


The Journal

by EllianaDunla



Series: The Written Word [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Eventually VERY eventually Thorin/OC, F/M, Mary-Sue free zone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 96
Words: 732,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllianaDunla/pseuds/EllianaDunla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his parents' funeral Thoren, son of Thorin, comes across a leather-bound journal in their old rooms. As he opens it he finds himself facing their story: There and Never Back Again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am busy posting my stories from ff.net on here as well, the first fourteen chapters will all be posted in one go. For the rest I am keeping up the update scheme I have already, every Sunday a chapter.

**The Journal**

 

_“She told him she’d rather fix her makeup_

_Than try to fix what’s going on_

_But the problem keeps on calling_

_Even with the cell phone gone_

_She told him that she believes in living_

_Bigger than she’s living now_

_But her world keeps spinning backwards_

_And upside-down”_

**Gone, Switchfoot**

 

**Chapter 1**

**Funeral**

 

The closing of Thorin’s tomb sounded rather too loud to Thoren’s ears. To him it made his father’s passing all that more final and he had to swallow, hard, to get a grip on himself. He could not let his tears escape, not now. He was the new King under the Mountain; people expected him to be strong. And the same was more or less true for his younger siblings. Royalty did not cry, not in public at least.

But they didn’t have an easy time either, he could tell. Thráin was staring right ahead, looking at a point in front of him without actually seeing it. Duria’s face seemed to have turned to stone, as had Jack’s. Cathy was the only one who didn’t have enough control over herself not to shed tears. She was sobbing silently, trying her hardest not to give in to her grief, but failing spectacularly.

The guests were turning to leave, leaving the family to have a few final moments before they too would need to return to the Mountain. The setting sun was shining on the mountainside, where the tomb was situated. Some had deemed it a strange place for the King under the Mountain and his wife to be buried, but Thoren knew that this place had held some kind of meaning to his parents, although he had never been able to find out what that meaning was.

‘It’s not fair.’ Cathy’s voice was feeble, sounding like that of a young girl and not the grown woman that she was. ‘He could have lived for decades still.’

He could have. Thorin wasn’t that old, not for a dwarf anyway. But Thoren also knew that his father had not been happy for the last few months, not since the queen had died.

The new king still felt a stab of pain thinking about his mother. It had not been four months ago since they had been in this exact spot, making a campfire and spending the night singing and making fun. There had been stories and music, nothing to suggest that it would take less than a day to turn their joy to mourning.

So yes, of course they knew the queen was old. She belonged to the race of Men and everyone knew their lifespans were very short in comparison with the other races of Middle Earth. From time to time Thoren had seen his father look at his wife, worrying about how long they would still have together and, as their children, Thoren and his siblings had shared that concern.

But that night on the mountain there had only been joy and laughter. His mother had made it all too easy for them to overlook her high age. She was as lively and sharp as she had ever been and in truth, nobody had wanted to pay attention to what was right in front of them. And the queen did still attend the councils and did all her normal duties. So yes, she tired more easily than before and her eyesight wasn’t what it once had been either, but everyone had conveniently ignored that.

There was no ignoring it the next morning, when they found the queen lying still in her bed. She looked like she could have been sleeping, but the lack of heartbeat and breath told them all something they neither wanted to know nor accept. Thoren hadn’t seen his father smile since that day and maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise that he had followed his wife so soon after.

‘He didn’t want to live without her,’ Thoren heard himself say, knowing it to be true.

Duria nodded. ‘I know.’ She put a comforting arm around her younger sister. ‘At least they are together now, even if we have to learn to cope without them.’

Thoren agreed, as much as he hated the thought. The entire weight of the kingdom now rested on his shoulders and with something dark stirring in Mordor again, the burdens of responsibility would now be even heavier than they would have been otherwise. And he was still young for a dwarf, hardly considered an adult. How he wished his parents would still be here to guide him through this time.

But they weren’t and it wouldn’t do him any good to pretend otherwise. This was the situation and that was what they needed to deal with, but that didn’t make the thought any easier to bear. And he was the son of Thorin Oakenshield. He could do this. So he forced himself to put on a brave face and face the few guests that had come for his father’s funeral. He was glad that their number was so small. The danger on the roads had made sure not many foreign officials had risked the journey to Erebor to pay their last respects. Maybe he should have been mad about it, but as it was, he was only relieved.

He excused himself from the company fairly early in the evening, knowing his absence would hardly be noticed. Most dwarves had entered a drinking game in his father’s memory and while Thoren used to think of this behaviour as amusing, now it only struck him as too enthusiastic, too loud and even inappropriate. He could all too easily recall his father’s amused expression as he watched his subjects drink and his mother’s mild disapproval at such abuse of alcoholic drinks.

That spoiled it all for him. He whispered his excuses to the people closest to him and slipped out of the hall. He could see Jack amongst the drinkers. His youngest brother was trying to drown his grief, and tomorrow he would discover that it wouldn’t be that easy. Thoren had tried that remedy himself and found it to be failing. His other siblings were politely conversing with the guests, although Cathy had left early as well. No surprise there either. Jack’s twin sister seemed to have more trouble controlling her grief than the others.

‘Where are you going?’

Thoren was almost jumping, because he hadn’t heard the other coming. ‘Thráin,’ he acknowledged his younger brother.

‘Where are you going?’ Thráin repeated. Only two years separated the two in age and they had always been close, sharing laughter as well as tears.

‘Out of here,’ Thoren replied in a hushed voice. ‘I just can’t face this, Thráin, not yet. I can see their faces everywhere I look.’

The younger dwarf’s sad smile indicated that he wasn’t alone in that. ‘Then go,’ he urged the new king. ‘I’ll cover for you.’

‘I owe you,’ Thoren vowed.

He left the hall, unnoticed by anyone else. Behind him the noise slowly faded away until he couldn’t make out what caused it anymore. And for once, he couldn’t care. He had slipped into a mood where he could care about very little anymore, too numb to even care about the cares of the kingdom and the evil that was now lurking in Mordor. It could all wait until tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Even that didn’t really matter anymore.

His feet guided him to his parents’ bedchamber. Soon it would be cleaned and cleared so that Thoren could take up residence there. It was the king’s chamber, yet in Thoren’s mind it would always belong to them, and never to him. It didn’t help that their scents still hung in the air and that their things were still scattered all over the place. His father’s favourite cloak was draped over the arm rest of the chair, his mother’s books were still dotting every surface. Thorin must have left them, not wanting to remove all traces of her.

 _I shouldn’t be here_. This room still felt too intensely personal for anyone else except the owners to enter. Standing here, he felt like they could just walk in any moment, picking up a book from the table, or grabbing the cloak off the chair, after which life would continue as normal.

 _But things are never going to go back to how they were and you had better get used to it, lad._ He half turned around, ready to leave, but the sight of a great leather-bound book on the very centre of the desk made him change his mind. He could have sworn he had never seen that before in his life and by now he was pretty familiar with all his mother’s books.

He had been curious as a little boy and growing up hadn’t changed that one bit. If anything, he was a bit more careful than he had been back them. But he was the king now and no one would reproach him for going through his parents’ belongings anymore.

He moved a bit closer, now noticing other objects on the table as well. He recognised the strange looking book called _Chronicles of Narnia_ , the book with fairy tales his mother had read to Thoren and his siblings when they were still small. The memory caused a faint smile to grace his features. The book was now old and worn. Next to it lay a small device that Thoren had seen with his mother often. She claimed there was music on it. Thoren of course had wanted to hear it all for himself and had been surprised to find she had told the truth. The small object had been an item of wonder ever since. Close to it lay his father’s small dagger. He had once told he had carried it with him on the quest that had led to the reclaiming of Erebor and that very fact had made it a relic of ancient and heroic times to the younger Thoren’s eyes.

Each object on the desk had obviously been carefully placed there. Thoren couldn’t escape the notion that they told a story of their own for those who knew how to read it. He knew most things here. They all had belonged to either of his parents. There were some books, a small knife, a strange looking water bottle, a strip of leather, a dried flower, some maps, a precious stone on a necklace and a piece of parchment with a written note on it.

That last one caught his attention. The parchment was old and soft. It looked like it had been folded and unfolded more than once, but the letters on it were still perfectly readable, even if they had faded a little over time. The question of why his parents would keep such a small note for so long made him look closer at it.

 

_Dear Miss Andrews,_

_The company_ Magical Trips _offers its sincerest apologies for the lack of your means of transport. We hope your inconvenience wasn’t too great. We hope to see you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Mr G. Grey_

 

The note provided him with more questions than answers. He had no idea who Miss Andrews was. He couldn’t recall ever meeting someone with that name. The only thing that could link this note to them was the mention of G. Grey, who Thoren expected to be Gandalf. He knew the old wizard sometimes chose to go by Mr Grey whenever he didn’t want to be recognised.

Somehow he felt all these things linked to the green leather-bound book that was still lying on the table, almost begging him to pick it up and read its contents. And Thoren was by now so curious he couldn’t resist. He left the note and turned his attention to the book. The cover revealed nothing, so he opened it.

He found his mother’s handwriting staring back at him. She had scribbled something in the far left corner: _Property of Catherine Sarah Andrews_. Catherine was his mother’s name, Thoren knew that, although she preferred to go by Kate in daily life. Her name was unique in all of Middle Earth as far as he knew. But it was the surname that really struck him. Andrews, that was the same name that had been on the note. For reasons yet unknown to him, Gandalf had once sent her that note. He was trying to decide if this cleared things up or just made them even more complicated than they already were.

There seemed to be so many things about his mother that he couldn’t even start to guess. Her life before the quest had always remained a mystery to him, he realised. In all his curiosity he had never even thought to ask her about that. He had always assumed his mother just originated from one of the villages of Men, leading a life that was both dull and uneventful. It was only now that he slowly started to understand that there had to be a whole lot more to her story.

His eyes drifted to the right page. The title was situated in the very middle of the page, written in his mother’s neat handwriting, the writing she only used on official and documents: _There and Never Back Again_. It was like the title of an adventure story, the kind he had so enjoyed when he was small, and secretly still liked.

He hesitated only a moment before turning the page, overcome by curiosity and a desperate need to lose himself in something, _anything_ that could take the edge of the pain. The following pages were all filled with a mix of his mother’s “official” script and his father’s slightly larger writing:

_My dearest children…_


	2. Uprooted

**Chapter 2**

**Uprooted**

 

_My dearest children,_

_I don’t even need to ask you if you know about my adventures when I was younger. I know you do. You can probably recall the facts as well as I do, because you grew up with the stories of the quest, the retaking of Erebor and the legendary Battle of the Five Armies. You played it out when you were young and learned about it in your history lessons._

_There is, however, always more to a story than just the facts and those details are not as well-known as some of you might think. And as the time passes, I keep wondering more and more if it is right that they should be forgotten, when they were so important to the story as a whole. So, right now I do have some time to myself and I finally decided to pick up a quill and tell the entire story to you, for you to read and determine what to do with it._

_My part in this particular adventure did not, as you have always been told, start with a coincidental meeting at a certain hobbit’s house. In fact, it began quite unexpectedly a few hours earlier, in another world, when a woman in her early twenties was making a run to a rendezvous point…_

 

The afternoon was bright, not a cloud to be seen, when Kate Andrews sprinted down to the bus stop. She glanced at her watch, knowing it would still tell her she was running late, yet still hoping it would tell her something else.

But it was entirely her own fault. She should have known not to stay on the phone with her mother that long when there was still half a bag to be filled, a cat to be fed and plants to be watered before she needed to head out. But she had and now she was paying the price. Her legs were cramping and her lungs were burning, but Kate had no intention of slowing down. She would make it there in time, no matter what.

The bus stop came into sight and she exhaled in relief when she noted it was still blessedly abandoned. She wasn’t so late that the bus would have left her behind, so she slowed down, allowing herself to catch her breath and change the green holdall she was carrying to her other hand.

The reason for this hurry was that she was finally, after months of planning, going on a hiking trip with a bunch of other people around her age, or so the brochure had claimed. It all had looked very promising and she definitely needed a holiday after all the chaos at work and so she had signed up without a second thought. Things became even better when she learned that the bus taking them to the starting point of the trip would pick her up five minutes away from her own home.

So, that was where she was headed now. Her watch still told her she was late, but apparently, so was the bus. Well, no surprise there really. The first bus to arrive on time she had yet to see.

Kate sat down on the small bench, glancing around her. This place was practically abandoned. It usually was. It was the kind of place you wouldn’t want to come after dark, but, fortunately, it wasn’t dark now. The sun was shining and, although a bit chilly, it was actually quite a nice day for early spring.

 _You made it, girl_ , she congratulated herself as she took a sip from her water bottle. Now all she needed was that stupid bus.

But it didn’t come. The normal busses came and went, but not the one that she was waiting for and Kate started to feel a bit uneasy as more time passed and she still sat there, now practically frozen and growing angrier with every second. _If this was some kind of joke, then so help me God!_ she silently fumed. You heard it all the time on the news; unsuspecting people being deceived by clever “businessmen” who robbed said people of their money and then delivered nothing in return. It would seem that she had just fallen victim to them.

‘Shit!’ she cursed and not quite under her breath. But it didn’t make any sense, not at all. She hadn’t even paid yet. What was the point in this now? The logical answer would be that there was no point in this at all.

She was about to go back to her house, grab a cup of tea and think it all over. It had been almost two hours and her bus hadn’t shown. She had swung her backpack over her shoulders again and taken up the holdall when she caught sight of some kind of letter in an envelope that she knew quite certain hadn’t been there two minutes ago.

She blinked. No, she must have been mistaken. No one had been here in at least twenty minutes and letters didn’t appear out of themselves. That was something reserved for the realm of fiction. Things like that didn’t happen in the real world.

She shook her head and had half convinced herself that this was all some serious short-sightedness on her part, when she read the name on the envelope: Miss Kate Andrews.

There was probably no one on earth who could have ignored seeing their name on an envelope and Kate was no different than any other. ‘What on earth…?’ she muttered, swinging the holdall over her free shoulder and grabbing the letter with her now free hand. If that thing had been there all this time, she might just bang her head against the nearest wall with her own stupidity.

She slid the envelope open with her finger and pulled out the letter.

 

_Dear Miss Andrews,_

_The company_ Magical Trips _offers its sincerest apologies for the lack of your means of transport. We hope your inconvenience wasn’t too great. We hope to see you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Mr G. Grey_

 

 _What a load of bullshit_. They just didn’t show, for reasons beyond Kate’s comprehension, but when it came down to it, it was as simple as that. And now it became painfully clear that she had actually no way of contacting _Magical Trips_ to find out what was going on here. She only had a post address which by now she was quite certain wouldn’t exist when she would look it up.

‘Shit!’ she repeated, louder this time. She tried to bite back her disappointment, but found herself failing. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t been looking forward to this. To realise now that it had all been another empty promise made her want to kick something or, better still, someone very hard, preferably somewhere where it hurt a lot. ‘Sit, shit, _shit_!’

Well, there was nothing keeping her here now, she supposed, so she pulled herself together and turned to leave. But she was stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the letter, which she had thrown to the ground in anger, circling round in the wind.

But there wasn’t any wind here, not as much as a breeze. There hadn’t been all day and she didn’t feel it now either. So what was making that piece of paper move?

She kind of wished later that she hadn’t asked that question. If she had just walked away as she had planned, then nothing would have happened. That was what she told herself anyway. In hindsight, however, she wasn’t sure it would have worked. In fact, after she had learned who the person responsible was, she was quite certain nothing could have stopped the following events from happening.

More and more objects started moving in the wind she could not feel and Kate found herself unable to move, just staring. Something about this gave her the feeling that this place was being haunted, if she had actually believed in those things.

 _Okay, girl, time to get out of here. This is getting downright creepy_. That would be her common sense, but Kate often made a point of not listening to it.

But maybe she should have this time. Because now she started to feel the wind, becoming stronger by the second, up to a point it might be labelled a hurricane. By the time she had come to the conclusion that she really had to go now, she found she couldn’t move.

_Bad idea, girl. Bad idea._

The next moment the bus stop had vanished, as had the wind. Kate was about to exhale in relief when she realised that she was nowhere near home or that blasted bus stop now. In fact, she had no idea where she was. It was dark here, definitely night. A nearby house had a small lantern hanging outside, illuminating a bit of the otherwise dark street.

She blinked. That was not a house. Had she not known better, she would have thought it to be a hobbit-hole, taken straight out of the Lord of the Rings movies, placed here, wherever that was supposed to be.

 _Okay, that’s it_ , she told herself with more bravado than she actually felt. _No more reading before bed. And you should probably_ _stop reading fanfiction as well._

But that wasn’t the problem. This was real. And she had still not a clue as to what was happening here or how she had ended up in this place for that matter. It scared her that she didn’t know a single thing anymore. The safest thing to say would be that she had fallen asleep on that bench and that she could wake up any moment now. That would be a reassuring thought, had she not been so sure that she had not been sleeping at all. And if she still had any doubts, her pinching her arm made it painfully clear that this was neither a dream nor a hallucination.

 _What’s happening?_ The panic was rising up, fighting to take over and if she would let it, it would reduce her to a snivelling wreck, incapable of doing anything that might just get her home again.

That thought was just enough for now to force it back and think about what she could do. Here she was in a what looked like a little village, with most of her luggage, including sandwiches, water and a sleeping bag. She had hardly any money on her at all and a quick glance at her mobile phone learned her that she didn’t have a signal.

 _Okay, what would my mother do?_ she asked herself. As it turned out, that was most often the way to deal with this kind of thing, because Kate’s mum was probably the most sensible woman she had ever encountered. The only stupid thing she was ever known to do was marrying John Andrews. But that was the only blot on her copybook.

 _She would knock on that door and ask where she was_. That would be common sense again.

That was actually the last thing she ever wanted to do. Knocking on the door of a hobbit-hole to ask for… what exactly? Directions? To where, the nearest inn?

 _Well, it isn’t like you have a lot of options_ , common sense put in. Kate started to wish it would just shut up. Why would it be so bloody sensible all the time, especially when she wanted to do nothing more than throw a tantrum worthy of a three year old? _I just want to go home!_

The heroines in the fanfictions she secretly liked to read sometimes did always feel a little lost at first, but in the end they were always sort of happy to be in the supposedly fantasy world. _Screw fanfiction_ , Kate thought angrily. _I bet the authors have never been here, otherwise they’d have their heroines fly off the handle as well._

The dilemma, however, remained. She was out on the street in God knows where with only a sleeping bag and an extra blanket to keep her warm. And she seriously doubted that would be enough. It felt like it was still winter here and she had no ambition whatsoever to freeze to death. _Knocking on the door doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?_

And screw common sense as well. The annoying thing about it was that she didn’t have much choice in the matter. Unless she wanted to remain here for the rest of the night, which she didn’t, she could better get moving.

 _There you go, girl_. She picked up the holdall and swung the backpack over her shoulder, forcing herself to walk over to the hole and give a few hard knocks on the green front door. She could hear a lot of noise coming from inside, like there was some kind of party going on. For a moment that made her doubt if anyone had even heard her, but then she could hear the door being unlocked. Thank goodness for that.

The door opened to reveal a small man with overly large feet. ‘Good evening,’ he said in a voice that suggested he wished her anything but a good evening. His face seemed familiar somehow.

‘Good evening,’ she replied, _knowing_ for a fact that it was anything but that. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid I lost my way. I was wondering if you could give me directions to the nearest inn?’

The hobbit, which she knew this was, seemed confused for a moment, but then his grumpy expression made way for one of compassion. ‘Oh, do come in,’ he invited her. ‘The inn is quite a distance from here. You look frozen, miss. I am sure I can spare you a bit of food and a place by the fire.’

‘If you’re sure?’ Because of his earlier obvious dislike it came out as a question.

‘Yes, yes,’ he said, sounding a bit impatient now. ‘Come in, miss…?’

‘Andrews,’ she replied, stepping over the threshold into the comfortably warm house. Or hole. Whatever. ‘Kate Andrews. Thank you so much for inviting me, Mr…?’

‘Baggins,’ the hobbit introduced himself, closing the door behind him. ‘Bilbo Baggins, at your service.’

 _Uh oh. Not happening. This is_ not _happening_. She had only been a good sixty years off the mark. This wasn’t the Lord of the Rings she ended up in, it was The Hobbit. It was a good explanation for why her host looked so familiar. It was however not so good for convincing herself that she was just dreaming.

 _But this just can’t be happening. No way_. Maybe she shouldn’t write off the whole dream theory just yet. But then, she had not been sleeping. She had been wide awake when she was spirited away to this place, wide awake and practically boiling over with frustration and disappointment. _Bloody bus, bloody books and bloody_ Magical Trips.

That stopped her almost dead in her tracks. Magical Trips, the note being signed by a certain Mr G. Grey? She now wanted to bang her head against the wall for not having connected the dots earlier, even though it still made no sense whatsoever. Why would anyone want her here? She knew _she_ didn’t want her here anyway.

‘Pleasure to meet you,’ Kate forced herself to say as she followed the storybook character through the hallway to the source of the noise. Because this wasn’t a pleasure at all, more like a disaster.

They came into the kitchen, that was so full Kate had to supress the urge to make a run for a room with more breathing space. The place was not just crowded, it was cramped. The dwarves she all more or less recognised from the movies were sitting around the table, feasting, drinking, talking and laughing.

‘Eh, look at that lass!’ one of the dwarves yelled as he spotted her. ‘Who are you then?’

‘My name is Kate Andrews,’ she introduced herself again. ‘Pleasure to meet you all,’ she added a second too late. All she wanted was to bolt for the door and get the hell out of here. She had never wanted to come here in the first place.

‘Ah, Miss Andrews,’ a man in the corner said. She hadn’t spotted him before because he sat more or less in the shadows, but she knew who he was. How could she not? And, if she was right, he was also the one that brought her here. Gandalf the Grey. ‘I’m so glad to see you could make it.’

Kate wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this wasn’t it. Her jaw dropped.

 

* * *

 

Notes as found in a notebook belonging to one Catherine Sarah Andrews: _Stranded in Middle Earth of all places! Great, just great… Insert sarcasm here._


	3. First Impressions

**Chapter 3**

**First Impressions**

 

 _I can almost hear your laughter as you read this. You know me all very well, so it is needless to say that there have not been many occasions when I have been struck speechless. But let me assure you, I was then. I was absolutely stunned by surprise and a lot of anger as I watched that annoying wizard more or less tell me that he had been expecting me all along. The worst thing was that none of the dwarves seemed terribly surprised either, making me suspect that there was quite a lot more to this than just me dreaming or me accidentally being chosen to spend some time in my favourite fictive world. ‘_ What _?!’ I snarled…_

 

‘ _What_?!’ Anyone who knew Kate knew that it was best to start searching for cover as soon as she started to speak in that particular tone. But these people didn’t know her at all and none of them started to run for the hills.

‘You know what you’re here for, right?’ one of them asked. Kate supposed he was Kíli, if the movie description got anything right. He answered his own question when she didn’t. ‘You’re the omniscient one.’

That was just too much. ‘I _beg_ your pardon?’

That at least made him a little less enthusiastic, if only a little. ‘You are, aren’t you?’

Kate’s intuition sparked, her head swivelling in Gandalf’s direction who made a point of being very interested in his food all of a sudden, which was confirmation in and out of itself. He was behind this somehow. Apart from the fact that no one else in the present company could have pulled off such an act of magical transportation, he was looking all too guilty, just by looking so bloody innocent.

‘Can _someone_ tell me what the hell this is all about?’ she exploded.

‘Yes, that would be nice,’ she could hear Bilbo mutter. Of course, he too was still in that awful state of not knowing what was happening to him, poor guy.

Gandalf pretended to be too preoccupied by his plate to hear her, so it was again Kíli that answered the question. ‘Gandalf didn’t tell you what you’re here for?’

Controlling her temper had never been her strong point and she had been extremely tried today. Kíli had just asked one particular stupid question and that just pushed her over the edge. ‘Very well spotted, Einstein,’ she snapped at him, feeling slightly pleased that he had obviously no clue as to who Einstein was. ‘Let me tell you what I _do_ know, though. Here I was, signing up for a two week hiking trip, waiting for the bus to pick me up. Guess what, the bus never showed. There was however this weird bloody letter that transported me to this place. And now I am being told… _what_ exactly?’

‘Looks like someone has just been set up,’ the other young dwarf muttered. Kate supposed he was Fíli and he sounded a bit too amused for all of this.

‘Look, I don’t know why you’re calling me the omniscient one, because I’m not,’ she started. How true that was. If anything, she had no idea what was happening to her anymore. ‘I don’t know why I am even here, but I sure as hell do not want to be here. All I want is to get home, to get on with my life while you lot do whatever it is that you came here to do.’ She knew her voice had been rising with every word she spoke, but she couldn’t care less at the moment. Because this was just beyond ridiculous. This was crazy, the stuff of fiction, and very bad fiction most of the time at that. How on earth (or was she supposed to say Middle Earth now?) had this happened to her?

‘Just take a seat, lass,’ the one she guessed was Balin offered. He was the first that didn’t seem to think that this was all a very amusing joke. The elderly dwarf looked at her with something that might very well be called compassion. ‘And drink something. You look like you have seen a ghost.’

His kindness made Kate smile hesitantly. ‘No, just a bunch of storybook characters,’ she muttered.

Now that peeked some interest. ‘We’re storybook characters?’ Kíli yelled from the other side of the kitchen.

She immediately wished she had just kept her mouth shut. But there was no denying it now anymore. ‘Yes. Where I come from at least.’

She might have been expecting insults, or shocked silence or anything at all, just not Kíli and Fíli’s enthusiastic cheering. ‘So you _are_ the omniscient one?’

A few dots connected in Kate’s head. That was what this was all about? What was Gandalf playing at? Was he bringing her here so that she could do… what? To use her knowledge so that she could guide this company? But that was just insane! ‘You… _what_?’ She tried her hardest not to think about the fact that she had a copy of the actual novel stuffed somewhere in her backpack. But Gandalf couldn’t have known that she would take the book with her, could he? It had been a last moment decision. She had only grabbed it off the coffee table mere seconds before leaving the house.

‘You know the future,’ he clarified.

‘No, I don’t,’ she objected. Good grief, wasn’t this all messed up? Why couldn’t she just be home? Why of all people should she be here? ‘Look, and I’m not even convinced yet that this isn’t some crazy dream and I’m really hoping I’ll wake up any moment now, because I don’t want to be here and I certainly do not want to be an omniscient one. Gandalf, you’re a wizard. Can’t you just send me back and be done with it?’

Gandalf was still busy examining the contents of his plate. ‘Oh, no,’ he replied. ‘Such a spell requires a lot of preparation and power. I couldn’t possibly manage it for the next year, dear girl.’

Kate wasn’t the only one who didn’t buy a single word of that speech. ‘You’re making that up, aren’t you?’ one of the dwarves, whose name she could not possibly recall, demanded.

‘Well, we did expect someone…’ Yet another dwarf gave her a once over.

‘Stronger?’ his neighbour suggested.

‘Taller?’ a next one offered.

‘Older?’ Kíli put in.

‘Wiser?’ the fattest one, Bombur, suggested.

Her anger flared to life again. ‘You’re one to talk!’ she shot back.

For some reason the dwarves seemed to take this not as an insult, but as the joke of the century. They all started laughing and somewhere in the middle of all their laughter it ended up in a food fight. Kate was torn between wanting to shout at them and laugh at the sheer stupidity of it all and in the end settled for just sitting there and just letting it wash all over her, too beaten down at the moment to do anything else. Some irrational part of her brain was hoping that if she just sat down and waited somehow it would all be all right. A smaller, yet wiser part of her brain, named common sense, told her it wouldn’t be that easy. _Shut up_ , she thought at it. Perhaps it was right, but she didn’t feel like she could deal with that just now.

Some dwarves had actually started a kind of knife-fight with Bilbo’s mother’s knives and the hobbit looked close to breaking point. There was another one who was less than pleased with the way things were going at the moment. Poor fellow had no idea what Gandalf had gotten him into.

‘Could you not do that?’ he cried out. ‘You’ll blunt them!’ Bilbo had a point, really. The dwarves were behaving like a bunch of naughty school boys, and extremely loud ones at that. All that noise, combined with everything that had already happened to her was causing a massive headache slowly building up behind her eyes, slowly spreading through her head. And it didn’t really help that all those noisy dwarves suddenly burst out into song, making even more noise than they already did.

Balin was the only one not joining in the general madness, just sitting down and smoking his pipe as he ducked out of the way of flying dishes every now and then. He was singularly unimpressed, as if he had witnessed this more than once. Come to think of it, he might have.

‘Just let them, lass,’ he told Kate. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

Something about this particular dwarf made it almost impossible to get cross with him. ‘But that’s the point. I don’t want to get used to this. I just want to be home.’ _And I seriously need some painkillers for that headache_. ‘I never wanted to come here in the first place. I mean, I always liked the stories, but in a book! I don’t want to be dropped in the very bloody middle of it!’

It was only at the end of that speech that she realised that it had become awfully quiet in the tiny hobbit kitchen. Everyone was staring at her, making her wish the ground would just open and swallow her up.

‘Excuse me, miss, but why is the story bloody?’ a timid voice, belonging to Ori suddenly asked.

 _Anyone else having this urge to bang their head against the wall?_ Fortunately a few firm knocks on Bilbo’s front door saved her from voicing that unkind thought. Instead a silence settled over the group and Kate had a fairly good idea why that was.

And indeed. ‘He’s here,’ Gandalf announced.

 

***

 

Thorin was cursing Gandalf again, not quite under his breath, as he once again realised that he had no idea where he actually was. He supposed the Shire was a beautiful place to be, but the hobbits did have villages that made it all too easy for a stranger to get lose his way. To tell the truth, he was completely lost and was seriously considering turning back to the inn he had seen fifteen minutes ago and wait for morning to come before he would attempt to find the house with Gandalf’s mark on the door again. This was just ridiculous.

He was about to act on his wish to turn back when he heard a lot of noise coming from a hole just further down the road. There was laughing and shouting and then there was melody, or something that was probably meant to pass as melody.

The corners of his mouth curled up in mild amusement. _Definitely my men_. Hobbits weren’t that loud. Now that he did have some directions, his destination was easy to find. It even turned out that he had unknowingly passed the hole several times already and had somehow completely missed out on the mark that glowed a soft blue on the front door.

He snorted and walked up to the front door, giving a few knocks on it. The noise on the inside died down instantly. Well, at least that meant that his arrival had not gone unnoticed.

The silence was followed by the sound of several people marching over towards the door and then the tall form of the wizard materialised as the front door opened.

‘Gandalf,’ he acknowledged, stepping in over the threshold. ‘I thought you said this place would be easy to find.’ Apparently they had different ideas about the definition of the word easy. ‘I lost my way. Twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for the mark on the door.’ _And the noise the company managed to produce_ , he added dryly to himself, unclasping his cloak.

‘Mark?’ an unfamiliar voice demanded. ‘What mark? There is no mark on that door! It was painted a week ago!’ The hobbit who the hole belonged to marched into Thorin’s line of sight, trying to spot said mark, but Gandalf wisely shut the door and leaned against it to prevent the small man from opening it and taking a look nonetheless.

Thorin measured him up, but failed to see what Gandalf had been so enthusiastic about. There was nothing about Mr Bilbo Baggins that indicated that he could fight, survive in the wild or be in any single way useful on this quest. A quick questioning confirmed those suspicions. The supposed burglar looked more like a grocer than a burglar and he stated as much. But at least Mr Baggins didn’t back down. Neither did he seem to be afraid of Thorin at all. Well, he supposed that was something.

 _What in Durin’s name is Gandalf playing at?_ he wondered as he prepared to made to follow his companions to the hobbit’s kitchen to discuss business. He also asked himself where the promised fifteenth member of the company was. The wizard had promised him a burglar and a so-called “omniscient one” whatever it was that he meant by that. When Thorin had asked about it the grey wizard had simply told him it was a “necessary asset to the quest” and he would see to it that this person “would find the way to Mr Baggins’s house in time for the meeting”.

‘And where would be your omniscient one?’ he inquired. ‘You promised me another member for the company.’

‘I’m afraid he was intending me to fill that position.’

Thorin swivelled around, coming face to face with a young woman leaning against the wall in the hall. For a moment he almost mistook her for another hobbit, because of the wild curly hair that seemed to be a particular hobbit trait. A second look learned him that she was of the race of Men, even though she was small for a human. She was a bit taller than most of the dwarves present, but still definitely human. She was too skinny to pass for a dwarf woman, and far less hairy.

‘A woman?’ It was impossible to hide his surprise and near despair at the wizard’s newest plan. It made him wonder why he had involved Gandalf in this in the first place.

She grimaced. ‘Don’t worry,’ she snorted. ‘I’m not exactly doing a happy dance around the room myself either.’ This declaration was followed by a glare sent in Gandalf’s direction. ‘I’m Kate Andrews by the way.’

He didn’t bother to introduce himself. Gandalf had taken care of that part already and he had more important business to concern himself with, like finding out how this tiny thing would be fit to join his company. She was skinny enough to get blown away in the gentlest breeze, not a bit of muscle on her. Miss Andrews clearly wasn’t the fighting type, although Thorin had to admit she did have some spirit. It burned in her eyes clear as daylight.

‘Tell me, Miss Andrews, how much do you know about fighting?’ he asked of her.

Before that question she had given every impression of wanting to get out of here as fast as she possibly could, but something in his voice, or his question, made her look at him in anger and defiance. ‘I don’t suppose my magnificent right hook counts for anything in your royal opinion?’ She huffed. ‘But I wasn’t brought here to fight now, was I? Your great wizard friend wants me to give you advice on what to do and don’t on this quest, doesn’t he? Fighting skills were obviously not that high on his bloody list, but I do know how to fend for myself in the wilderness, if that counts for something.’

It didn’t take long for Thorin to find out that this girl, correction _woman_ , had a serious temper and no love whatsoever of the grey wizard. Taken into account that the hobbit had apparently been coerced into this, it should not have been a surprise that the fifteenth member had also fallen victim to Gandalf’s scheming, and was less than happy about it.

‘I’m not taking a woman with me,’ he told both Gandalf and Kate.

‘Great,’ she said. ‘I second that. And now that we’ve established that I am not going anywhere with the present company, can you please send me back home?’ The words came out with conviction and a lot of irritation, but there was a begging tone underneath the bravado. He could not escape the notice that this woman was even less willing to be on this quest than he was to have her.

‘Oh, I can’t,’ Gandalf protested, hiding behind the smoke from his pipe. ‘These things take time, lots of time. And I am sure Miss Andrews has a lot to add to this quest. Who knows, she might even surprise herself.’

‘Does anyone else in this room feel the urge to hit him?’ To Thorin’s surprise these words came out of Kate’s mouth. ‘Listen up, guys, I. Don’t. Want. To. Do. This. All I want is to go home. I’m not made for this world and you people aren’t exactly anxious to have me around either.’ She looked positively miserable. He had suffered from headaches often enough to know that she was having one. Her eyes were narrowed to prevent too much light from coming in, she looked slightly unbalanced and was paler than was healthy. He had no idea what Gandalf had done to her, but by the looks of it, it hadn’t been pleasant.

‘You must trust me on this,’ Gandalf insisted. ‘Your knowledge could come in quite handy.’

‘Then you should have gotten yourself a copy of that bloody book!’ Kate snapped. ‘You don’t need me to read it to you.’

‘Book? What book?’ The dwarf prince looked from one to the other.

Kate took it upon herself to answer. ‘The storybook from my world, describing your quest to reclaim Erebor from the dragon Smaug.’

She couldn’t have known this, not unless someone in this company had not been so discreet as he should have been. Knowing his nephews, it was all too easy to guess who would have been responsible for blurting out the goal of the quest.

‘No one told me,’ she announced as he looked over to the youngest dwarves. ‘Like I said, that’s the kind of thing that’s written inside that book.’

His interest was sparked now. Maybe she could be of use. ‘And what else does that book tell you?’

‘You’re in for a lot of trouble,’ Kate replied. ‘Goblins, Wargs, Trolls and even a massive battle.’ She started listing it all on her fingers. ‘If I recall right there were some problems with elves and giant spiders, before some of you die an unpleasant and untimely death on the battlefield.’

 _She’s making that up_. There couldn’t possibly that many dangers on the road ahead. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Am I now?’ She looked like she was on the verge of collapse. ‘You know what, I don’t even care. You don’t want to believe me? That’s fine with me. You deal with it all on your own, Mr High and Mighty.’ She stormed off, threw open the door and stalked outside. The door slammed shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notebook: _First impressions of Middle Earth: Gandalf is a scheming bastard, Thorin Oakenshield an arrogant royal prat, accompanied by a bunch of school boys. How on earth did I ever think this group could be heroic? And whoever described Thorin as dark and mysterious had clearly way too much to drink._


	4. Night-time Conversations

**Chapter 4**

**Night-time Conversations**

 

_Not what you expected, is it, my dears? I know there aren’t many tales of how I ended up with this company in the first place and I know there are even less people still alive today who remember I was not born and raised in Middle Earth. I’m not even sure that all my future companions were fully aware of that fact yet._

_Anyway, that was my first night in a world that I had considered to be only existing in books until then. I think it would be an understatement to say that I was feeling absolutely miserable as I curled up on Bilbo’s garden bench…_

 

The fresh air did a lot to help Kate clear her thoughts, enough to make her realise that storming out of the house might not have been the best thing to do. First there was the small problem with having nowhere to go. It had become increasingly clear that Gandalf was not in a hurry to send her back, not until she had done what he had brought her here to do. And she had no ambition to join a dangerous quest. So yes, she could survive in the wild. Her parents’ love of long hiking trips in the middle of nowhere had made sure of that. But she couldn’t handle a weapon to save her life and that would be a skill she needed to have on such a perilous journey.

But the question remained: where else could she go? She had hardly any money on her and she seriously doubted her world’s money would be worth anything around here. She was completely dependent on her host’s good graces and he would surely leave in the morning. _What a freaking mess_.

‘Are you all right, lass?’

She should probably not have been surprised that it was Balin who followed her out in the end. The kind elderly dwarf was something of a father figure, she supposed, or a gentle uncle, worrying about all the younger members of the company.

 _But I’m not a member, am I?_ ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. _I just want to be left alone_. ‘I just needed some breathing space.’ At least the fresh air seemed to be helping with the headache. Her brains didn’t feel like they were twisted in tight knots anymore at the very least. The pain had now faded into a dull throbbing in the back of her head, and she could more or less ignore it, even if she did feel incredibly tired.

Balin patted her shoulder and then placed himself next to her on the bench. No intention of leaving, that one. ‘You’ve been out for hours,’ he told her. ‘And you left your coat inside.’

He handed her said coat and she accepted it with a silent nod of thanks, wrapping it around herself. She had been too lost in thought to take much notice of it before, but it was still chilly here.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ the old warrior asked.

Kate just curled up further and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘No, I think I pretty much vented it all.’ _Right in Thorin’s arrogant face_. She shrugged. ‘It’s just pointless, me being here. I mean, I know I sound selfish, but I just want to be home.’

‘So do we,’ Balin pointed out.

‘But at least you can go home, can’t you?’ she shot back. ‘You have a choice whether to go back or not. I don’t have that anymore, thanks to that bloody wizard.’ There was a short silence for a moment. ‘I just don’t belong here, Balin. This entire world feels so alien to me. Even the very air feels strange.’ She had the strange sensation of being uprooted and planted into an environment where she couldn’t live anymore. There was no sense of belonging here. There was just the longing to be anywhere but here.

The dwarf patted her knee, the closest thing he could reach. ‘It won’t do you much good to sit here complaining about how unfair it all is, lass.’

‘No, I’ll save that rant for Gandalf,’ she muttered. How on earth had her life taken such a turn in such a short time? By now she had convinced herself that this was not a dream, that this was happening to her and that she had to deal with it. What a very reassuring thought.

‘Here, got you something.’ Balin handed her a piece of folded paper. ‘The contract,’ he explained when she shot it and him a confused look.

‘I see.’ And she did. ‘I take it there is something in this that deals with funeral arrangements, incineration and so forth?’ She let the contract fall on her lap. ‘Don’t you think this is a little presumptuous?’

‘Gandalf chose you to be the fifteenth member of the company.’ That sentence was spoken as if it was an explanation in and out of itself.

‘He may have chosen me, but I didn’t.’ Why did that dwarf have to make so much sense, when all she wanted to do was to just fade away into unconsciousness and hope that things would look better in the morning, a whole lot better.  ‘Balin, I am sorry, but I hardly think I’m made to run off on a quest to retake a mountain from a dragon. I can’t fight, not at all.’

Balin just smiled. ‘How about your magnificent right hook?’

‘Ever seen a right hook knock out an orc, or a dragon for that matter?’ When he remained silent, she answered her own question. ‘Thought not.’

‘Gandalf has his own reasons to do as he does, lassie. It will take time for us to learn to understand. In the meantime, you are here. Take a look at that contract.’

She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked. She had done too much fighting for one day and she didn’t think she could summon up the energy for yet another one. The light of the lantern provided just enough light for her to read by. The letters were slightly different here than she was used to, and so was the choice of words, but with some difficulty, it was readable. It contained much of what she already knew to be there.

‘You’ll be rich when you return home,’ Bali told her as he noticed she had come to the part on sharing the treasure.

Kate snorted. ‘Would that be _when_ or _if_?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘And what does it matter anyway? I don’t have a choice in this, do I? I don’t have any money, or at least not the kind I can pay with around here, I do not have anywhere to go. The only option I have is to go with you lot.’ And what an unwelcome conclusion that was. But it was also a realistic one. The best she could hope for now was to go with these dwarves and keep herself and therefore them out of trouble best she could. Maybe she could convince Gandalf to send her back sometime in the future, but she wouldn’t get her hopes up. If the real Gandalf was anything like the Gandalf she had come to know from the books and movies, he was not going to give up on his plans so easily. Old, troublesome, meddling wizard!

‘Aye, lass.’ Balin seemed wholly unimpressed. By the looks of things he had done business with the wizard before.

‘I can’t make promises, you know,’ Kate warned him. ‘It’s right, I do know the book.’ _Inside out_. ‘But that doesn’t mean I will be a good addition to your company.’

She dug up a pen from the pocket of her trousers and signed the contract. _Please, make that I am not going to regret doing this sometime in the future._ But she knew she was. Sooner rather than later something was going to happen that would make her curse the fact that she had ever considered signing this. But then, what alternative did she have? There were none.

‘Ah, but you’ll try, won’t you?’

She watched as the dwarf stood up and made his way back to the hole. ‘Yes, I will,’ she whispered at his retreating back.

 

***

 

Thorin had told himself not to get his hopes up and he had been right to do so. He had no idea what had possessed Gandalf when he had selected Bilbo Baggins as a burglar, but he strongly suspected common sense had very little to do with it. The hobbit had fainted at hearing when he learned what was expected of him and Gandalf’s talking to him didn’t seem to have changed his mind. By then, Thorin wasn’t even sure he wanted the hobbit in the company anyway. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever encountered a person that was as ill-equipped to wander the wilderness as Mr Baggins. They would need to find themselves another burglar on the way, he supposed.

The same was true for the young human woman Gandalf had enlisted to guide them. The wizard had, reluctantly, admitted that Kate Andrews didn’t even originate from this world. He had brought her to Middle Earth by means of magic. That would account for the panic that he had seen in her eyes.

What had Gandalf been thinking? The question repeated itself like a mantra in his head. True, Miss Andrews looked like someone who could look after her own, but she was no fighter. She had admitted it herself. And she clearly didn’t want to be here.

 _And she’s a liar_. She had to be. Thorin knew the road ahead would be dangerous, but as dangerous as she had made it out to be, no, he didn’t buy that. She had even mentioned trolls, while those didn’t come anywhere near the route they would be taking.

The house was slowly getting quiet. Several dwarves had gone to sleep already and Mr Baggins hadn’t been seen for at least an hour. Balin had gone outside to talk to Miss Andrews, but Thorin didn’t think it would have much effect. The quest seemed doomed to fail before it had even properly started.

But he wasn’t going to give up, not now. Before Gandalf had given him the key, maybe he could have, even though he seriously doubted that, but now there was no way back for him anymore. He meant what he had said to Balin only an hour ago: there was no choice, not for him.

The peace in the house was shattered when Kíli and Fíli’s voices started shouting. They were on the other end of the hole, so he couldn’t make out their words exactly, but judging by the sounds he could hear, someone had dropped something and now his nephews were blaming each other playfully, but mostly too loud.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Even as he asked, he could see the answer. The backpack belonging to Miss Andrews had toppled over, its contents sent flying all over the room.

‘Wow, look at this now!’ Kíli exclaimed. The young dwarf had picked up something small. ‘A book?’

Thorin held out his hand. ‘Give it to me. And put Miss Andrews’s belongings back in her bag.’

Why in Durin’s name would anyone in their senses bring such a heavy and unnecessary thing as a book on a quest, or even a hiking trip, as she had been thinking? Was she out of her mind?

The ranting would have continued had he not caught sight of the title: _The Hobbit_. He blinked. Kate had made mention of the fact that there was a story about what they were about to do, she had however failed to mention that she actually had the book with her.

Part of him didn’t want to know what was in this book, but another, definitely bigger part couldn’t resist. He opened the book on the first chapter. _In a hole under the ground there lived a hobbit._ The letters were different than he was used to and something about the choice of words seemed off as well. But it was readable. His eyes flew over the lines, taking in what was written. Most of the first chapter seemed to fit in with what had happened here this evening, some of it didn’t. But there was enough that was accurate to turn Thorin’s stomach to ice.

 _What kind of devilry is this? How come people in another world know about the quest even before it has happened?_ With growing dread he turned the pages, reading a few lines here and there, not enough to establish if it was true or even probable, but enough to know that Kate at least had not been lying about the fact that there was a book that made mentions of the events she had been listing.

But if this dreaded book was right about this evening, partly at least, what else could it be right about? Miss Andrews had named many things, including a prediction that some of them would die in battle. _Leave the book_ , a voice inside his head urged. _It will only make you doubt your quest._ But he could not leave it, not when this might be the key to their success.

The next moment he wished he had listened to it. _They buried Thorin_ … The sentence went on, but the words blurred before Thorin’s eyes. _They buried Thorin_ … Those three words fought their way into his head and took up residence there. _They buried Thorin_ …

‘Uncle, are you all right?’ Kíli was looking at him as if he was on his deathbed.

 _I might as well be_. He ignored his nephew, turned on his heels and marched to the front door, into the garden, where he could see both Kate and Balin sitting on the bench.

That stopped him for just long enough to realise he couldn’t just confront her in front of the old warrior. The rest of the company was still unaware of the presence of this book and its contents. No one had taken her seriously when she had blurted out what dangers awaited them, thinking she had only said it to either frighten or anger them. He was the only one knowing that she had been serious. And maybe that was for the best.

The two people hadn’t seen him and Thorin remained where he was, unseen and unheard as their conversation unfolded.

‘And what does it matter anyway?’ Kate asked. ‘I don’t have a choice in this, do I? I don’t have any money, or at least not the kind I can pay with around here, I do not have anywhere to go. The only option I have is to go with you lot.’

The woman was obviously wallowing in self-pity, making Thorin even more reluctant than he already was to take her with them. Why couldn’t Gandalf just send her back? But even when he had all but demanded it of the wizard, he had refused, repeating his statement that she did have something to add to this quest.

‘I can’t make promises, you know,’ the woman said, looking down at the contract Balin had placed in front of her. ‘It’s right, I do know the book. But that doesn’t mean I will be a good addition to your company.’ Nonetheless, she signed it and handed it back to his old friend.

She _signed_. Was she out of her mind? She couldn’t be serious, could she? What was she thinking? What had her made her change her mind so drastically as to come with them when she had made it so clear she had no desire to only a few hours ago? It wasn’t like she didn’t have somewhere to go. The hobbit wasn’t coming and he seemed to have taken a liking to her, probably because they had both fallen victim to the wizard’s scheming.

And what made her even believe he would welcome her into the company? _Well, your contract might have something to do with that_ , a voice in the back of his head helpfully pointed out. And now that she had signed it, there was no way back anymore. The company was stuck with her and her dangerous book.

‘Ah, but you’ll try, won’t you?’ Balin asked her. The old warrior’s tone was sympathetic, reminding Thorin very much of the tone his old friend had always used on him when he was still a young dwarf, unsure of himself.

As Thorin’s right-hand man started back towards the house, the dwarf prince could hear her muttered reply. ‘Yes, I will.’ Balin didn’t seem to either hear her or see him lurking in the shadows as he went in and closed the door, now free of the mark Gandalf had placed on it.

Thorin waited half a minute before he approached Kate. The young woman seemed to have frozen into the same position she had when Balin left her; knees drawn up to her chin with her arms wrapped around them, staring into the distance.

Thorin had regained some control over himself, enough at least to not march up to her and start shouting. But the worry and fear still filled his heart and left little room for anything else. He walked over, using big steps, and threw the book on the empty spot of the bench. ‘What’s this?’ he demanded.

His sudden presence startled her. ‘Can you not do that?’ she asked in a loud voice, sending a glare his way.

‘What is that?’ Thorin repeated. He remained standing and was therefore practically looming over her now. A good thing that was too, because when standing, she was as tall as he was. Small for a human, she was indeed.

Miss Andrews glanced at the book. ‘An object that you had no business taking from my backpack,’ she retorted. ‘I take it you read it, then, or at least parts of it.’ Taken into account that the shock of learning about his own death would still be etched on his face, that was a conclusion that seemed rather obvious to Thorin. ‘You know what, I don’t care. You can have it, use it, whatever you want to do with it. I don’t care.’

But she wasn’t going to get away with it that easily. ‘It doesn’t all fit,’ he told her. Some things in this book had been wrong. He hadn’t arrived with the rest of the party, like the book said. There was still enough true that made him feel awfully ill at ease, though.

She snorted. ‘Yes, it does,’ she disagreed. ‘There is another version of this tale and that matches the events of this evening perfectly. Kind of freaks me out actually,’ she added under her breath.

He would have put it differently, but Thorin had to agree with her on that point. ‘So, you were not lying then, were you, Miss Andrews?’ he inquired.

‘Kate.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘My name’s Kate,’ she clarified. ‘If I’m going to be stuck with you lot for a while, you might as well use my first name. Bloody wizard.’

And again, he had to agree.

‘I take it you were no less successful than I was in convincing him to send me back?’ There wasn’t even any kind of hope in Miss Andrews’s, correction, Kate’s voice now.

‘The wizard will not be persuaded,’ Thorin confirmed. ‘And you signed the contract. Why?’

Kate huffed. ‘What else was I going to do?’ she wondered, laughing humourlessly.

Although he suspected it was a rhetorical question, he answered. ‘The hobbit will not come,’ he pointed out. ‘You could stay with him.’ Rather than travel with us. ‘He seems to have taken quite a shine to you.’

‘Oh, will he stay?’ She didn’t even look in his direction, but the tone was mocking. ‘Haven’t read that far then, have you? He will come, believe me. And if you don’t believe me, read the bloody book.’ The tone was full of bravado, but Thorin could hear the numbness underneath it. No matter how much he hated the fact that she would be coming on the quest (for after the signing of the contract there was no way back), he knew the sound of a person being lost, cruelly torn away from their homeland. It was a pain he could relate to all too easily. He also knew he couldn’t afford that feeling now. The quest was too important.

‘Is that in both the versions of your tale?’ he demanded.

She nodded. ‘You believe me, then?’

‘Gandalf believes you.’ Thorin tended to believe her as well, but he hardly dared to admit that, even to himself. Because believing her would mean he would also believe her book and that was something he could not do, did not want to do. He couldn’t go on this quest knowing he would be marching to his own death and those of several of his companions. ‘And I now have no choice but to take you with us.’ He hoped he could convey how much that vexed him.

She huffed. ‘Yes, because I’m so happy to go on a quest that might just get me killed, accompanied by a scheming wizard and a grumpy king surrounded by a bunch of school boys with beards.’ The sarcasm was too obvious to miss. ‘Do you think this is what I actually wanted? I expected to be home in two weeks, be with my friends, my family. Did you know my grandfather is gravely ill? He’ll probably die within a few months’ time. And thanks to your bloody quest, I may never see him again.’ The words came spilling out of her mouth, angry, but mostly tainted by hurt and desperation. Her grip on her knees tightened until her knuckles turned white. Thorin pretended not to see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Then why do you come?’ he demanded again, still not having received a satisfactory answer.

She turned on him now, her stormy grey eyes sparking with righteous rage. ‘Because if I am so lucky as to survive this mess, your quest may just prove to be my return ticket home. I have no desire to be stuck here for the rest of my life, Thorin Oakenshield. You want to go home, don’t you? Well, so do I and it seems accompanying you is the only way for me. Gandalf won’t send me back before I did what he brought me here to do, whatever the hell that is supposed to be.’

Sympathy was lurking in Thorin’s heart. There were striking similarities in their situations and they were all too easy to notice once you started looking. And that was something he could not do. Kate was still a liability. He knew next to nothing about her and she was unable to defend herself. She might as well have written _burden_ on her forehead.

But this was the situation they had to deal with. Kate was here, whether he liked it or not, and Gandalf was not sending her back. ‘Just stay out of everyone’s way,’ he told her bluntly. ‘And try to make yourself useful.’

He left her before she got the chance to reply.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notebook: _I signed the contract. And what on earth have I gotten myself into?_


	5. Questions

**Chapter 5**

**Questions**

 

_If after those conversations I thought I was being accepted into the group, I was sorely mistaken. I was merely being tolerated now that Thorin and Balin seemed to think I had the potential to be useful, but as soon as they would find out that I became more of a burden than an asset, I had no doubt they would leave me on the spot…_

Somehow Kate had been hoping things would be back to something passing as normal when she woke. She had gotten herself a quiet spot in the corner of Bilbo’s living room to sleep. There had been other dwarves in the room, but they were all a fairly good distance away and their snoring wasn’t too loud. Still, she had been awake for most of the night, lying on her back staring to the ceiling, trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened.

In short, she had landed in Hobbiton, courtesy of that meddling old wizard, and was now forced to go on a quest in order to get home again. If it wasn’t so utterly ridiculous, the facts would have been painfully simple. But it was ridiculous and so her mind went round in circles. There were no answers, only questions and the headache came back with a vengeance. In the end she silently cried herself to sleep, hoping against hope that she would find herself back in her own bed when she woke.

But she had no such luck. She was woken by a hand, shaking her shoulder softly. ‘Time to get up, lass.’

Kate cracked one eye open and found herself staring into the familiar yet unwelcome face of Balin. Disappointment washed over her. It had not been a dream. It was all too real and there was no way back.

He must have seen something on her face. ‘Sorry, lass,’ he told her, although he didn’t specify what he was sorry for.

‘I was hoping things would look better in the morning,’ she confessed. ‘I guess that was rather foolish of me.’

Balin offered her a sympathetic smile. ‘Afraid not. Come on, get out, otherwise Bombur will have eaten all the food.’

Having seen the size of said dwarf, Kate found it impossible to argue with that. She got up, packed her things together and made sure she would be ready to go as soon as it pleased Thorin to leave. The last thing she wanted was for him to have another reason to look at her the way he did; like she was personally responsible for all the wrongs in his life. He had made it clear last night that he viewed her as a liability and a liar, if nothing else. She didn’t need that look directed at her that much. If she stayed out of his way and attracted no attention, he might just forget about her, she decided, even as her more rebellious side longed to punch his arrogant face, and preferably break something in the process.

 _That temper of yours will be the death of you_ , she told herself sternly as she followed her nose to the kitchen.

The hobbit-sized kitchen was already full, but the daylight flooding in from the windows made it all feel a little less crowded. It made the room look bigger and the dwarves less intimidating, which was a strange thing to say, since she was taller than most of them.

‘Morning, Miss Andrews,’ Gandalf greeted. ‘I trust you slept well?’

Kate didn’t even bother with an answer. ‘Morning,’ she muttered at the rest, carefully avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. The whole thing felt terribly awkward. ‘Is there somewhere left for me to sit?’

‘Here, lass,’ Balin beckoned. He shoved over so that there was a little space between him and Kíli. ‘We saved you some breakfast.’

‘Thanks.’ Kate squeezed herself past at least three other dwarves before she reached her spot.

‘So,’ Kíli began, looking at her with interest.

‘So _what_?’ she asked.

His face split into a grin. ‘You are coming, then?’

She nodded, chewing of a bit of toast. ‘Yes, but I believe you already knew that, didn’t you?’ Thorin’s frustrated expression would most certainly have taken care of that. The dwarf prince, or king (she still hadn’t figured out which one it actually was) looked at his toast as if that was the sole cause for his troubles.

‘You signed the contract then?’ Fíli insisted.

‘Yes, I did.’ _Can’t you just let me finish my breakfast in peace?_

‘So, you are the omniscient one?’ Ori asked. He was one of the younger dwarves and only a tad less curious than Fíli and Kíli.

‘For the last time, _no_ , I am not. Gandalf thinks I have some information that might help you on your quest, although I cannot for the life of me figure out what he means. That does not make me some kind of all-knowing miracle. More like an adviser, or something like that.’ That didn’t fit in her opinion either, but it was better than that awful name Gandalf and the rest of the company seemed to have given it.

As she worked her way through her breakfast and the dwarves fortunately directed their attention elsewhere, she got some time to sift through her thoughts. Her head felt clearer than it had last night and in some ways the morning had made things look a bit better, less gloomy anyway. There was a small ray of hope on the horizon, some small hope that after this, she might just be able to return home. She had to hold on to that hope as best as she could. Right now it was the only thing keeping her from screaming.

 _They’ll be wondering where I am_. The thought had taken up residence in her head before she could even begin to block it out. _In two weeks they’ll start worrying. They’ll call the police and when they won’t be able to find me, they…_ She almost choked on a piece of bread as she realised people might think she had died when they would be unable to find her. Kíli patted her back to dislodge the food, sending her almost face first into her plate.

‘I’m fine,’ she managed to say, her voice sounding rather hoarse from all the coughing. ‘I’m okay. It was nothing.’ Her cheeks coloured bright crimson in embarrassment.

‘Are you sure, lass?’ Balin asked.

‘Positive,’ she reassured him. Why couldn’t the ground just open and swallow her up? ‘Really, I am fine. Now if all you gentlemen could stop behaving like worried old wives, please?’ The irritation started to win out.

Kate started to remove the food that had accidentally ended up in her hair as Kíli had “patted” her back, not looking at her companions, until it was yanked from her hands. ‘You should braid it,’ Kíli commented. ‘Saves you the trouble with food and such.’

‘Thanks, I am fine,’ she snapped at him, not liking how touchy-feely he was with her hair.

Kíli didn’t listen. In fact, he ignored her altogether as he half turned her around so he could get his hands on the rest of the unruly curls as well. Her protests were met by laughter.

 _Just go with it_ , she told herself, clenching and unclenching her fists, silently reminding herself to count to ten before flying off the handle. ‘You do know this is rude, right?’

‘It’s practical, lass,’ Balin said in a soothing voice. ‘You won’t want to be on the road with all that hair hanging around.’

 _Sod you too_. ‘Pot calling kettle black,’ she shot back. True, most of her companions had at least one braid in their hair, but Balin wasn’t one of them.

‘What happened to your neck?’ another dwarf suddenly asked. Kate thought it was Bofur, but she wasn’t sure yet. It could also be Bifur.

She tried to turn to hide the long white scar from sight, but Kíli’s hands held her firmly in place, effectively preventing her from moving. And anyway, the cat was already out of the bag now. All the dwarves stared at the long since healed wound and those that couldn’t see it, leaned over so that they could.

‘Nothing,’ she replied curtly, using her hands to cover the ugly thing. Most of the time she let her hair hang loose as to prevent questions like this one.

‘Doesn’t look like nothing,’ Fíli remarked, taking a closer look at it. ‘What happened?’

Kate weighed her chances of getting out of this with a scathing put-down and found them slim to none. ‘Street robbery,’ she admitted. ‘They wanted my purse, I wanted me to have my purse and then they came at me with a knife. They scratched my neck, I broke the nose of the first thug and gave his mate a shiner and they backed off. End of story.’ Not exactly true, but that was need-to-know information anyway and they didn’t need to know she had been transported to the hospital in an ambulance where she had to stay for the next few days because of the amount of blood that she had lost. ‘I got to keep my purse anyway,’ she added as an afterthought.

‘Your right hook that will knock out dragons and orcs must have been something to behold.’ Since this was coming out of Dwalin’s mouth instead of Balin’s, Kate got the idea that her conversation with Balin had not remained as private as she had thought. Bloody dwarves.

‘Told you it was magnificent.’ Hopefully making a joke out of it would help. _But if you gossip about me again, then so help me God…_

‘You’ve got something to tie up the braid?’ Kíli asked from behind her.

‘Yes, in my bag,’ she replied. Now that her hair was out of her face, she had to admit it was practical. It would be nice not to have it getting blown into her face all the time. ‘Leave it, Kíli. It’ll hold till then.’

She got the feeling the dwarves made a point of ignoring her when it suited them. From across the table something was thrown her way. She caught it before she realised it was in fact a leather strip. It took her another few seconds to realise that Thorin had been the one to throw it.

‘Why…?’ she began to ask, but Thorin had already risen from his chair, interrupting her before she could finish that question.

‘We move out in a quarter of an hour,’ he told his company. ‘Everyone who is not ready by then will be left behind.’ A meaningful look was thrown in her direction. ‘It would seem that you were wrong about the hobbit, Miss Andrews.’

It was said in such a condescending tone that Kate could not help but react. She was on her feet before she knew it, only then realising Kíli was still holding her hair. But she ignored the painful pulling of her hair, instead giving the dwarf king the full benefits of her iciest death glare. ‘I bet he’ll be with us before lunchtime.’

Thorin’s eyes betrayed how surprised he was by this, even if the rest of his face remained perfectly indifferent. ‘And how will you pay me when you lose?’ he questioned. ‘You said yourself your money is worth nothing here.’

 _But I won’t lose, will I?_ ‘ _If_ I lose,’ she said with emphasis, ‘I’ll leave it up to you to determine what I owe you.’ _Please let Bilbo do as he is supposed to do, or I’ll be screwed, royally_.

‘That is a rather dangerous bet,’ Thorin remarked. ‘Are you sure, Miss Andrews?’

Kate nodded immediately. Had she been in any other mood she would have thought twice about such a wager, but she was angry now and hurt by his lack of trust in her knowledge, even though he had read parts of the book. _That temper will be the death of you_ , common sense whispered in the back of her head. She ignored it. ‘I am sure. Are _you_?’

Had her mother been here she would have pulled her down, hissing at her daughter to hold her tongue, whilst apologising to Thorin about Kate’s inappropriate behaviour. But since she was in another world, there was no one to rein her in.

Something flashed in Thorin’s eyes. It may have been rage, it may have been another wave of surprise. It was gone before she could make sense of it. ‘Deal,’ he replied icily before marching out of the kitchen.

‘Wow,’ Kíli said, sounding impressed. ‘I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him take a wager, Kate. You must have really vexed him.’

Kate snorted. ‘My very presence seems to vex him. I’m afraid it’s not that much of an achievement.’ She got up to collect her luggage. ‘Thanks for the braid, by the way.’

He gave her a charming smile. ‘You’re welcome.’

 _I bet_. Kíli seemed to have the same characteristics as her brother, which might explain why she got along with him and his brother so easily.

The house was filled with the sound of dwarves laughing and joking as she walked to the other end of the hole to get her bags. She supposed she would be assigned a pony, so at least she didn’t have to carry it all herself. Even though the idea of riding an actual pony made her shiver, she tried not to show it. She had never actual ridden before, unless you counted that one time on the funfair when she was six and that didn’t really count in Kate’s opinion. Someone had held the beast all the time and it had only been for five minutes. But she’d be damned before she told that to her companions. There already seemed to be a small group that thought she was next to useless. She would not give them another confirmation of that theory.

The dwarves seemed to be split into three groups, she pondered as she was strapping the holdall to her pony. The first group, led by Thorin of course, considered her a liability and a burden. The next group was the group that might potentially like her. For now they were just curious about her and where she came from. Kíli and Balin were among them. The rest was undecided for now. It would depend on the events still to come how they would feel about her.

‘Need help, lass?’ Ori’s question snapped her out of her thoughts.

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Kate replied stiffly. ‘But thanks for offering.’

The young dwarf smiled at her. ‘You need anything, you just ask.’ He was blushing a bit, reminding Kate inevitably of Bashful from the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves Disney movie. She decided not to tell him about that. Something told her that these dwarves would be gravely offended by that fairy tale and honestly, she couldn’t even blame them. Not for that anyway. Heaven knew she blamed them for pretty much everything else.

They set out exactly a quarter of an hour after Thorin’s announcement. No one would be able to accuse these dwarves of being anything less than punctual. They left Hobbiton in a long row, gaining them quite a bit of attention from its inhabitants that openly stared at and after them, expressions varying from mild curiosity to downright disapproval of such a disturbance of the peace.

Kate might have been enjoying the friendly landscape and the morning sunshine that drove the chill away, were it not that was too aware of the reason why she was here in the first place. Her eyes settled on the back of the grey wizard, who had taken it upon himself to lead the way. No one was riding with him for now. Maybe this would be the ideal moment to try and get some answers from him.

 

***

 

Thorin tried not to express his surprise as Kate rushed past him and started riding next to Gandalf. Given the events of last night Thorin would have suspected she would have avoided him like the plague. She had no trouble whatsoever hiding her loathing towards the wizard, making it all too clear that Middle Earth was the last place she desired to be.

‘You and I need to talk,’ she announced. Thorin had no idea what she did in her world, but he guessed she was some kind of authority figure, despite her young age. There was no mistaking that commanding tone.

The dwarf had to admit she had chosen her moment well. Gandalf had no smoke or other conversation to hide behind at present, nor were there any people around he could suddenly begin a conversation with. As far as one could say cornered about a man on a moving horse, the wizard was just that.

‘And about what would that be, my dearest girl?’ the old man wondered.

Thorin tried to look at something else than them, not wanting to alert them to the fact that he was for all intents and purposes eavesdropping on them, even when it was practically them that had come within his earshot.

‘I think you know,’ Kate replied icily. ‘You never answered my question. Why did you bring me here? Truly. Because I am not sure I believe all that bullshit about being some kind of guide.’

‘Oh, I am sure you will be,’ Gandalf replied, clearly trying to avoid answering Kate’s question.

That peeked Thorin’s own interest. He had known the wizard for quite some time now and if there was anything he had learned in all that time, it was that Gandalf always started acting like this whenever he had an ulterior motive for something. He had done it just now, but also when he had been asked about how many dragons he had killed and when Thorin himself had asked what the real reason was for selecting Mr Baggins as the burglar. He shouldn’t have been surprised that there was also more to Miss Andrews’s being here than the wizard had let on.

‘Yes, you seem to leave me very little choice in the matter,’ Kate muttered sourly. ‘It doesn’t explain why you chose me, though. Where I come from there are dozens of people who know the book inside out, who do know how to survive in the wild and who can fight on top of that. I think we both know I’m not the ideal candidate, so I ask again: why me?’

Gandalf suddenly pretended to be overly interested in the road ahead.

If Kate’s posture was anything to go by, she was positively boiling over with rage now. Unlike Thorin she had no idea how to control her anger. It came and went unexpectedly, feeling like a force of nature to those it was directed against. But the effects were far less than that. Thorin got the amusing picture of a small cat pretending to be a lion. You might be fooled by her harsh and unfeeling words, but when it came to it she was just another fragile human woman, incapable to make good on the threats she uttered.

But when she spoke her voice was sounding as icy as Thorin’s own when he was mad at someone. ‘Let me tell you what I think about this,’ she proposed. ‘And you can correct me if I am wrong.’

There was no response from Gandalf.

Kate went on regardless. ‘I think you have been to my world,’ she told the wizard. ‘I think you know the story. You know too much about where I come from not to have been there. That brochure for the hiking trip? You knew the names of places, of machinery, means of transport…’ Her voice trailed off, thoughtfully now. ‘There is just no way you could have known about things that don’t even exist around here without having been in my world to see it with your own eyes. You even fooled me and I am from there.’

Gandalf didn’t contradict it. Instead the wizard looked to his left, away from Kate. ‘Have you noticed the birds around here, Miss Andrews?’ he asked pleasantly.

Thorin knew immediately that Kate’s assessment of the situation had been spot on. He also knew that when he reacted like this, no amount of coaxing could persuade him to part with his secrets. All that this was telling them was that Gandalf did have some kind of plan involving Kate, same as he had for Mr Baggins, who still had to make an appearance. And whatever this plan was, Gandalf was not going to share it with anyone before he thought the time was right. Knowing the wizard, that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

‘Thought so,’ Kate muttered under her breath.

She too had apparently recognised this behaviour for what it was, and was less than pleased with it. But it felt to Thorin as if none of them actually had a choice in what to do now. Gandalf had somehow become the puppet master of this adventure. Thorin was still trying to work out how and when exactly that had happened.

‘But why am _I_ here?’ Kate urged, not giving up yet. ‘Why me and not someone else more skilled?’

Gandalf smiled at her, a kind and friendly smile. ‘It will be very good for you, my girl,’ he informed her. Acting like that, like a kind old gentleman, it was almost impossible to remain angry with him, even though they knew he was orchestrating every minute of this. ‘And most amusing for me,’ the wizard added under his breath.

Kate’s head swivelled in his direction, so Thorin was allowed a look on her face as well. The woman’s eyes were narrowed, her forehead forced into a wary frown. ‘You do know the story,’ she concluded, although the dwarf could by no means establish how she could be so sure about that.

The wizard smiled again. ‘What gave me away?’ he wondered.

So he admitted it. He knew the contents of the book and possibly the other version Kate had mentioned last night. So why had he brought her here if he had all the relevant information himself? Thorin wasn’t sure if this conversation was giving him answers or just provided him with more questions.

‘Quoting the movie at me,’ Kate replied, her tone grumpy, but also confused. ‘You said the exact same thing to Bilbo when you chose him for the job. Can’t say he took it any better than me, though.’

‘Quite right,’ Gandalf agreed. ‘You seem to react much more reasonable.’

There was absolutely nothing reasonable in Kate’s expression now. She glared at the wizard. ‘Good for me, eh? Have you ever thought about if this is good for them as well?’

Gandalf was saved from having to answer that question by shouting in the distance. ‘Wait!’ someone yelled. ‘Wait!’

Thorin stopped the pony and turned around to see a breathless Bilbo, with the contract waving behind him like some kind of flag. His face bore an expression of excitement.

‘I signed it,’ Mr Baggins announced with no small amount of smugness seeping through in his voice. He walked over to Balin and handed him the contract back.

The old warrior examined it and then nodded. ‘Everything appears to be in order,’ he said. ‘Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.’

Thorin himself was still trying to determine whether to be relieved that the burglar had turned up, saving them the bother of finding another, or to be annoyed at the presence of yet another useless individual in his company. But, like Kate, there was no turning him away now.  They would have to make do with him, as unhappy as he was to have the hobbit here. One day Gandalf would pay for this, he would make sure of that.

‘Give him a pony,’ he ordered.

The hobbit started voicing his protests, but Thorin wasn’t even listening anymore. He knew his orders would be obeyed and so he started moving again, blocking out Mr Baggins’s arguments for walking and his shout of protest as he was lifted onto the pony.

He only noticed now that Kate had taken her distance from the wizard and was now riding next to him, a huge grin on her face. It could almost be called triumphant. Oh well, who was he fooling? That was exactly what it was.

‘I’d say it is still before lunchtime, don’t you agree?’ she asked him. ‘Which means that you have lost,’ she added helpfully when he didn’t immediately understand what she was going on about.

The bet. Of course, he had taken that stupid wager with her and he had lost. And judging by the look on her face she had known that all along. He could feel what little sympathy he had found for her go down the drain that very moment. For some unfathomable reason she liked to see him humiliated.

He threw her the money. ‘Spend it well,’ he snapped at her. ‘Since you won’t be getting anything else.’ He didn’t await her reaction, but kicked his pony into a gallop, away from her and her dangerous knowledge.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _The first chance I get, I swear I’ll lose that dreadful woman, no matter what the wizard says._


	6. Uncomfortable Situations

**Chapter 6**

**Uncomfortable Situations**

 

_I learned a good few things those first two weeks on the road. The first and foremost was that fanfiction was a load of bullshit at the very best of times. Somehow authors seemed to miss out on the troubles one has when traveling with a bunch of dwarves or, better still, male individuals._

_Of course I had always known that men did not value personal hygiene as much as women did, but I had more or less been prepared for that and most evenings I had a least a chance to freshen myself up a bit at a nearby brook or stream. I had also anticipated the lack of privacy, although that was getting to me a lot more. Never having as much as moment to myself made me irritable and on edge and I’m ashamed to admit I took it out on my companions a lot of the time, especially when they were bugging me with questions about my personal life again._

_But so far it was nothing that I hadn’t known to expect. I had gotten a few changes of clothes whilst staying in Bree for the night, paid for with the money I had won from Thorin, and had at the same time purchased some good boots as well. My hiking shoes were all good and well, but as soon as it started to rain the water would surely soak my socks._

_Strangely enough it were the small things that really got to me: the dwarves’ snoring, the pain in my muscles after spending the day on a pony (definitely_ not _a horse), the hostility I could still feel practically radiating off some of my new companions, especially Thorin, and the annoying flirting remarks coming from the younger dwarves._

_But it would soon turn out I had really forgotten all about the biggest problem I had…_

 

It was two weeks to the day that Kate had been spirited away from the bus stop into Middle Earth. She had been dreading this day for weeks, lying awake at night, hoping against hope that Gandalf would just send her back home as soon as the two weeks were over, like he had promised in that blasted brochure he had sent her. Of course she knew deep down she would have no such luck, but the foolish hope was sometimes the only thing that kept her going, or kept her from exploding for that matter.

She had been worrying. What would her family do if they discovered Kate had quite literally disappeared off the face of the earth? She imagined they would call the police, start an investigation. The police would search for her, investigate every clue until the trail inevitably went dead. As time dragged on, they would start to give up hope, tell her loved ones to prepare for the worst…

 _Stop thinking about that!_ Kate ordered herself. She had been awake most of the night, feeling restless, too wound up to sleep and the dwarves’ snoring had only helped her to stay awake. So now she lay on her bedroll, arms folded under her head, staring to the slightly lightning sky.

Bofur had the last watch and he was already stirring up the fire again, preparing for the day. Kate sighed and decided to get up and help him prepare breakfast. At least it would give her something to do, distracting her from the thoughts she did not want to think.

It began as she was fetching water from the brook that was situated just a few meters away from their camp; a nagging, uncomfortable feeling in her lower belly. _Stress_ , she told herself, dismissing the feeling, carrying on with her chores, trying to ignore it as best she could.

There was no ignoring it after breakfast anymore. The discomfort had steadily grown into a full-blown ache, a very attention demanding, crippling kind of pain.

 _Shit_ , she thought. How long ago was it since she last bled? She made a quick calculation in her head. Four weeks, if she was not mistaken, and by now she was quite sure that she wasn’t. _Shit, shit, shit!_ In all those fictions she had read, she had never once read about a heroine who had her monthly period whilst traveling. In fact, they didn’t seem to have a period at all, until they found out they had gotten themselves pregnant by some member of the company.

 _Well, at least there’s one thing that won’t happen to me_ , Kate thought wryly. It didn’t change the fact that she now knew exactly what was causing her to feel so bad and that she actually had no idea how to deal with this.

‘We’ll move out in half an hour,’ Thorin announced as soon as breakfast was done. ‘Make sure you’re all ready by then.’ He gave Kate a pointed look, which she ignored. So far she had never been late, so she guessed by now it was more of a habit than an actual threat. Oh, she didn’t doubt he would leave her behind if she gave him as much as the smallest of excuses. The leader of the company had not exactly made it a secret that the quest was his main concern and that he saw both her and poor Bilbo as burdens.

And here she was, about to confirm everything he had ever thought about her. She knew herself. Taking painkillers might ease the pain a bit, enough to take the worst edge off it, but it was not going to be easy in any way and riding a pony wouldn’t do her any favours either.

She grabbed her bag and made for the small stream nearby to examine the damage. It would appear that she had some luck left, although she wasn’t aware that she had it in the first place. The bleeding wasn’t too bad yet and at least she had taken some precautions, just in case she wouldn’t be home in time.

 _Well, I’m definitely not home in time._ The thought nagged at her that she might not be home for months to come and that she would go through this again before the quest ended, multiple times as well. The painkillers would probably not be any problem – she had stocked up on those enough and if she was careful she might just have enough of them to last the quest, especially since the pain normally didn’t last longer than a day – but her other resources would. She was already running low. But she was not going to ask for assistance. Kate thought she would rather bleed to death than ask advice on this particular subject from any man, let alone these men. Apart from the fact she would probably embarrass them as much as she’d embarrass herself, they wouldn’t know what to do either.

 _So, you hold out until Rivendell_ , she promised herself, knowing they would reach that before this problem would come next time. _Surely there are female elves there who can give me a few pointers?_

At least she bloody well hoped so. Oh, she’d probably want to die of shame when she did ask, but sometimes one had to do the things one hated.

‘Kate? Kate, are you there?’ That was Fíli’s voice.

Kate quickly hid all the evidence that might give away her problem and then answered. ‘I’m here.’ She quickly filled her water bottle and swallowed a painkiller before the dwarf would reach her.

Or so she’d thought. ‘What are you doing?’ Fíli sounded a bit suspicious. He fell into the category of dwarves that seemed to have taken some kind of liking to her, but it was still laced with wariness.

It was present with all of them. She was after all a stranger from another world with some dangerous knowledge stuffed away in her backpack. It didn’t help that her only motivation to come on this quest was her hope that Gandalf would send her home again. They all knew that when it would come to a choice between them or returning to her own home in her own world, she would choose the latter without as much as a second thought. In that particular respect even Bilbo was held in higher regard than she was, because he at least had come out of his own free will. Kate had merely been forced into this, but Bilbo had, for reasons that were still somewhat vague to Kate (and the rest of the company as well), chosen to go on an adventure. A little nudge out of the door, was what Gandalf had called it in the Lord of the Rings movie and that was precisely what it was. Well, if he had been nudged, Kate had been dragged.

She thought about lying for half a second and then decided against it. These people already mistrusted her and she could do without giving them another reason for kicking her out. So, true, she didn’t want to be on this quest, but she wanted to be left alone on the road in a strange world even less.

‘Taking a painkiller,’ she replied, stuffing the small box back in the backpack in order not to look at him. She was pretty sure her facial colour now closely resembled that of a ripe tomato.

Fíli actually looked at her in concern now. ‘Are you injured?’ he questioned, coming a few steps closer.

‘No, no!’ she hastened to say. Ugh, why hadn’t she just lied about this? The whole thing was already incredibly more awkward than she could have possibly imagined.

A frown crept onto his face. ‘Then what is wrong with you?’ he urged. ‘Are you ill?’

She turned to him now. ‘I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.’ She got to her feet, but could not help but grimace as the pain shot through her body at that movement. Today was going to be a long day to be sure.

If she had been hoping the dwarf would back off, her almost doubling over with the pain had rendered that effort null and void again. Fíli actually belonged to the group that might potentially like her, so he was more inclined to be worried about her. Good grief, why couldn’t it just have been Dwalin who had come to find her? She was pretty sure he would not have made such a fuss. In all likeliness he would just have ignored this, which irritated her normally, but would have suited her just fine in this case.

‘You are hurt!’ Fíli exclaimed.

‘Who is hurt?’ And if things weren’t bad already, they were certainly now. Thorin came marching into the clearing.

‘Kate is,’ Fíli replied before she got the chance to answer herself.

‘Am not,’ she contradicted, but it sounded feeble, even to her own ears. Why, just why would she have to be one of those women that had to have so much trouble with her monthly period? She was all too aware this made her look like some delicate female who was not made for traveling the wild. In the last two weeks she had done everything in her power to let her companions at least look at her as if she wasn’t a complete waste of space. She clenched her fists in frustration.

Thorin’s cold look told her he didn’t buy that. ‘What is going on here?’ he demanded. When he spoke like that it was all too easy to realise that he indeed was royalty.

‘Nothing,’ Kate said forcefully. ‘I. Am. Fine.’ _Meaning: I am not in the mood to discuss this with either of you._

Of course Fíli didn’t catch on. Men and intuition, obviously two words that weren’t meant to be used in the same sentence. ‘I think she is hurt. She took something called a painkiller and she almost doubled over when she tried to stand.’

Kate could feel her cheeks flush and she made to march away, back to the camp, only to realise that Fíli had apparently taken her arm to steady her. ‘It’s nothing,’ she muttered.

She could feel Thorin’s eyes looking her over. ‘It doesn’t look like nothing,’ he stated.

Kate snorted. ‘Oh, please, don’t start pretending you actually care about what happens to me, because we both know that would be a huge lie. I am fine. I can handle this.’

A smirk graced his features. ‘So you do admit that there is something the matter?’

She glared at him, her reaction made ten times worse by her own embarrassment. So much for handling this discreetly and away from nosy dwarves. ‘Can you not just leave me be?’ she demanded. ‘We both know you don’t care about me, so can you please just bugger off?’

His glare matched hers perfectly, although Thorin excelled in radiating ice rather than fire. ‘You are a member of this company, Miss Andrews, no matter how much we both detest that fact. Your wellbeing is a concern of mine.’

 _Just not one that seems to be high on your sodding list of priorities._ ‘Then rest assured in the knowledge that there is nothing you can do for me. Whatever bloody problem I have will solve itself.’ _And now please, please drop the subject._

Of course she had underestimated the dwarfish stubbornness. ‘If you are feeling unwell, Miss Andrews…’

She broke him off, her temper getting the better of her. ‘It’s a womanly problem,’ she explained. ‘And one that you for sure do not want to know about.’ _And I sure as hell don’t want to tell you about it._ She was already wishing the ground would just open and swallow her up.

This announcement however only resulted in two dwarves looking utterly confused. ‘What do you mean?’ Fíli asked.

‘Please don’t make me spell this out for you,’ she begged.

The dwarves remained unmoving, obviously waiting for her explanation.

‘Oh, for crying out loud!’ she mumbled in frustration, before blurting out the reason for her behaviour, keeping her gaze fixed on her boots, however: ‘Monthly problem, you know, what women have?’ The nerves made it come out incoherent and far too fast, but at least it seemed to have achieved its goal. Both men nodded in understanding first, before the understanding was replaced with something that might have been described as horror.

‘Ehm, if you’re sure you’re all right?’ Fíli’s tone clearly told her he was as uncomfortable with this as she was; his face coloured bright red, eyes darting as if looking for an escape route.

If this all had not been so incredibly awkward, Kate was sure she would be howling with laughter at their reactions now. They were both adults, battle-hardened warriors, who had seen a lot of bad things, but yet they had no idea how to handle the idea that women bled, albeit in a somewhat different way than warriors on the battlefield.

But this was in no way funny now. Her lower belly felt like someone was poking several knives in it and her own shame at the situation made her reply come out louder and harsher than she would have liked. ‘ _Fine_!’ she snapped at them. ‘And can you just go? I’ll be in the camp in five minutes, just _go_!’ She wasn’t sure she could handle facing them any longer. And she wasn’t sure either how or if they could handle this all too awkward situation for much longer either.

Either way, she didn’t need to tell them twice. They all but fled from the clearing, Thorin giving a last stern ‘Five minutes, Miss Andrews’ before he too disappeared as fast as his legs could carry him.

Kate sank to the ground again, for a moment allowing herself to wallow in self-pity. _What a freaking mess._

 

***

 

True to her word, Miss Andrews re-entered the camp exactly five minutes later. The rest of the company had already packed away all their belongings and were ready to go. Bofur plucked up the courage to ask if she was all right and was rewarded for his effort by a snapped ‘ _fine_!’ from Kate. Fíli had obviously seen fit to inform his brother of the situation, because Thorin’s nephews were both trying their hardest, and failing, not to look at the only female in the company.

Not that Thorin himself could handle this much better than they could. He wasn’t exactly new to the idea of people bleeding; he had witnessed battles, for Durin’s sake. But this, this was something else entirely and for whatever reason he wasn’t comfortable talking or even thinking about it. He shouldn’t have asked, he now chastised himself. She had been right; this was not the kind of information he needed.

Having said that, Kate did look positively miserable. Her shoulders hunched, she clung to the reins and saddle as if her very life depended on it. Her face was ashen white and it didn’t get better with time, but she never as much as uttered a word, a whimper, any indication that she was hurting, although everyone could clearly see that she was. But she slapped down any concerned questions about her wellbeing with an irritated ‘fine!’ that was obviously a lie, but no one actually dared to question her about it anymore.

That was all right with Thorin. If she wanted to pretend that she was fine, then he would act accordingly. And they really couldn’t afford to waste any time. Waiting a day until Miss Andrews felt well enough was not even an option for him, although it would have provided him with the perfect excuse to leave her behind, as he had been longing to do for the past two weeks.

But apparently Kate had to decide to annoy him further. Instead of all but demanding they let her get well, she had gotten on her pony, all but demanding they get on and let her deal with her “womanly problem” on her own. Well, at least everyone had been more than happy to comply with the last part of that demand.

The day dragged on and on and one way or another Thorin’s thoughts kept returning to the suffering human woman a few ponies behind him. He was not an indifferent man, no matter what others might think of him. And yes, he hated the idea of a woman (a fragile human woman at that) in his company with a passion, but she had signed that contract and that made her his responsibility, whether he liked it or not.

Once again he wondered what in Durin’s name Gandalf had been thinking when he had brought her here. Kate had pointed out that there were more than enough people who would have been perfectly suited to join the quest and that she surely was not one of them. The wizard must have had some ulterior motive when he had chosen Kate for the job. He looked over his shoulder at the hobbit, who looked ill at ease and at least ten times as miserable as Miss Andrews, and changed his mind. Maybe Gandalf had just been his usual weird self.

But it didn’t matter which way you looked at it, it was all too clear that a long march was out of the question. Thorin couldn’t care less about Bilbo’s miserable state, especially when there was no real cause for it, but Kate looked like she might actually fall off the pony if they didn’t make camp soon. So when they came at a secluded spot between high rocks, Thorin decided to give in and call it a day.

‘We’ll make camp here,’ he announced. ‘Fíli, Kíli, see to the ponies. Bombur, make sure we get some supper. Dori, Nori, get a fire going.’

He dismounted and retrieved his luggage off the pony, bringing it over to a place in the corner of the camp in order to create a bit of a private spot for himself. But he felt restless and he knew why. It wasn’t even dark yet. They could have gone on for a few more hours, use all the time they had. Ever since he had made the decision to do as he had dreamed of for most of his life and take back Erebor from the dragon, it was as if a fire had been lit within him. After endless years of feeling lost and useless he had finally gotten a purpose again. His life had meaning once more. It had started off as a flame of hope, burning ever higher until he had been unable to remain in Ered Luin any longer. He needed to do this, or die trying. The fire urged him forward, urged him to never stop, never rest until the task was done.

He felt for the key Gandalf had given him, somehow reassured by its presence. If anything, that key, that beacon of hope, only convinced him of that this was indeed the right thing to do. Thorin didn’t have that much faith in prophecies or birds flying back to the Lonely Mountain, even though many of his companions did. For him it was the key that had done it. And now there was no way back for him, even if he had wanted to. And he didn’t want to go back in the first place. This was now or never, a once in a lifetime opportunity and it was his duty towards his people, not just his own wish, to do everything in his power to give them back their one true home.

And what could that human understand of that anyway? She had been sitting near the fire ever since they had stopped. Balin had been so kind as to relieve her pony of its burdens while Kate had curled up at the fire, her arms wrapped around her legs, looking white and on the verge of crying. She had looked that exact same way when Thorin had confronted her in the hobbit’s garden two weeks ago.

Looking at her now, Thorin could not escape the notion of how weak, how vulnerable, she appeared. This woman was not made for the road. Not that he thought that any woman was meant to be traveling with a company such as this one, but if they had to have one female presence amongst them, Thorin would have appreciated one of his own race. Dwarf women were tougher, less easily hurt and as fierce as their menfolk, albeit in a slightly different way. And they had the added bonus of not looking like they could get blown away in a light breeze.

The dark started to settle over the land and supper came and passed. Thorin wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so he carried his portion with him to his own spot, choosing to eat in solitude instead of seeking the loud conversation of his men. Kate had remained with them, but she didn’t take part in the conversation and the men left her alone.

The group spread out, some choosing to get an early night, others taking some time to mend broken things, sharpen swords or just smoke a pipe. Thorin saw Bilbo sneaking off to the ponies, giving one of them an apple as he did almost every night. The hobbit might think that it was a secret, but he wasn’t as stealthy as he thought he was.

Kate had finally left the fire and situated herself on a large rock close to the animals. She had her cloak wrapped around her and her back turned towards him. Well, if she wanted to suffer in silence she was welcome to it.

It was the shrieking and screaming of wargs and orcs in the distance that got everyone’s attentions. Mr Baggins, who would never have encountered either of those in his comfortable, peaceful Shire turned towards them, eyes wide and full of fear. ‘What was that?’

‘Orcs,’ Kíli replied, thoughtfully, still trying to determine the exact source of the noise.

‘Orcs?’ Bilbo echoed, all but fleeing back to the camp.

‘Throat cutters,’ Fíli told him, sounding way too cheerful. ‘There’ll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.’ The way he said that, the casual tone to his voice brought Thorin’s blood close to boiling point already. His nephew may have been fighting a few of those monsters already, but in truth, he had no idea what they were like.

Before he could react, Kíli went on, speaking as if he was telling some kind of scary story. ‘They strike in the wee small hours when everyone is asleep,’ he told the already frightened hobbit in a low voice. ‘Quick and quiet. No screams, just lots of blood.’ The brothers chuckled as Mr Baggins seemed to be on the verge of collapse after their words.

They didn’t know, did they? They knew as much about orcs and the dangers they represented as that naïve hobbit, but it was the laughing – laughing about it of all things – that made Thorin lose his temper. He couldn’t help remembering his own worst encounter with the foul creatures, resulting in the loss of both his father and grandfather. And Fíli and Kíli were just laughing about it.

‘Do you think that’s funny?’ he demanded. A deadly quiet settled over the camp as everyone stared at him. Thorin didn’t know exactly when he had gotten to his feet, but when he checked again, he had. ‘Do you think a night raid by orcs is a joke?’

Kíli met his gaze, but he at least had the decency to look guilty and a bit ashamed. Fíli just avoided the look, taking Gandalf’s “good” example in hiding behind a literal smokescreen. ‘We didn’t mean anything by it,’ Kíli replied by way of an apology.

But that was the very heart of the problem, wasn’t it? ‘No, you didn’t,’ he agreed in a voice that was harsher than he had really meant it. ‘You know nothing of the world.’ Too wound up to go back to his spot, he stalked out of the camp towards the cliff. In a way he even envied them their naivety. What he wouldn’t give not to know about the horrors of the world! But he did know them and he had to live with them.

Behind him he could hear Balin tell the tale of that horrible battle as the dwarves fought for the kingdom of Moria. Even though it was long ago, he could still see it, picture it as if it was only yesterday.

The screaming of the orcs sounded in the distance. Kate’s silhouette caught his eye, still unmoving, seemingly deaf to the horrid cries of the creatures out there. He hated to talk to her, but right now she might just be the answer to his prayers. At least a conversation would block out Balin’s voice and the memories he wasn’t sure he could face now.

‘You shouldn’t be out here on your own,’ he told her.

His voice clearly startled her. ‘Can you not do that?’ she asked in an angry voice, like she had done two weeks previously, although her voice sounded all that more weak now. ‘You scared the crap out of me.’

‘You shouldn’t be out here,’ Thorin repeated.

Kate huffed, tucking her cloak tighter around her. ‘They won’t come here,’ she told him.

The dwarf could feel his eyebrows rise. ‘How can you be so certain?’

She shrugged. ‘Story stuff,’ she clarified. ‘They won’t trouble us. Yet.’

Thorin was still not convinced that her story was even true. To be quite honest, he had been trying his hardest to forget about her book and the information it contained, forcing it to the back of his mind. He wasn’t that sure that it was all a lie – there was too much truth in it for it to be just that – but he wasn’t sure he could accept it as the truth either.

‘Still, no one should stray too far from the group, especially not at night,’ he insisted.

The woman snorted. ‘Careful,’ she warned him. ‘Or you might fool me into believing you actually care about what happens to me.’ In the dark it was difficult to see her face, but the words still sounded as spoken through clenched teeth. The bravado wasn’t necessarily anything more than that. She was still hurting.

‘If you are in pain, you need to do something about it,’ Thorin snapped at her.

‘I can’t!’ she barked at him. ‘It will be gone by morning. Trust me, I know.’

Thorin meant to ask how she was so sure of that, but in the end decided against it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. ‘Then stop sulking and get some sleep,’ he ordered her. It might be a bit brusque, but he didn’t mean it like that. She was under his protection after all and he had been brought up to be courteous to women, as long as they did not belong to the elven race of course.

‘Don’t you have some story to listen to, after which you can majestically strut back into the camp?’ she moaned. ‘Or do something else equally pointless. Just do it somewhere else.’ It was a clear dismissal.

He had frozen into place at her mention of the story Balin was telling and the casual way she had told him what she thought he would do next. It wasn’t really a suggestion. From the way she spoke Thorin would almost say that she expected him to behave in that particular way. And it unsettled him even more to know that, had he not had a distraction from his oldest friend’s tale, he might have done exactly what she had just said.

He grabbed her arm without thinking. ‘How do you know?’ he hissed at her. ‘How can you know what I would do?’

Kate tried to wriggle free, but it was almost too easy for him to hold on to her. She was a human, and a woman at that, and she was weak. He hardly felt her efforts. ‘How I know?’ she hissed back. ‘Because I know the sodding story, for crying out loud! Now, get off me!’

He ignored her. ‘Stories can’t be that detailed.’

‘Well, they are,’ she argued stubbornly. ‘And if you don’t want to believe me, that’s your problem, not mine. Can you just go now?’

The woman clearly wanted to be left alone and Thorin would like to do nothing more than grant her that wish, but he had questions that needed answering first. ‘You don’t know the first thing about me, or this world.’

She glared at him. The moon reflected in her eyes, so he could actually see the glower she sent his way. ‘Fine!’ she snapped, still in a soft voice as to not to alert the others to the argument. ‘That’s established then: I know nothing about you and you know nothing about me. Now will you kindly just bugger off? You may have missed the more subtle signs earlier, but I’m not in the mood for company today.’

‘Do you think I am?’ he demanded, unable not to respond to the angry words that came pouring out of her mouth.

‘I don’t care,’ she told him bluntly. ‘I really couldn’t care less about how you feel. I’ve got enough of my own problems to handle at the moment, thank you very much. You have made it very clear these past two weeks that you do not care about me at all. Let me tell you now: the feeling is mutual.’

He released her as if he had burned himself on her. There was fire blazing in her eyes. It was a burning hatred towards him that he saw there. He had known she hadn’t liked him and he in turn had never quite taken to her either, but this was unexpected. And he wasn’t even sure he cared as little as he had told her. After all, she was a member of this company and he didn’t really like it that she was feeling so wretched.

But her last few sentences replaced that concern with ice-cold dislike, disgust even. ‘Fine,’ he snapped at her, ignoring the fact that that was actually her favourite phrase. ‘Have it your way.’

‘Perfect,’ she agreed angrily. ‘Then just get the hell out of here.’

And for the first time ever, he obeyed.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notebook: _If I thought there were no new lows to be reached, I was wrong. How about having my monthly period, embarrassing everyone in the company, including myself, feeling like someone keeps stabbing me in the belly and getting into a heated argument with the prince of prats himself? Yep, definitely my worst day so far. Not to mention the fact that I should have been home by now. Good heavens, my life is messed up._


	7. Arguments

**Chapter 7**

**Arguments**

 

_Do you remember, Cathy, that one time when you caught Thorin and me in the very middle of a minor disagreement about a subject I have long since forgotten? You were only five or six years old, coming over to our room late at night because you were unable to sleep. I remember very well that you were a little scared when you heard us talk in raised voices, using phrases like ‘headstrong woman’ and ‘right royal imbecile’. I explained to you that it was only a disagreement and not a fight, after which you made us swear that we had never really fought, nor would we ever do it in future._

_I can honestly say we have upheld the second part of that promise. As for the first part, well, back then it was still early days and after that argument on the cliff we fought at least three times a day, probably more. We disagreed on everything two people can possibly disagree on and we never hesitated to voice those opinions either. In the end we had almost come to a point where I would have disagreed with him if he told me it was raining, even as it was soaking me._

_Fortunately, it never actually came to that (for which I am eternally grateful), but we came close, very close. And the day Gandalf and Thorin got into an argument was no exception…_

 

The sun was already starting to set by the time they came upon the first spot that might serve as a camping place. Most of the members of the company’s moods were bordering on grumpy because of exhaustion. Thorin would not deny that he had forced them to maintain a pace that was faster than the woman and the hobbit could deal with. It even was hard on some of the other, older members. But Thorin didn’t care. Before he had let himself be led by the need to go easy on the two unwelcome additions to the company, but ever since that argument he had with Miss Andrews – he refused to call her by her first name, because that might imply that they liked each other, which they didn’t – he had thrown that attitude out of the window. He had not gone on this quest to be nice to stray hobbits and human women. He had gone on this quest to reclaim his homeland and reclaim it he would, rather sooner than later.

This place had some kind of clearing in front of a ruined house. By the looks of it, it was a bit burned, but that could have all kinds of reasons. He was quite sure no one had been living here for quite some time, so it should be safe as a camping ground.

‘We’ll camp here for the night,’ he decided.

He began issuing orders to the rest of the company, even as Gandalf went to explore the ruined house. The company dismounted, making camp as if they hadn’t been doing anything else all their lives. Loath as he was to admit it, both the woman and the hobbit went about their chores without complaint, making themselves useful. The rest of the company actually seemed to have accepted their presence. Some of them obviously still disagreed about the need of their presence, as did Thorin, but they didn’t shun them either. Balin relieved a pony of his luggage as Bilbo kept the animal in place and Kate and Bofur were getting a fire going, laughing over some joke Fíli had just made.

Troublesome woman. If he was really honest Thorin had to admit she hadn’t lied when she had told them she could survive in the wild and she was even taking fighting lessons, given by several members of the company. Her efforts were laughable, but an effort she did make. And he didn’t like it, not at all, not when he would like nothing more than for her to be a complete failure so that he had a good reason for sending her away. Yet for one reason she was determined not to give him one. He had no clue as to what her motives were, but he strongly suspected her to be doing it only to annoy him. And if that was the case, she was definitely succeeding.

The company was completely at ease, joking, laughing even, as they built up the camp. Now that they were done traveling for the day, energy seemed to return to them. If Thorin knew them at all they would make some music and tell stories around the fire tonight to pass the time. Normally he would love that himself, but not now. Ever since the quest had started he had found that he was too restless to participate in such frivolities. So now he spent the nights on his own, planning and thinking about the kingdom he had lost. Thinking about Erebor kept his mind on the task ahead. It helped him to focus, to see the bigger picture.

He was pondering this as he heard Gandalf mutter to himself. ‘A farmer and his family used to live here,’ the wizard said.

Something in his voice told Thorin that there was something the matter. He made for the house, giving Gandalf a quizzical look.

‘I think it would be wiser to move on,’ Gandalf answered the unspoken question of what was going on. He threw in his own idea as to where they should be going directly afterwards. ‘We could make for the hidden valley.’

Thorin frowned. How long had he been waiting to make that suggestion? The tone in his voice betrayed that he had been thinking about this before and that he had wanted them to go there from the first moment. He had already been playing at it back in the Shire.

‘I have told you already: I will _not_ go near that place,’ he snarled at the wizard. And Gandalf would do well to remember that.

‘Why not?’ If Thorin hadn’t known better, he’d have said that the wizard was genuinely surprised at that answer. ‘The elves could help us! We could get food, rest, advice!’

That answer was so ridiculous that he might have laughed at it, had the situation not been that serious. Help, from the elves? When had the elves ever helped him, or his kin? All they were good for was standing by, watching, as other people, _his_ people, suffered. ‘I do not need their advice,’ he snapped at the taller man. He had thought it before, and now he thought it again: Gandalf was trying to gain leadership over this quest. He had no idea why and he had no idea how it had come so far already, but he had just about enough of it. Yes, he appreciated the wizard’s help on the journey and he would never claim that they didn’t need him, but that didn’t mean he could call the shots around here. Thorin was still the one in charge and he got the feeling Gandalf conveniently overlooked that fact whenever it suited him.

‘We have a map that we cannot read,’ the wizard pointed out. ‘Lord Elrond could help us.’

That may be true, but Thorin refused to believe that Lord Elrond was the only one who knew how to read that map. And his own point still stood: he would not for the life of him go willingly to an elven settlement. There was just too much history between their two races for him to be comfortable with that.

‘Help?’ he repeated in a tone that anyone who knew him would describe as dangerous. ‘A dragon attacked Erebor and what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls and the elves looked on and did nothing!’

Every time he thought about that, it hurt again as fierce as if it had happened only yesterday. A more rational part of his mind said that no one in his senses could have expected of them to ride with them into battle against a dragon, but they could have offered them food and shelter after the attack. His people had been driven from their home with what few possessions they had been able to grab before disaster struck. They had been left homeless, with nowhere to go, with hardly any food or water. The elves had been there, had looked upon them as they fled from the dragon’s anger. They could have offered them hospitality, help in finding a new place to live. They could have treated the wounded, fed the hungry and offered them protection for a while. Instead they had watched and then turned away as he had called out to them, begging them for their help. And for that betrayal Thorin wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive them.

He walked at Gandalf, the anger all renewed. ‘You would ask me to seek out the help of the very people who betrayed my grandfather, who betrayed my father?’ Gandalf must be insane to even think it.

The wizard looked at him with something that might be described as a mix between pity and irritation. ‘You are neither of them.’

_No, but they were my kin and I was there when the elves abandoned us._

‘I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.’ The irritation in Gandalf’s voice won out. The words were snappy and impatient, as if Thorin was some kind of stubborn child he needed to lecture.

His temper, that had already arrived at an all-time low, now snapped completely. ‘I did not know that they were yours to keep!’ Those objects had belonged to his people and only Durin knew what that meddling wizard had done with them in the many years that he had been “safekeeping” them.

The wizard’s irritation got the better of him. He shot Thorin an impatient look and then turned on his heels, literally marching away.

‘Everything all right?’ the hobbit asked, which sounded like a rather stupid question to the dwarf king. ‘Gandalf, where are you going?’ There was a sense of fear in his tone.

‘Seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense.’ That tone was easier to explain than the hobbit’s. The wizard was furious.

‘And who’s that?’ Mr Baggins wondered, confused.

‘Myself, Mr Baggins!’ Gandalf didn’t even turn around to look at them. ‘I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.’

 _And I have had enough of wizards._ Deciding not to pay the incident any more mind, he called over to Bombur to prepare them some supper, before turning and looking for a quiet spot in the ruined house that would give him some privacy. The roof wouldn’t do much to stop any rain, but the weather had been bright for days and he didn’t think that was about to change anytime soon.

‘Mr Oakenshield?’ The only female voice around here was the thing that pulled him from his musing in the end.

He looked up at her, realising more time than he had thought had passed. The light was fading now, colouring the sky above his head in reds and purples. Miss Andrews had come in, holding his steaming dinner in one hand and a mug of ale in the other.

‘Miss Andrews,’ he acknowledged. ‘You can put that on the ground.’ _And then you can clear out as fast as you can._

Of course he should have known that he wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. ‘I’m not your servant,’ she told him indignantly, putting his dinner on the ground nonetheless. Thorin knew for a fact that she disliked being in his company as much as he disliked being in hers.

He glared at her. ‘Was there something else or are you done?’ he inquired with every impression of being utterly bored.

He regretted that question the very next second. She had already half turned away from him, but she stopped and came back as soon as he spoke. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, there is something I’d like to discuss.’

Would it be too late to ask her to leave?

It definitely was. ‘I agree with Gandalf,’ she told him, arms folded across her chest as if she was bracing herself for his imminent wrath. But yet she remained where she was, obviously determined to get it off her chest. ‘We shouldn’t be lingering here.’

He felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. ‘Are you telling me we should seek refuge with the elves as well?’ he demanded, his dislike of her growing by the second.

‘I am saying no such thing,’ she told him. ‘I’m only saying we shouldn’t linger here. If you really want to know, I think we should move right now, before we can run into trouble.’ Something had definitely unsettled her, even Thorin could see that and he silently cursed that wizard’s ability to make people worry over nothing.

‘Are you siding with Gandalf?’ It seemed unlikely, but stranger things had happened. And the wizard was after all her only chance to ever get back to her own world again. No matter how much she disliked that man, she would probably not want to turn him against her, not with him being what she had called her return-ticket.

Her eyes now narrowed as well, but not in suspicion. It was anger, he realised. ‘Yes, you pig-headed buffoon,’ she hissed, bending over and keeping her voice low as to not alert the others of their umpteenth argument of the week. ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing. And if you had an ounce of brains underneath all that hair, so would you! Do you think this house was ruined all on its own?’

He was used to her insults by now. Pig-headed buffoon wasn’t even original anymore and her insulting his intelligence was no news either. It were her last words that made the tiniest bit of sense. ‘It could have been a house fire,’ he replied in as condescending a voice as he could manage.

Kate pointed at the roof that looked like it had been smashed to pieces. ‘That doesn’t look like a fire to me,’ she said. ‘Listen, I know this place is bad. It’s in the bloody story.’ She seemed frustrated now, throwing her hands in the air, clearly searching for the right words. ‘I don’t know how to explain it and I know it sounds… well, _creepy_ is the word, I guess, but I recognise this place.’ He corrected himself. She wasn’t frustrated, she was anxious.

That did however not mean he believed a word she said, especially not now that she had brought the dreaded book into the conversation. He glared at her again. ‘I will not let my actions be guided by some book from another world,’ he snarled at her. He didn’t remember jumping to his feet, but when he checked again, he had.

‘Then why do you even keep me around?’ she demanded. ‘Last time we had an argument about this subject you seemed to think that that book was awfully accurate. You _know_ I am right about this.’

She shouldn’t have said that last sentence. What little willingness to at least listen to what she had to say there had been, it vanished immediately. ‘I know nothing about that book,’ he growled at her. ‘And I don’t want to hear another word about it. Not now, not ever, do you understand?’

Her eyes were sparking with rage and defiance. ‘Or what?’ she demanded, an obvious challenge.

‘Or I’ll leave you on the spot and let you worry about how you will ever get home again.’ He knew that was unfair, but he could not care less. Part of him, a rather big part to be honest, yearned to make good on that threat right here and now.

She staggered back as if he had physically hit her, the anger instantly replaced with intense fear. He had found her weak spot. Kate swallowed visibly, trying to regain some control over herself, but Thorin didn’t exactly make it any easier on her, staring at her with the iciest look he could manage.

In the end she recovered herself. She straightened her back, lifted her head and shot him a look of the utmost contempt. ‘Fine,’ she snapped in that all too familiar tone. ‘If it’s your life ambition to get caught by a bunch of hungry trolls, that’s all up to you. Just don’t come running to me when you get into trouble.’ She marched out before he had the chance to react.

Thorin sat himself down again and began to eat, allowing a small smirk to grace his features. Running to her to solve his problems? Over his dead body!

 

***

 

Kate sat herself down near the campfire, silently accepting a bowl of stew from Bombur. The rest of the group was cheerful, despite Gandalf’s sudden departure, and were joking and laughing as if nothing was the matter. And at that very moment, nothing was wrong yet, not for them anyway.

Kate ate her stew in silence, pondering over the absurdity of the situation. This was the first time she could have really made use of the knowledge she had of the story. The point was that Gandalf had never really explained to her what her task was. She had been introduced as some kind of advisor, but even that remained incredibly vague to her. What was she supposed to be advising them about?

She thought that she had done well in warning Thorin about the danger the trolls represented, even though she might have put it not as eloquently as she had intended. But she had informed him and he had told her in no uncertain terms that she should keep her mouth shut. It was up to him now whether he would act on the information he had. Kate was currently too pissed off to really care about the trolls anyway. And even then, she knew they would survive the incident, so she would not put up a big fight about something like this. She would just stay far away from those monstrous creatures.

Her mind inevitably drifted back to home and the familiar worry about what happened back there. By now there would be a search for her, leaving her family worried. Maybe even her grumpy boss would feel slightly concerned. She smiled a bit as she tried to imagine Harold Eastwood being concerned for anyone. As far as she knew the only thing he was concerned about was the fact that she wasn’t there to do her job. Her personal wellbeing was not of any interest to him.

‘I’d like to hear a story,’ one of the dwarves announced. It was dark, so she couldn’t see it all that well, but she thought it may have been Dori.

There was some muttered agreement around the fire, followed by a ‘Don’t you know any good tales, lass?’ from Bofur.

Kate produced an apologetic smile. ‘I’m not really the storytelling type, I’m afraid.’

For a moment he seemed disappointed, but then a smile lit up his face. ‘You can tell us something about yourself,’ he proposed. ‘You know everything there is to know about us, but you haven’t really told us something about you, apart from how you got that scar on your neck.’

He was right, and she knew it. Thinking about home was painful at the very least, so she had smothered every attempt the dwarves had made to get her to talk about herself, all the while learning about them, their personalities and their histories. Come to think of that, it was unfair that they did all the sharing while she behaved like a stubborn oyster, refusing to share her stories.

She decided to be honest. ‘I’d rather not,’ she confessed. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll ever be home again and it hurts to think about them. Right now, they’re probably worried sick for me and I just can’t stand that thought!’ A few treacherous tears were close to spilling over.

Balin, seated somewhere to her right, leaned over Bifur to pat her knee, the only part he could reach. ‘Maybe it helps to talk about it. Share the load with us.’

‘I seriously doubt you’d want that. After all, I am only a burden to this company.’ The words came spilling out of her mouth without thinking, the frustration over the conversation with Thorin still present in her mind. He had made it more than clear what he thought about her.

Of course it was Balin that understood exactly what she was talking about. ‘Now don’t get us mixed up, lassie. And Thorin doesn’t mean it like that. The lad has a lot on his mind right now.’

There was again some muttered agreement.

Kate frowned. ‘If you say so,’ she said, unconvinced, but deciding to drop the subject. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

At least the dwarves seemed reassured. ‘So, tell us something,’ Ori said.

She sighed and then gave in. Knowing them as she did, she knew they were unlikely to back off now. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Do you have siblings?’ Bofur asked.

 _Let the interrogation begin_ , she thought sarcastically before answering. ‘Only one, a brother. His name’s Jacko and he’s my twin. But we don’t look anything alike at all.’ Somehow Balin’s advice had been spot on. It did help to talk, to remember the good things, not just the bad. ‘I don’t really see him much these days. He’s busy trying to make career as a politician, so he lives on the other side of the country now.’

This inevitably led to further questions about politics in her world and Kate answered them as best as she could. Talking did help to pass the time and gradually Thorin’s anger at her and the troll problem disappeared to the back of her mind.

‘So, what about your parents?’ Balin asked at some time. ‘Are they still alive?’

‘Yes, although I don’t really see my father anymore,’ she replied, determined not to waste too many words on that subject. The less said about John Andrews, the better. ‘I used to live with my mother until two years ago. Now I’ve got a place of my own, sharing it with a close friend, but I still see her a lot.’

At this, people frowned. ‘Your parents don’t live together?’ Glóin asked.

 _Divorce must not be a common thing around here_ , she observed. ‘No, not anymore,’ she replied truthfully. ‘My dad’s a jerk. He cheated on my mother a lot, so in the end she kicked him out. That was about ten years ago. I haven’t really seen him much since.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s all there is to it, really. No big deal.’ Of course, it was a big deal. For years she had struggled with her anger and the never answered question of how her dad had been capable of doing that to them. But her anger had apparently failed to affect him and in the end he had all but disappeared off the radar altogether. As a matter of fact she didn’t even know where he lived these days and with a shock she realised that she could no longer really care about it either.

By the looks of things, she had shocked them. The company stared at her, even those that had still not really accepted her presence. And oh dear, did she hate those looks. She had seen them too many times already.

‘And you can stop looking at me like that!’ she snapped, louder than had been necessary. ‘I’m not some sad stray puppy. Believe it or not, where I come from, this is almost normal.’ As unfortunate and unfair as it may be. ‘I can handle it and to be quite honest, it is none of your business.’ She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, almost as if to protect herself.

She was quite sure they would have gone on about it until they knew every detail of that story – they were nosy dwarves after all – but fortunately, or perhaps not so fortunately, Fíli came and saved her from them. The king’s nephew came storming into the camp, looking positively horrified.

‘What’s the matter, lad?’ Dwalin asked, already on his feet.

‘Trolls,’ Fíli replied. ‘They stole a few of the ponies and now Mr Baggins is going to try and steal them back.’

Kate moaned, but everyone was too angry and busy to notice.

‘Where are they?’ Kate hadn’t noticed when Thorin had joined them, but when she looked over her shoulder he was standing only half a metre behind her. He looked determined and far too calm for the situation. Sometimes she wondered if he somehow had ice water instead of blood in his veins. Even his anger felt like ice.

‘Just on the other end of the trees,’ Fíli reported, his uncle’s calm determination seeming to help him to calm down as well. ‘Kíli stayed behind to keep an eye on the burglar.’

Thorin didn’t even need to give orders. The company was already on their feet, but Kate was unsure of what to do. She didn’t fancy a run-in with a bunch of hungry trolls, even while she knew from the story that she would live to tell the tale, but on the other hand it might reflect badly on her if she stayed behind now. The company would most likely interpret it as cowardice. And there wasn’t any real danger, she told herself. If she wanted to be accepted by these dwarves, it would seem she had to make an effort.

But the decision wasn’t up to her. Kate had half risen, when someone grabbed her arm. She turned around and found herself face to face with an angry Thorin. But since that seemed to be his default setting, she wasn’t surprised. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he hissed at her.

Her anger, that had been dormant while she had been talking with the company, flared back to life. ‘Going for a late night swim in the river,’ she replied sarcastically.

The sarcasm only served to enrage him further. ‘You are not going anywhere,’ he told her. ‘I will not have you get in our way.’

While this was a good assessment of her usefulness in a fight, the words were spoken in such a condescending tone that Kate couldn’t help but react. ‘I am trying to help you!’ she protested. Ugh, why could she never have a conversation with this dwarf that didn’t result in her wanting to hit him?

‘You won’t help us by being there.’ The tone in his voice made it quite clear that this was not up for discussion. ‘So, you’ll stay here and make yourself useful in our absence.’

‘Fine!’ she snapped. ‘Have fun with your trolls then. But don’t expect me to come to the rescue when you get yourself caught.’

His eyes narrowed. He too must remember they had been discussing, or well arguing was the better word, over this only an hour or two ago. And he must be realising that she had spoken the truth about the trolls. But if she understood him at all, he would rather be eaten by those monsters than admit that.

‘Stay here,’ he repeated and then he let go of her, beckoning his men to follow him.

‘See you after dawn!’ she yelled at his retreating back, unable to keep herself from saying something.

The nerve of that man was really unbelievable. What was his problem with her and the book anyway? If he had half a brain he must realise that this book could be a blessing. It would help them cope with the problems ahead, because they would know about them before they occurred. They might even be able to avoid some of the problems in their entirety.

Kate sat herself at the campfire, trying to distract herself, but somehow her thoughts kept wandering back to the company. Would they already have been captured? Would they really be all right?

 _Of course they are_ , she told herself firmly. _You know the story. They’ll be just fine._

But she discovered that night that there was a great difference between knowing and seeing things for herself. With her head she knew that they would not be having the time of their lives right now, but they would be all right. Bilbo would stall for time and then Gandalf would come to the rescue and everyone would be just fine.

But that was her head. Her heart was worrying to such an extent that at a certain moment she had trouble thinking about anything else. She told herself that was ridiculous. More than half of the company didn’t even like her. As far as she knew she didn’t even count as a real member. But then, they had been concerned for her when she had mentioned her family situation and she didn’t believe that had been an act. And what if the trolls didn’t do what they were supposed to do in the story? What if they were really hungry? What if Bilbo failed to distract them? What if they were already dead?

The scenarios playing out in her head got all the more horrible as time passed, effectively blocking out the voice of reason and she started to feel bad about herself. What was she even doing here? She should be helping them, doing something, _anything_ , not sitting here and warm her feet by the fire!

‘Oh, bugger those dwarves!’ she hissed, angry at herself as well as them. The restlessness won out and she got to her feet.

Someone had left a sword at the fire and she had a pocket knife stuffed away in her bag. She grabbed both and then went after the company, keeping up a sotto voce stream of curses as she did so, unable to decide who she was more angry with: the dwarves, Gandalf or herself. But sitting back and waiting for things to work themselves out wasn’t really an option either, no matter how much she might want that. She just wasn’t at ease knowing her friends were in trouble.

 _Hang on a second, did I just refer to them as friends?_ That thought stopped her dead in her tracks. They weren’t friends. Oh, well, who was she fooling? Some of them were. Kíli and Fíli had always been perfectly friendly in their behaviour and the same was true for Ori. Balin had treated her as if she was a younger family member and even the others had been polite at the very least. _Shit, the only one to treat me like garbage is that arrogant excuse for a king_.

This thought wasn’t particularly helpful, at all. It only succeeded in ruling out every thought she might still have entertained about going back.

‘Well done, girl,’ Kate complimented herself sarcastically. ‘You let them get close and now you even bloody care for them!’

And when on earth had that happened? True, she had been trying to get them to see her as an useful addition to the party, but at the same time she had been trying to keep her distance. It may not have been intentional, but she had done it all the same, because her main concern was getting home. And that was still on the top of her list of priorities, but clearly it didn’t mean that she couldn’t help these dwarves while she was at it.

‘What a freaking mess,’ she muttered for the umpteenth time since she had arrived as she started to make her way through the bushes. She could see the light in the distance and hear voices.

 _What on earth did I get myself into?_ She had been asking herself that question more than once since this adventure had started and doubtlessly she would ask it again countless more times.

She sneaked closer, her hand gripping the sword so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Common sense tried to tell her that this was a bad idea, a very bad idea, but she blocked it out. Since when had she listened to that anyway?

For a moment she feared that the trolls might see her as she sneaked into their camp, taking care to stay away from the light and behind trees and bushes as much as she could, but she shouldn’t have bothered. The monsters had concerns of a completely different nature. As Kate had already feared they were far too busy preparing dinner, consisting of dwarf-and-hobbit-in-sack.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notebook: _I am having an I-told-you-so-experience here._

 


	8. Reckless

**Chapter 8**

**Reckless**

 

_It should not have come as a surprise to me to find my companions either on a spit over the fire or tied up in sacks thrown in a heap on the ground, and it wasn’t. Maybe I had been hoping for another outcome, but I had not been expecting it._

_The real question was: what to do next? If the story was right, then everything would work itself out in the end without my interference. Deep down I knew that it would. Probably. It was that small chance that maybe this would not turn out as fine as I hoped that urged me into staying, even though it was not clear to me yet what I had to do, that was if I had to do anything at all._

_And so I waited…_

 

This had been a bad idea.

It was a bit of a shame that this thought only occurred to Thorin when he had already been tied up, put into a sack, waiting to be cooked by the very monsters that troublesome woman had warned him about. But he was trying not to think about that at the moment. If he would get out of this alive, then doubtlessly she would rub it in until he had to admit that she had spoken the truth.

But the survival part of that scenario didn’t seem all that likely now. He was pretty sure those trolls were about to cook them all, he had no idea where Gandalf was and he himself had been the one to order Kate to remain in the camp. There would be no help coming and he wasn’t in the position to do anything useful at all.

He didn’t think he had ever been so helpless in his entire life. Even when Smaug had taken Erebor, he had a sword in his hand. Now his sword lay on the big pile of weapons on the other side of the fire.

No, this was definitely the worst luck he had ever had. A small voice in the back of his head wondered what Kate’s book would have to say on the matter. If that wasn’t proving how desperate things were, he wouldn’t know what would. For the past weeks he had carefully avoided thinking about that book, afraid of its contents. Hoping to avoid it from coming true he had forced it to the back of his mind.

But of course it would choose this very moment to get into his head again. Stranger than that even, he welcomed it, because Kate had never mentioned that the trolls were going to eat them. In fact he recalled her saying something along the lines of seeing them all after dawn.

Dawn, of course. It couldn’t be too far off now, if he had reckoned right. The storytelling at the campfire must have gone on until well after midnight and since it wouldn’t be too long before summer would arrive, the days were long. Dusk came late and dawn came early. If only they could stall for more time… But since he had actually no idea how to do that, they were back at square one.

But he was Thorin Oakenshield and he would not go down without a fight. It was below him. There had to be _something_ he could do.

He hadn’t even finished that thought when he saw it: a pair of eyes looking into the trolls’ camp from a safe hiding place. They were taking in the situation, studying every detail with an intense stare. At first he had no idea who that person was. None of his men was unaccounted for and as far as he knew there weren’t many people traveling the wild besides them, except maybe a few rangers, but they usually stayed away from trolls. It was just his company that was stupid enough to literally run into those monsters.

Then he saw the fire reflected on a mass of reddish brown curls as the person they belonged to shifted and he knew her: Kate. He shouldn’t be surprised to find that she had once again completely disregarded his orders and had followed them. But part of him, and he was as of yet unsure as to how big that part actually was, was idiotically glad to learn of her presence here.

She glanced in his direction and caught his gaze. For a moment she seemed panicked, but then she crawled a little forward so he could see the rest of her face. Unfortunately, if the trolls turned around, they would be seeing her as well. She was painfully exposed and clearly totally unaware of it.

The question as to what she had to do was clear as daylight on her face. Thorin didn’t have much of an idea either, so he settled for a mouthed: ‘Get here.’ The order was strengthened by some movements of his head – the only part of his body that he was currently able to move – as he first looked at her and then jerked his head backward, the equivalent of beckoning someone closer with their finger.

The puzzled look on her face told him she had no clue as to what in Durin’s name he was trying to convey. ‘What. The. Hell?’ she mouthed back at him. His lip-reading wasn’t spectacular, but he had come to know her favourite phrases quite well and he had the added bonus of knowing exactly what the look on her face meant.

So he repeated the gesture, taking care that none of the trolls saw it, and repeated, slowly this time: ‘Get. Here.’

This time she did understand. It didn’t mean that she was happy about it, though. Her eyes were full of disbelief first, but when she realised that he meant it, they turned rather angry. She mouthed something at him, what exactly he could not see, because it was both too fast and too long. Thorin imagined it to be something like ‘Are you trying to get me killed?’ or, slightly more probable, ‘Are you out of your bloody mind?’ though.

‘Get. Here,’ he repeated.

She threw him another incredulous look. ‘How?’

This long distance communication was far less reliable than Thorin would have liked. But then, so was Kate’s help. He had witnessed her fighting lessons and he wasn’t convinced she could even harm someone when she tried, let alone take on three monstrous mountain trolls. But right now, the human woman was also the only option they had and he wasn’t too proud to go ahead and take the offered help. Beggars can’t be choosers after all.

He made a motion that meant _go round the camp by that way and stay out of sight_ , but since that wasn’t going to do the job all on its own he added an ‘Go. Round.’ for good measure.

This time he did catch the answer. ‘You. Have. Got. To. Be. _Joking_.’

 _No, I’m not. Now get a move on_. Of course she would never understand it when he said that. Talking in one word sentences seemed to be the only way to get a message across at the moment. ‘Get. Here,’ he repeated once more. He was all too aware that his men, the men he was personally responsible for, were being roasted on a spit as they were talking. Kate was being obstructive and uncooperative. Thorin had known for a while that she cared nothing about them, him least of all, but he didn’t think she could leave them at the trolls’ mercy either. Her very being her proved that.

The look in her eyes told her she wished him a slow and painful death, but she began to make her way to him nonetheless, using the bushes for cover. The trolls were too busy arguing about the best ways to cook dwarf and were therefore too preoccupied to notice the small human woman sneaking around their camp. And his own companions were too preoccupied by their horrible situation to have even noticed the arrival of the fifteenth company member.

It was for the first time that Thorin started to feel something that approached respect for her. Kate had not lied to them when she had said she knew how to survive in the wild. She was quiet, quick and took care to avoid snapping twigs as she moved. In this situation the dwarf king didn’t think the trolls would hear her, but it was wise to be careful.

‘What on earth did you think you’re doing?’ came a low hiss from his left.

‘I could ask the same of you.’ He turned his head in her direction, glancing back at his captors every few seconds. He lay some small distance away from the rest of the group, far enough it would seem not to distract them from their loud protests and vain attempts to wriggle free.

She huffed. ‘You didn’t think I could actually sit there and warm my feet by the fire knowing you lot were about to be turned into trolls’ dinner, did you?’

As a matter of fact he would not have put it past her. ‘Didn’t you say something about seeing us all after dawn?’ he demanded, not responding to her question.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Now don’t tell me you suddenly believe me.’

He fixed her with his sternest glare.

‘Fine,’ she muttered. ‘According to both versions of the tale Gandalf should be here in time. Right now the events seem to be following the movie. So if Bilbo can keep them talking, we should be all right.’

His mind effortlessly registered the most important word in that speech. ‘ _Should_?’ he hissed. ‘Aren’t you sure?’

‘No, I’m not,’ she admitted, not meeting his eyes. ‘Remember that night at the cliff, when we had that massive fight?’ He nodded – how could he forget? – and she went on: ‘You were meant to strut back into the camp after Balin’s tale, but you didn’t. I don’t think the real events always follow the story, not to the letter anyway.’

This didn’t do anything to improve his mood, or their chances for that matter, at all. ‘Do you mean we could get eaten before help arrives?’

Kate’s lips were only a thin, disapproving line as she shot him a dark look. ‘What does that make of me, I wonder?’ she said under her breath. She continued, a little louder: ‘What would you have me do then?’

Thorin risked another glance at the trolls, but they were still not looking at them. Quite frankly, he didn’t have much of a plan. There was one slowly forming in the back of his mind, but time was running out. As much as he hated this, he might be dependent on Kate’s help and maybe even her knowledge. ‘Should I not be asking you that question?’ The words had left his mouth before he had really thought about them.

Her eyebrows shot up again. ‘Are you asking me to use my knowledge of the story?’

‘Yes,’ he hissed back at her. He hated to say the word, but he’d be damned if he let his pride get in the way of their rescue. He was responsible for this company and their lives were worth more than his pride. He would swallow it if there was any chance of this woman and her book getting them out of here.

Kate thought about that for a second and then nodded. ‘Right. Bilbo!’

The call was hushed as to not alert the trolls, but the hobbit had heard her. He looked up and a relieved look appeared in his eyes.

‘Kate!’ That was definitely too loud. The other dwarves in the heap now also turned to look at her.

The woman put a finger against her lips, telling them to be silent. Thorin more or less told them the same thing by sending them a glare that might have killed them on the spot if looks had that power.

‘It’s all right,’ Kate told them. ‘I’m going to try and get you out, but I need you, Bilbo, to distract those ugly bastards over there for a while.’

Bilbo shot her a quizzical look. ‘How do I do that?’

Kate’s face looked like she wished him a slow and painful death. ‘Think of something,’ she snapped. ‘Keep them busy about the best ways to cook a dwarf. That’ll keep that lot interested.’ She shot him another irritated look. ‘Oh, and the secret to cooking dwarf is to eat them hairless. Tell them the hair makes the danger of choking all that much greater. It would be a great idea to shave them first.’

Mr Baggins looked positively scared out of his mind, but at least he got up and hopped over into the line of sight of the trolls.

Thorin turned his back on Kate. ‘Cut the sack open from behind,’ he instructed her. That way the trolls wouldn’t notice that something was amiss right away, even if they did look at them. What’s more was that his body shielded Kate from sight. Those beasts wouldn’t know she was there.

‘Will do,’ she replied. For once she apparently didn’t feel the need to argue and for that he was glad. Now that they had a huge crisis to face they seemed to have some kind of truce, but Thorin had no illusions about the length of it. As soon as they were out of danger, they would continue as before, because nothing had really changed between them.

Thorin could feel her carefully cutting open the sack from behind and he tried not to think about the fact that her knife was awfully close to his neck right now. It was not that he really believed her capable of murdering him, but things were bad enough between them for him not to be comfortable with her holding a knife so close to his person.

To distract himself, he asked her a question. ‘Why is the secret to cooking dwarf to shave them?’ he demanded. He didn’t think she was trying to humiliate them all, not really. She would be unaware of their customs, wouldn’t know that being hairless was rather shameful for one of their race. That was what he thought at least. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious about it.

Kate was working her way down the length of his back now. ‘It sounded like a better idea than what Bilbo came up with in the story,’ she answered. ‘He thought that skinning the lot of you was the best way. I thought I’d better provide him with a less harmful alternative.’

The sack was cut open down to his waist now, and since he was sitting, she could go no further. So, she moved the knife. First he had no idea where it had gone, but then he felt the cold steel at his wrists. ‘What are you doing, woman?’ he growled.

The reply was a snort, followed by the cutting of the bonds around his wrists. ‘Murdering you in cold blood,’ came the sarcastic spoken reply. ‘With a bit of luck Bilbo can convince them of the shaving plan,’ she added as an afterthought.

Thorin, now getting out of the sack as inconspicuously as he could, turned to face her, a frown in his forehead. ‘Why would you want that?’ he questioned. Could it be that she had somehow learned how humiliating that could be? He had believed that she had at least started to take some liking to the rest of the company, even if she hated him, but it would seem that he had been wrong about that.

A smirk graced her features and she shrugged. ‘Well, to shave them, they need to remove them,’ a head gesture in the direction of the fire and the spit above it, ‘from the spit first. Who knows, they may even need to untie them.’ If she had heard Thorin’s wariness at all, she didn’t show it.

Grudgingly he had to admit that her plan was not as ridiculous or stupid as he had first thought. If she had been any other than who she was, he might even have told her so, might even have admired her for thinking up the plan that might just save them all. Because, to be quite honest, he was not going to let it all come down to whether or not Gandalf would show up in time. Kate seemed to think that he would, but Thorin Oakenshield had not stayed alive as long as he had by being a fool. Her certainty was nothing but a mask. She wasn’t so sure of her precious story as she would like to make him believe.

And neither was he. Dawn was still an hour away, at the very least, and all of them could be dead by then if they didn’t do something about it. They might still die, no matter what, but he would go down fighting.

Kate cut open the sack of the dwarf nearest to them, which happened to be Balin. She then turned back to Thorin. ‘What now?’ she hissed.

Thorin glanced around. Mr Baggins was keeping the trolls occupied by his not too bad explanation as to why it would be a bad idea to eat dwarves with hair, but the dwarf king had no doubt that would not be sufficient for long.

An idea crept to the forefront of his mind…

 

***

 

This was a bad idea. Kate had known that from the very beginning, yet here she was, sneaking past some giant trolls in order to get her hands on the company’s weapons. Thorin was right behind her, covering her back. Or that was what she liked to think anyway. Maybe it was her front that needed covering and was he using her as some kind of shield.

No matter which way you looked at it, she felt painfully exposed. A big part of her was already wishing she had just stayed in the camp, waiting for dawn to arrive. The prospect started to look more tempting with each passing second.

But then, leaving now was no longer an option. She had lost that possibility when she had left camp, against Thorin’s orders. And of course it had only gotten worse since then. Releasing Thorin and giving her knife to the others so they could get away too, that had not been so bad. It was Thorin’s idea of what should happen next that was the problem.

‘You are insane,’ she hissed at him for the umpteenth time in ten minutes. They were sneaking around the camp as she said this.

He met her glare with perfect icy indifference. ‘I will not wait for a wizard who might not even show up,’ he told her. ‘Or do you now suggest I leave my men at the mercy of these monsters?’

It was more of a challenge than a real question and her impulsive side couldn’t help but respond to it. ‘Of course not!’ she snapped, a little too loud perhaps.

In this case she really meant it, but this side of her had gotten her into trouble more than once. It was her flaw, she knew it, one that might well prove fatal one day. Once a challenge was put to her, she couldn’t refuse, eager, almost desperate, to prove that she could keep up with the best of them. Thorin might as well have been suggesting she’d dance the tango in front of those trolls to distract them and she’d have agreed to do it. She would have regretted it the next second, but that was not the point. Fortunately for her, that was a part of her character he had not yet discovered.

‘I’m not as heartless as you make me out to be,’ she added in an angry whisper.

He at least had the decency to look a little ashamed, if only a little. It was apparently a part of the Oakenshield code not to show too much emotion. The man was a riddle wrapped up in a mystery, almost impossible to read. The only thing that was clear was that he absolutely loathed her. And part of her didn’t understand his behaviour. Unreadable though he might be, one thing had been a constant thing these last few weeks: his complete and utter dislike of her. But now he behaved as if he suddenly thought she could be a valuable addition to the party. There was a kind of unspoken truce between them for the moment. No doubt he would go back to conveniently loathing her as soon as the crisis was over.

‘I still think you’re insane,’ she told him for good measure.

Thorin’s brilliant plan, if brilliant was the word that could be used for such a suicidal scheme, was to get their hands on some weapons, then get two ponies and ride them as far away from this wretched camp, leading the trolls on a merry hunt, while their companions freed themselves in their absence.

In Kate’s opinion there was a number of things terribly wrong with this plan. First, the trolls might not fall for it or they might simply think Thorin and Kate didn’t really matter, second, there was just no way their ponies could outrun these creatures and three, they needed to get to the ponies first without being seen. All in all, Kate thought the plan more than a little reckless. She hadn’t taken Thorin for a reckless fool. But then he had given himself and his men up for the life of a hobbit he didn’t even care about and, what’s more, he was planning on taking a huge mountain back from a fire-breathing, almost invincible monster with a company of fifteen persons, half of them not even warriors. Maybe she should not be so quick to dismiss the thought.

‘Can’t we just not go to the weapons first?’ she pleaded. The pile was far too close to the monsters’ cooking fire for her liking.

He fixed her with a stern glare. ‘I do not have my sword,’ he pointed out.

She snorted. ‘Then take mine,’ she snapped irritably.

‘That’s my spare sword,’ he informed her.

‘Then take it,’ she insisted. ‘I’m no good with it anyway.’

The expression on his face told her he wholeheartedly agreed with that statement. But he surprised her by shaking his head. ‘I will not leave you defenceless.’ The tone told her that this was one of those things that was non-negotiable. ‘Stay here. I will go alone.’

With that he left her at the tree they had been hiding behind for the last half-minute, sneaking to the pile on his own. He left her with a lot of questions. Kate had known he could behave like a gentleman if he felt like it, but now was not exactly the time to be noble. And if he was insisting on being noble, then why to her? They had done nothing but fight for the last few weeks, all but biting each other’s heads off. A mystery he was indeed.

Her attention focused on Bilbo, who was keeping the trolls busy still. It would have been comical to see him, tied up in a sack to his neck, all but lecturing trolls on their cooking skills, if this situation had not been so serious.

One of the trolls obviously wasn’t buying it. ‘What do you know about cooking dwarf?’ he demanded.

Fortunately his friend, if trolls were capable of forming bonds of friendship, interrupted and requested Bilbo to go on, promoting him to the number one on Kate’s list of which troll was the most stupid.

‘You can’t reason with them!’ Dori shouted from his uncomfortable spot over the fire. ‘They’re halfwits!’ That seemed a bit exaggerated to Kate. As far as she knew they didn’t have any wits to begin with, let alone that they should be in the possession of as much as _half_ a wit.

Bilbo now looked a bit nervous, but he went on regardless. ‘The secret to cooking dwarf is…’ He seemed to have forgotten what they had agreed upon.

 _If you tell them to skin the dwarves, then I’ll swear to God I’ll put you on that spit myself first chance I get_ , she thought.

‘Yes? Come on!’ one of the trolls urged him impatiently. He leaned over, his face less than a metre away from Bilbo’s, making the hobbit even more jumpy than he already was.

‘I was getting there,’ the hobbit managed to say, looking like he would like to do nothing more than to run for the hills without a second thought. The only thing holding him back probably was the sack. ‘The secret to cooking dwarf is to shave them first!’

‘At least the hobbit does as he is told,’ a soft voice remarked behind her in a very patronising tone.

‘Thorin!’ That was definitely far too loud, but the protests the dwarves made to that suggestion drowned out her surprised shout. ‘Stop doing that!’ she added with a glare that had scared even her brother into shutting up. ‘You’ll scare me to death.’

The dwarf king was wholly unimpressed. ‘That’ll save the trolls the trouble.’

She was about to hit him, shout at him or do something else equally stupid when she realised that he had in fact been joking. Kate knew some warriors felt better if they joked whilst being in a dangerous situation, but she of course had no experience with that whatsoever. Right now, she found it strangely reassuring.

 _As long there’s humour, there’s hope_ , she told herself, managing a wry smile. ‘Very funny,’ she commented. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?’ The sooner this was over, the better she would feel. Why, oh why had she not just trusted in the story and Gandalf?

But she knew that the story was next to no use in this case. Dawn wasn’t even close yet, as it had been in the story. They would need something more than Bilbo’s half coherent chatter to keep the trolls from cooking and eating every single one of them.

Thorin looked slightly puzzled at the unfamiliar expression, but he seemed to understand the general idea of it and that was what counted. He beckoned to the ponies he had already freed while she was keeping an eye on the burglar and she followed him, even as common sense argued the wisdom of that decision. And it would be right to do so, she knew that. Even her most reckless part shied away from doing something this rash.

But there was really no other choice. Somehow she was unable to sit back and do nothing while the others were still in danger. That had become clear the moment she had defied Thorin and had gone after the company she now, against her will, was a part of.

‘Bugger those dwarves,’ she muttered, not for the first time that night, as she climbed on the pony.

‘Ready?’ Thorin asked. He was still his usual charming nothing-can-ever-affect-me-self, sitting on his pony as if he was King under the bloody Mountain already.

‘If you are,’ she shot back with more certainty than she actually felt. _If I die in this, I’ll haunt him for eternity_ , she vowed.

The best way to pull this off was to not think about this. _Just pretend it’s all a dream and that you’ll wake up at the campfire or, better still, home if this goes belly-up_. It was a kind of escapism, and in her opinion therefore equal to cowardice, but at the moment she could not have cared less. It was her way of dealing with this living nightmare and heaven knew she was in need of that.

She didn’t know why she was even doing this. She wasn’t some kind of bloody action heroine. She was useless in a fight, more likely to hurt herself or the pony than the actual target, her horse-riding skills were too few to even mention and she didn’t feel very courageous either. But yet here she was, about to pretend she was an action heroine side by side with the person she hated most. Well, not most; her father had the dubious honour of claiming that spot.

The pony was unsaddled and there were no reins for her to hold onto. So she buried her fingers in the animal’s mane, determined not to let go of them. She knew she was in danger of falling off, but she blocked that thought out as well. It really wouldn’t do to get a full-blown panic attack now.

 _Lives depend on this_ , she told herself sternly. _So stop being such a cry baby here_.

That realisation helped a little. The plan was still reckless, stupid and downright suicidal, but it helped to know that lives depended on it. It also made her realise she had been acting rather selfishly, whereas Thorin was being the noble self-sacrificing king. That made her look even worse.

‘Let’s do this,’ she said. ‘On the count of three?’

The dwarf nodded. ‘One…’

‘Two…’ She allowed herself to believe that the slight tremor in her voice was only because of the night’s chill.

‘Three!’

And the adrenaline kicked in. Kate could feel her heart pounding in her ears, making the rest of the noises sound like coming from a radio on a very low battery, as she galloped into the camp, straight past the trolls. ‘Hey, ugly bastards!’ she heard herself yell. ‘Want to bet you can’t catch me?’

Next to her Thorin was bellowing some kind of battle cry in his own language and then they were out of the camp. Kate had no idea why she was shouting insult at hungry trolls, or where on earth she had found the courage to do so. She decided on blaming the adrenaline.

That seemed to be the culprit for a lot of things she had no other way of explaining for. She felt ridiculously alive and, probably wrongfully, invincible. The thrill of outwitting a bunch of trolls somehow felt completely brilliant, and not dangerous at all.

The pony didn’t seem to share her optimistic attitude. It ran as fast as its legs could carry it, as did Thorin’s pony. The dwarf himself seemed perfectly composed. The only hint that this was not just another day’s march for him was the concentrated look in his eyes and the frown in his forehead.

Then she heard it: the footsteps. Her newfound courage left her the second she realised that they were far too close and far too heavy to be anything else than the trolls. And there were more than one of them, she was almost sure of that. The forest was being torn apart behind them. She could hear trees being broken as if they were nothing more than dry twigs.

The thrill made way for pure unadulterated terror. ‘Faster!’ she screamed.

The pony had no problem whatsoever with complying with that demand. The ears of the animal were lying flat against its skull and Kate could see the white of its eyes. A sideward glance learned her that Thorin wasn’t as calm as he had been, although his expression could better be described as ice-cold hatred than fear. There must be something in the Oakenshield code about not showing fear, because there was just no way he was not just as scared as she was.

While this chase had been the whole point of this scheme, now that it was succeeding Kate found herself wishing she had never agreed to it. She leaned over the neck over her pony, almost willing it to run just a little faster. The trolls were closing in on them if the sound of breaking trees was any indication. She didn’t think she had ever been so afraid in her life. It froze her into place, effectively preventing her from doing anything apart from clinging to her pony for dear life.

And then the pony was gone. One second she was on its back, racing for safety, and the next she was suddenly hovering in mid-air, the only thing preventing her from falling on the ground, that was suddenly several meters below her, a pair of thick fingers, attached to one monstrous troll that looked at her like she was his next meal.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Oh, crap!_


	9. Stone-cold Breakfast

**Chapter 9**

**Stone-cold Breakfast**

 

_If I thought I had been scared already when we were leading the trolls on the hunt, I was sorely mistaken. Being confronted with a troll’s eye roughly the size of my entire face only a metre away from me was more than enough reason to make me almost pass out. I had no idea where Thorin had gone off to, but I could not care less at that particular moment. I was too busy worrying for myself._

_Oh, I can almost see some of your eyebrows shooting up as you read this. I remember you, Thráin, once telling one of your friends that your mother was never afraid of anything, after which you started telling the tale of how I used to kick said troll in the balls. I have no idea who told you the story – although I’m not ruling out your father’s involvement in this one – but let me assure you, there is no truth whatsoever in that story._

_No, I’m afraid it was Thorin who was the real hero here. Well, he was trying to be the hero at least. The moment he had realised that I was no longer where I was supposed to be, he turned his pony, drew his sword and threatened the trolls with dire consequences if they didn’t let me go immediately. This was as noble and brave as it was foolish and useless. The trolls just repeated the trick I knew them to have used before and threatened to have me torn apart if he didn’t put down his weapon. And Thorin, once again, let go of his sword._

_Shit_. That was about the only though Kate was capable of as she was tied to the spit over the trolls’ campfire. _Shit, shit,_ shit _!_

Why on earth had she even agreed to Thorin’s rash plan? No, why had she even considered to go out of the camp to help the dwarves? She should have gone to sleep and then, when she woke in the morning, everyone would be back, telling her the tale of how they had only just managed to avoid being eaten by monstrous trolls and Kate would listen to them and make them breakfast.

 _If only_ , she thought wryly. Deep down she knew that things weren’t that simple. She had no idea what exactly had gone wrong, but something here was definitely thoroughly messed up. Dawn had still not arrived, Gandalf was nowhere to be seen and Kate was by now one hundred percent convinced she would end up as troll’s breakfast.

But at least the plan had worked. The dwarves had gone, with the exception of Bombur who had somehow managed to trip over his own feet and knock himself out cold against a tree trunk. So now it was just the three of them tied over the spit. Bombur, who had still to regain consciousness, had a spot for him alone because he was so fat, but Kate had ended up all but squashed into Thorin in a way many a fanfiction heroine would probably commit a murder for.

‘So, what’s next?’ she hissed at the dwarf, unconsciously blaming him for all the mess they were in. If he had not insisted on that bloody rescue, they could all have been back in the camp by now. Or that was what she told herself anyway. Because how they would have saved the dwarves that had been tied to the spit was something of a mystery to her as well.

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?’ he shot back.

Annoying dwarf. ‘Well, it may have escaped your notice, but I’m tied to the spit right now and I don’t have a weapon anymore.’

‘What does your book say?’ he clarified.

She sighed in defeat. ‘That we wait for Gandalf. But dawn can’t be that far off now, can it?’ She hated to hear the fear in her own voice. It showed in an uncontrollable trembling that Thorin, pressed against her as he was, surely must feel as well. As embarrassing as that was, she couldn’t really bring herself to care. The fear of dying was too strong to allow any other feelings to make themselves known.

‘It isn’t,’ Thorin replied. How he was capable of remaining so calm was beyond her, but she drew some strength from it. The dwarf was not afraid, so maybe there was no reason to.

 _Don’t be a fool_ , some voice in the back of her head commented. _He’s just not that afraid of dying as you are. He has faced it more times than you ever had or ever will._

That did nothing to stop her from trembling like a leaf in a storm. ‘I’m scared.’ The words escaped her mouth before she had given them permission to do so, no doubt triggered by the fact the troll chose that moment to turn the spit, leaving Kate facing down at the flames.

She could feel the fire’s heat, gentle at first, but very soon it became too hot. She struggled in vain to get away from it, crying out when the ropes refused to give way. Sweat formed on her forehead, dripping down into the fire, that gave an angry hiss in reply.

‘Hold still,’ Thorin told her. ‘You’ll wear yourself out. Save your strength.’

‘What for?’ She couldn’t help the fact that it came out in a whimper. At the moment she could not care less about how he thought about her. They would die soon anyway, so his good opinion, or the lack of it, was of no consequence to anyone.

‘Dawn,’ he replied. ‘Gandalf will come.’ The certainty in his voice might have fooled her into believing that, had she not still been looking at the flames down below.

‘What if he doesn’t?’ It sounded childish, even to her own ears.

She felt a hand grip hers and hold it tightly. ‘That question is of no relevance. He will come.’

The touch was strangely reassuring in a way. And it definitely helped that she was turned away from the fire in that very same moment, leaving poor Bombur to face the flames, even though he was still unaware of them. Kate knew she should be feeling sorry for him, but in that moment she could only be grateful that it was no longer her in that spot. It would seem that selflessness didn’t last in the face of such danger. And while she knew this should make her feel really bad about herself, in this moment she could still only feel the relief.

She could feel the gentle breeze again, cooling her down considerably, allowing her to catch her breath and drive some of the worst panic away. Some of her common sense returned, telling her that dawn indeed could not be far off anymore. The sky was already a lighter shade of blue than it had been. Maybe, just maybe…

She squashed that thought immediately. She could not yet start to hope, not when it would be all too easy for that hope to die along with the three of them as soon as the trolls decided they were too hungry to wait for them to be properly cooked.

And unfortunately one of the trolls seemed to have heard that thought. ‘No good roasting ‘em now,’ he said, although Kate was in no position to see which of the three had spoken. ‘It’d take all night and dawn is close already. I don’t fancy being turned to stone.’

Instead of trembling, her body went rigid at the sound of that. Even Thorin seemed to realise now how bad things had become. His grip on her hand tightened for a moment, before he remembered himself and loosened it again.

‘It will be all right,’ the dwarf repeated. Kate wasn’t one hundred percent sure who he was talking to, though.

The other trolls began to get annoyed, or even more annoyed than they already were, because for some reason they had not liked it that most of their supper had just run off. ‘Don’t start an argument now, Bill,’ a second troll spoke up in an irritated tone. ‘Or it _will_ take all night!’

‘Now, who’s a-arguing?’ yet another troll – or so Kate thought, because they sounded and looked all the same to her – demanded.

‘You are!’ it was shot back.

Somehow this sounded familiar to her. She fought back the panic just enough to let her mind work properly for a moment and the second she did, she could have wept with relief. It came out like a sob combined with laughter, causing Thorin to swivel his head in her direction, staring at her as if she had just lost her mind.

‘What are you doing?’ he hissed at her. If he had unleashed that icy stare on the fire, Kate was almost sure it would have extinguished it immediately.

She turned her head towards him, speaking in a low whisper to prevent the trolls from overhearing them. ‘He’s already here,’ she informed him. ‘Gandalf’s already here. He’s the one confusing them.’

Their faces were only inches apart, so she could see every detail of his disapproving and disbelieving expression. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘It’s in the book.’ Her relief at the wizard’s presence had melted all her fear and panic away. Even though she was still not the Gandalf’s biggest fan, it was reassuring that he was here to take care of the situation. He had already taken control, because at the moment there wasn’t much cooking or roasting going on at all. The fire had not been fed for some time now and the trolls now stood facing each other, arguing in loud voices about what to do. ‘The one you partially read. He’ll keep them busy till sunrise.’

The change in her tone must have been noticed by him, because his eyebrows shot up. ‘You are sure?’

She nodded best as she could with all those ropes still restricting her every movement. ‘As far as I can hear they’re even using the same words. We will be fine.’ That realisation made it feel like a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Someone else would take care of them now. She didn’t need to worry anymore. ‘We will be fine.’

Thorin apparently neither accepted nor rejected that theory. He only nodded to let her know he had heard her.

‘So, you don’t want to roast them, then let’s boil them!’ one of the trolls exclaimed.

This seemed to the others like the best plan and for a moment Kate was actually afraid for herself and her companions, but then the voice interjected again. ‘No good boiling ‘em,’ it said. Now that Kate knew it to be Gandalf she could hear it as well. But one had to know and listen hard to make it out and she was not really surprised that the trolls had not yet figured it out. ‘We ain’t got no water and it’s a long way down to the well and all.’

The smallest of smiles now also graced Thorin’s features as he nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he agreed. ‘It is him.’ He had spoken a bit louder to make himself heard over the trolls’ now again bickering voices, but with them getting themselves into a full-blown argument again, that didn’t matter anyway. They had never been really interested in their meal’s conversation anyway and with their own problems being far more urgent they had lost all importance.

She nodded, but refrained from saying the ‘I know’ that was dying to come out of her mouth. They had finally come to some kind of truce and she was in no hurry to break it again so soon, especially as she was still tied against him, with their faces so close to one another’s. So instead she settled for: ‘You can hear it too?’ Part of her was still afraid she was only imagining things, but if Thorin recognised Gandalf’s voice too, that was no longer a possibility.

‘I do,’ he replied.

It occurred to Kate that he had more or less admitted, several times come to think of it, that her book wasn’t totally rubbish. What’s more, he had even asked her what was in the story when they had been wondering about what to do. The dwarf had definitely changed his tune.

The point was, Kate had too. She had seen too much this night to maintain the opinion that the book knew best. Up till tonight she had believed in the book above everything else, valuing it over her own common sense even. But the movie had proven to be only partially true and the book was the same story. If Gandalf had only come here now, that meant that, had she not intervened, all of the dwarves could have been dead by now.

And what did this make of her? Gandalf had introduced her as an omniscient one, but when it all came down to it, it would seem that she knew nothing at all. Or rather, she did know something, elements of the story, but she was unable to piece them together in the right way. The real events followed the movie at one point, the book at another and sometimes they had a will of their own, not fitting in with either.

 _Oh, stop it!_ she told herself _. It will do you no good._

She searched the sky again, looking for evidence that dawn indeed was nearing, finding it as soon as she looked. The sky was considerately lighter than it had been only minutes ago. It now showed the pale light it always was just before the sun rose over the horizon.

‘Only a few more minutes,’ Thorin told her. If she hadn’t known better she would have said he was trying to reassure her.

Kate nodded. ‘I know.’ She gave him a weak smile. Somehow, she didn’t think she could go back to hating him, not really. You just couldn’t be mortal enemies after an almost-got-eaten-by-three-mountain-trolls-experience.

‘All right,’ the nearest troll said. ‘Then we’ll sit on them and squash them. We can boil ‘em later.’

This was met by some muttered agreement, followed by the logical next question: ‘Who shall we sit on first?’

It was official now: trolls were the most stupid creatures in Middle Earth. Anyone with a brain would have reasoned that there were three prisoners and three trolls, which made one troll for each prisoner. But this had obviously not yet occurred to them and even if it had, Kate would have expected them to argue which troll got which prisoner. They just were that dim.

‘Better sit on that last fellow first,’ one of them said. They had moved again, so Kate could not see the speaker, although it might have been Gandalf as well. It really was difficult to hear.

‘Fine,’ his friend agreed. ‘If you want to sit on him first, sit on him. Which is he?’

‘The one with the black hair,’ was the reply.

‘Nonsense!’ another disagreed. ‘He’s the one with the red hair.’

‘Gandalf,’ Thorin said softly.

‘Almost certainly,’ Kate confirmed. The flames were slowly dying down and the trolls hadn’t yet noticed a thing. They were too busy being played for the fools that they were.

‘I am sure it was black,’ the first troll maintained. Kate knew they had names, but since she had no way to tell them apart, she couldn’t tell which was which. Numbers tended to work best in these situations.

‘Black it was,’ number two agreed.

‘Then what did yer say it was red for?’ number one wondered. Kate wondered if he really sounded that stupid or if it was just her imagination. She allowed herself to settle for the first.

All the while the sky was growing lighter, a soft light blue in the east that gradually spread to the rest of the sky. The trolls however were too busy to notice. For people who didn’t fancy being turned to stone they had a remarkable disregard for the time of night.

‘I never did! Tom said that!’ number two defended himself.

Tom, who Kate supposed was number three, hastened to deny that. ‘That I never did! That was you!’ The tone was so angry that she half expected the trolls to start a fight right there and then over the subject.

‘Two to one, so shut yer mouth!’ number one, who seemed to be the leader of the group, decided.

‘The wonders of democracy,’ Kate muttered under her breath. ‘Didn’t think they’d have that around here.’ Even though she was still tied to this blasted spit, she knew the real danger had gone and that seemed to make everything ten times as funny as usual.

Thorin gave her a quizzical look. ‘What’s democracy?’

She considered explaining it in full, but decided that would take too long. So instead she settled for the, although not quite truthful: ‘Political system in which the majority gets their way.’

The idea seemed utterly bewildering to him, which wasn’t that strange, considering he lived in a world that was ruled by kings only.

She directed her attention back to the trolls, who by now were really on the verge of getting themselves in some kind of fight. ‘Now stop it!’ the leader yelled. ‘The night’s getting on and dawn comes early. Let’s get on with it!’

But he never got to that. ‘The dawn will take you all!’ a voice boomed and then Kate could see the man that belonged to it, standing on a boulder, his staff raised above his head.

That properly confused the trolls. ‘Who’s that?’ number two demanded. Gandalf’s words didn’t seem to have gotten through his thick skull just yet.

‘Can we eat him too?’ number three wondered stupidly.

But, as Kate already knew, the wizard’s staff struck the rock, which split in two at contact, letting the bright early morning sun streaming its light into the clearing. The trolls were instantly turned to stone and Kate found herself looking at the shapes of several familiar dwarves and a hobbit that materialised from behind Gandalf’s back.

 

***

 

Thorin’s legs were still mostly numb when he was finally being lifted down from the trolls’ spit. He tried to mask the fact that as a result of that his walking wasn’t very smooth yet. His men expected him to be strong at all times and just being almost eaten by trolls was no excuse to behave anything short of perfect.

Kate and Bombur had no such concerns. The fat dwarf had only now woken, completely oblivious of the fact that he had been tied to a spit for well over an hour. He kept blinking and asking how that was possible, causing a lot of the others to laugh. Having escaped certain death seemed to have made them even more noisy than usual.

Kate was a little more subdued. The experience seemed to have left her exhausted now that the initial relief was starting to wear off. She had all but collapsed against a nearby rock, massaging her legs and shoulders to get some feeling back into them.

Thorin himself had some injuries and bruises as well, he guessed. The young human woman had been tied against his left side so tightly it was bound to have bruised something, although it would be worse for her, being pressed against his armour. Yet she had not made as much as a noise ever since she had thanked Bofur and Dwalin for untying her. She had just sat down, letting the others rejoice in their little victory.

He shook his head. Kate Andrews was a mystery. She had been mad at him and she had been scared out of her wits doing what she had done, but she had done it all the same. Thorin had felt it; being so close to her made it impossible not to feel her trembling, hear her weeping. Some would call it cowardice. He might have agreed with them before tonight. But she had ridden out with him, even though she was frightened. That had to be worth something. And he had heard her story at the fire last night, even though she was unaware of it. Even though she was no stranger to hardships, in a way she had also been sheltered from the difficulties of life. She had never really faced the dangers he had. Could he really blame her for acting like she did?

Ugh, life had become very complicated indeed. One single night had removed most of his dislike for both her and the dreaded book. If Kate was to be believed – and he didn’t really suspect her of lying anymore, not after everything that had happened – then, apart from his rescue plan, everything that had occurred here fit in neatly with the story as she knew it. Loath as he was to admit it, that book must have some value.

No, that had to be wrong. Because if that book was right, that would mean that he was marching towards his own death and that he could not accept. The future could not be that easily predicted, especially not by a book from a completely different world. That was just too much.

His gaze settled on the wizard, who was knocking his staff against a now stone troll with a rather smug expression on his face.

‘Where did you go to, if I may ask?’ he wondered. Of course the wizard had returned in the nick of time, apparently guided here by the dwarves that had managed to escape because of Kate and Thorin’s crazy diversion, but the fact remained that this would probably not have happened if he had never left at all.

‘To look ahead,’ the wizard replied, cryptically as ever. But Thorin suspected him of not being entirely truthful. Their fight had been a serious one and the dwarf had been convinced that they had seen the last of the wizard on this quest. Gandalf had genuinely been, as Kate phrased it, pissed off.

‘And what brought you back?’ he therefore asked. True, his company had taken care of that for a bit, but they would never have been able to get to them in time had the wizard not already been on the way back to them.

Gandalf understood that. ‘Looking behind,’ he answered.

A look passed between them and Thorin knew that, at least for now, all was well again. He nodded, deciding to leave the subject. Doubtlessly it would come up again, the next time they argued about whether or not to go to the elves, but he wasn’t in the mood for that right now.

‘Nasty business,’ Gandalf muttered, more to himself than to Thorin. ‘Still, you’re all in one piece.’

‘No thanks to your burglar,’ Thorin pointed out. The hobbit must have been delusional, trying to steal back four ponies from mountain trolls by trying to steal one of the trolls’ knife. It was a small miracle he lived to tell the tale, all things considering. If anything, it only lessened Thorin’s already low esteem of their burglar’s abilities. By the looks of things, Kate was more qualified for the job.

Gandalf misunderstood. ‘He had the nerves to play for time,’ the wizard said reproachfully.

‘Only because Kate… Miss Andrews told him to,’ Thorin countered, hoping that his minor slip would go unnoticed. When had he even started to refer to the company’s “advisor” by her first name anyway?

But of course Gandalf noticed. There wasn’t much that got past him, Thorin reckoned. Fortunately it wasn’t more like a one-quizzically-raised-eyebrow reaction this time. Maybe he didn’t feel the need to resume arguing yet.

The wizard’s gaze wandered to the mountains and the amusement turned to a wondering look. ‘They must have come down from the Ettenmoors,’ he muttered.

Thorin nodded thoughtfully. That would be the logical explanation. ‘Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?’ he asked. It had been far too chaotic last night, so he hadn’t spared it a moment’s thought before now, but trolls being so close to this road was strange indeed. He had travelled in this area before and trolls had never been a problem then. They stuck to the mountains, where there were caves in which they could hide from the daylight. For these three to come here was unusual, alarming even.

‘Not for an age.’ Gandalf shook his head, equally thoughtfully, but Thorin thought there was a hint of worry to be seen there as well. The wizard too seemed to think it disturbing. ‘Not since a darker power ruled these lands.’

That did not at all sound good. Thorin knew his history. The period Gandalf referred to was the time before Sauron’s defeat and the very idea that such a dark time could be ahead of them was no welcome news.

But still, it could be a coincidence, he told himself. Yes, this incident was indeed unfortunate, but it could also be the natural result of a food shortage in these creatures’ normal habitat. They could just have come down here in search of food and if that was the case, the farmer and his whole unfortunate family had served their purpose. The thought nearly made him sick. He had seen a lot in his life, but this still managed to turn his stomach.

Which was why it was probably just as well that Gandalf changed the subject. ‘They could not have moved in daylight.’

‘There must be a cave nearby,’ he realised, his mind making that assumption automatically. And if there was a cave, there must be treasure there as well. Because other than eating innocent travellers, trolls also loved treasure. There had to be.

They set about it with a vengeance. There were bound to be some useful things in that cave and, if they were really lucky, they might even find some food there as well. And that was a welcome thought, because their supplies were running low.

The clearing emptied out, but when Thorin counted their number he found they were missing one curly head. His eyes swept the clearing and found the missing person still sitting against the rock, trying to force some unruly strands of hair back into her braid.

‘You can’t remain here,’ he told her bluntly.

‘I don’t really fancy that treasure-hunting thing or the smell that goes with it,’ she informed him. ‘I can sit back and wait here until you’re done.’

‘We won’t linger after,’ he pointed out, all the while wondering why he hadn’t started shouting at her already. Before tonight he would have snapped at her to do as he told her, she would have shouted back and before they knew it they would once again find themselves in an argument audible on the other end of Eriador.

‘Fine!’ she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, but it wasn’t as snappy as it would normally have been. Maybe all it took for them to go back to normal was a few quiet days. Perhaps that was all it took for them to forget about their truce. Some part of him even longed for that. This truce was uncharted waters for him and he found it unsettled him. Quite frankly, he had no idea how to behave around her.

She got up, sending him a glare as she did so. ‘Have it your way. But I am not going in that cave.’

That was okay with him. He didn’t want her there either. But he could not risk losing a member of his company, just because she chose to stay behind on her own. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that said he was the one to leave her behind by the fire only hours ago. So instead he marched off to join the rest of the group.

The stench in the cave attacked his nose as viciously as any troll and his nose wrinkled in disgust as they entered the trolls’ lair properly. Gandalf, back in his role as puppet master, led them, but Thorin followed closely behind, determined not to let Gandalf gain too much leadership. That was one thing that had not changed. He still detested the fact that the grey wizard seemed to think he was the one in charge, especially when he was not.

There was treasure indeed, but the presence of bones and the smell of rotting flesh mingled with troll stench spoiled it for Thorin. This was a place of death. He would take what he needed from here and then leave the rest, he decided.

The others didn’t share his attitude. ‘Seems a shame just to leave it lying around,’ Bofur commented. ‘Anyone could take it.’

And they would be welcome to it, with Thorin’s compliments. The treasure may be great, but compared to the wealth of Erebor it was nothing at all. That indeed helped to cure him from the gold’s lure.

But his companions still called for a shovel to bury some of the hoard. A long-term deposit they called it. The dwarf king shook his head in mild amusement. Did they really think they would be coming back here one day? Whichever way this adventure went, he knew he would not return to this side of the Misty Mountains once he crossed them. He either succeeded in retaking the Lonely Mountain or he died trying. There was no other way for him and he guessed that the same was more or less true for his companions.

His own interest was mainly in the weapons that had belonged to the trolls’ victims. He left some of the others to look into the food stored in the cave and set about examining the weapons himself. By the looks of things the beasts must have been here for quite some time. They had managed to collect a great variety of weapons, in all shapes and sizes, belonging to the different races that wandered this part of Middle Earth.

Two blades caught his attention almost right away. He set his torch aside and picked one up to examine it a bit better. It was dusty and covered in filth. The trolls had obviously not bothered touching this sword. And the same was true for the other blade. He held them up to have a better look at them.

‘These swords were not made by any troll,’ he remarked to himself. They felt good in his hands, well-balanced and not too heavy.

Gandalf came closer and Thorin gave him one of the blades for examination. The wizard had wandered everywhere and nowhere and would probably be able to identify them. ‘Nor were they made by any smith among Men,’ he muttered, studying the weapon closely. He unsheathed it. The blade was still sharp and beautiful, despite its long stay in a trolls’ cave. ‘These were forged in Gondolin, by the High Elves of the First Age.’

Those words all but triggered an allergic reaction in Thorin. He had no love of elves, or their weapons. Being a smith himself he considered their way of making weapons cheating. There was no way a naturally forged sword could be so light or indestructible. Somehow it wasn’t fair. And by any rate he was reluctant to accept help from elves, even if it was by taking the elvish blade of an elf that was probably long gone anyway.

‘You could not wish for a finer blade,’ Gandalf told him sharply when he caught Thorin making to put the sword away.

That stopped him dead in his tracks. Even if he did not like the wizard’s way of speaking to him – like he was a boy who had been caught making mischief – the words landed home all the same. He was still on a dangerous quest and discarding a good sword because he didn’t like its makers was a luxury he could not afford. It would indeed be foolish to do so. And so he grabbed the weapon tighter and unsheathed it, finding himself looking at the best blade he had ever seen, even when it indeed had this unnatural feel to it.

Gandalf was already moving out, as was most of the company now that they had what they came for. It would seem there were indeed some edible things stored away in here and that was a welcome surprise indeed.

He made to follow them. There was nothing here worth staying for and they should be going again soon. They had missed a few hours already and Thorin was not the type to wait an entire day in the same place to let them recover their strength after their ordeal. They were dwarves; they could handle one sleepless night. And Gandalf was a wizard. Thorin had never seen him take a nap before and he doubted he ever would. He wasn’t too sure about the hobbit and the human, but they could probably sleep a bit while riding.

He was getting close to the treasure-burying group when something caught his eye. Against the wall to his left side was another blade. It had elvish make written all over it and yet Thorin could not let it lying around in this filthy cave. The blade was sharp, a bit on the short side, but as good as his own newly acquired sword. Although it had to be old, it didn’t show. He guessed it would be around the same age as the swords that he had only just found further down the cave.

But it would be no use to him. He was on a quest to reclaim his Mountain, not on a quest to collect swords from the side of the road. He already had two good dwarvish swords and this elven one to go with it. He simply didn’t need any more weapons.

But Kate did. The thought hit him quite unexpectedly, triggered by the memory of the young human woman trying to lift his heavy spare sword. Last night had made it clear to him that she in fact was quite incapable of defending herself properly. So far the other members of the company had let her train with their swords, but he could see those were all too heavy for her. If she were to turn sideways behind a young tree, she’d be invisible. There was not an ounce of muscle on her. Her build was too slender, almost elvish, to wield their weapons.

But she could use this blade. It weighed almost nothing, but it was sharp and easy to handle. The only real problem with this was to get her to accept his gift. Because he had made it more than clear that she would not get anything from him, not after she had gotten the money from their bet anyway.

He urged the small group that was still burying the treasure to move out, leave this foul place behind as fast as they could, and then left the place himself. His nose and lungs were grateful for the fresh air he treated them with, even if the horrible stench became more or less ignorable when you were in there long enough.

He found his company in their old camping place, which he now realised was far too close for comfort to the cave. They had already gotten a fire going on which they were trying to cook breakfast.

‘No fire,’ Thorin ordered brusquely. ‘We’ll move out within the hour.’

Bombur uttered a muttered protest about how he now would have to eat his breakfast stone-cold and Thorin could only just bite back a snappy remark along the lines of how he himself had almost become breakfast to their captors. He should be able to handle to have a sparse one himself, especially since he was now so fat he could not possible be able to spot his own feet.

Bombur wasn’t the only one muttering, but their protests died down when they saw their leader’s icy glare. Mr Baggins looked very disappointed, but then, Gandalf had informed Thorin that hobbits preferred to live on at least six meals a day, so having three as a maximum and two as an average must be something of a torment to him. But pity or compassion was not in the dwarf king’s dictionary, not where the burglar was concerned anyway. It was, after all, more or less his fault that they had experienced such a terrible night.

Kate just shrugged, grabbed some food and moved to a quiet corner to eat it. She had grabbed one of the three books she carried with her and started reading. It was almost some kind of ritual, Thorin observed. Whenever she didn’t want to be disturbed, she took a book and pretended to take no notice of the rest of the world.

He marched over to her. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.

She looked at him with some mocking glance. ‘Dancing a jig,’ she countered dryly. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

He just waited for the real reply, which he knew was coming anyway.

She snorted. ‘I’m doing my homework, if you must know.’ She waved the book in front of his face and he saw it was the book called The Hobbit, the one he had been trying to avoid at all costs. It sometimes felt as if he could never look or talk to her without that dreaded book coming in somewhere.

He held out the sword to her. ‘Take it,’ he told her.

Kate’s eyebrows raised in a quizzical manner. ‘Whatever happened to _you won’t be getting anything else_?’

‘It’s not a gift. We found it in the troll hoard and Durin knows you’ll need something to protect yourself with.’ He gave her a condescending look, angered by her words and the presence of the book. Now that they had gotten out of their tight spot he felt they no longer needed it.

She took it a bit hesitantly, grabbing it all wrong. ‘Thanks, I guess.’

It took all he had not to snort. ‘Try not to hurt yourself with it.’ He had taken his leave of her before she had the chance to react.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What on earth was all_ that _about?_


	10. Truce?

**Chapter 10**

**Truce?**

 

_If I was thinking that the whole troll incident would make things better, I would soon find out that I had been wrong. Things very much continued to go as they had before our encounter with the trolls: we got up early, had a quick breakfast and then rode the rest of the day, until we all but fell off our ponies in exhaustion._

_The weather didn’t really help either. The day after the troll incident it began to rain and it continued to do so for almost a week. It weren’t heavy showers, but more like the constant drizzle that is somehow all the worse. It soaked our clothes and left us with the very accurate feeling of being wet and cold to the bone._

_On a more positive note my arguments with Thorin seemed to have greatly lessened. Whether that was caused by the lack of communication in the group as a whole or the fragile truce formed during our cooperation over the troll crisis, I wasn’t sure. But no matter what had caused it, the fact remained that the arguments were limited to once a day at maximum. Sometimes even an entire day passed without shouting matches. I daresay our companions were grateful for that as well._

_While this was probably a good thing, I also missed our verbal sparring, as insane as that might sound. In a strange way it made me feel alive to go up against someone who could keep up with me in that department and Thorin definitely fit the bill. Without the fights things became rather silent and dreary._

_So all in all things were just very wet and very miserable and, as it would soon turn out, our luck was definitely not improving, not at all…_

 

It had been raining for six days continuously and the dry moments in between could be counted on the fingers of one hand; they were few and short-lasting, leaving the company wet and irritable. They slept in small caves near the side of the road when they could, trying to get warm and dry before getting soaked all over again the next day.

His men were not the only ones to be extremely relieved when the clouds finally broke and the sun was revealed. Thorin himself muttered a silent thanks to whoever controlled the weather when he woke that day with no rain pouring down on him.

He told himself that his decision to stay in the nice sunny glade where they had made camp, for a day longer had nothing to do whatsoever with the change in the weather. It was merely a question of effectiveness. Their things were wet and in desperate need of drying. And a day of rest for the living members of the company was by now a necessity as well. Most of them looked dead on their feet, not just Mr Baggins and Miss Andrews.

The general mood was cheerful, but Thorin was restless. He knew it was the right decision to make, but he wanted to move on. The Misty Mountains were close now. He could see them in the distance and it was as if they called to him, urged him to cross them and cross them now. But sometimes a leader needed to set his own needs aside for those he was responsible for and this was one of those occasions.

‘Where exactly are we?’ he could hear Kate ask in an interested tone.

‘Very near the mountains now, lass.’ Dwalin was the one that answered the question. The fearsome warrior had at first greatly disliked the female presence in the group, but after the troll crisis, as Kate now referred to it, he had taken some kind of liking to her. He had taken the time to teach her how to handle her new sword properly when he had refused to do so before. And even the dwarf king had to admit that under his tutelage she did rather well. For a human woman. ‘There, you can see them over there.’

‘Is that the Mountain?’ asked Bilbo’s voice in a respectful tone.

That made Thorin almost chuckle. That Halfling really had no understanding of the world at all! Did he really believe it to be so small? How naïve he was!

Balin did laugh. ‘Of course not!’ Thorin’s oldest friend tried and failed to hide his amusement. ‘That is only the beginning of the Misty Mountains,’ he corrected the hobbit. ‘And we have got to get through, or over or under those somehow, before we can come into the Wilderland beyond. And it is a deal of a way even from the other side of them to the Lonely Mountain in the East.’

‘Oh.’ Bilbo’s expression of disappointment mixed with shock made Thorin immediately forget his promise not to chuckle, so he quickly averted his head from the scene.

Gandalf, who had been watching it all as well, stifled his own laughter and came to stand beside the leader of the company. The wizard had been cutting back on his overbearing behaviour for the past week, no doubt the result of the rain, but Thorin had a feeling that that was about to end.

And indeed. ‘Have you considered my suggestion?’ Gandalf asked.

Thorin didn’t even need to ask what he was talking about. They had argued about this before and then Gandalf had stormed out in anger. ‘I will not go there,’ he replied, looking straight ahead as to not meet the other’s eyes.

‘Then what will you do about that map?’ the grey wizard demanded. ‘We have no way to uncover its secrets ourselves. Lord Elrond has the power to reveal them to us.’

‘He will try to stop us,’ Thorin countered. ‘The elves have no love of my people. They will try to stop our quest. I told you before: I will not seek them out.’ _Unless I had no other choice_.

And he had plenty of other options. Gandalf himself had admitted that there might be more people in Middle Earth who had the skill to read the map and Thorin was determined to find them. And if they all turned out to be elves, he would do it without their information. The map at least gave them a general direction in which they could search. He might not even need the hidden information.

‘Then you will remain ignorant of the map’s message,’ Gandalf replied bluntly. It didn’t take an expert to establish that his temper was swiftly rising again.

‘That is not entirely true, Gandalf, and I think you know it.’

Thorin turned on his heels, finding himself staring at the company’s advisor. She was paying him no mind, though. She had her gaze fixed on the grey wizard, and, even though she was smaller than he was, looked at him as if he was a child that had been caught stealing sweets from the forbidden cupboard. Had he not been wondering what in Durin’s name she was talking about, he might have thought it quite amusing.

‘What do you mean?’ he demanded. He had a feeling the book was somehow involved, but if that was saving him the need to visit elves, he would choose her book any time.

Kate gave him an appraising look, biting her lip. ‘You’re not going to like it,’ she warned him.

He ignored that. ‘Get on with it.’

‘It’s in the book,’ she blurted out, digging said book up from her backpack as she spoke. ‘The map’s printed in it, including the hidden runes. I only realised last night that there was information on it that wasn’t part of the original map, so I did my homework and checked it out.’ The words came spilling out of her mouth. She didn’t look at either of them, flipping through her book in search of the right page.

When she found it, she held it out to Thorin. He hesitated for a moment – his dislike of the book still present, even though it wasn’t as bad as it had been when he had first been confronted with it – but then took it.

‘Here it is.’ Kate’s finger pointed out a piece of text on the map. Other than that it was exactly the same as the one he had in his possession, down to the last detail. The maps were identical.

‘That’s impossible,’ he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Kate of course did not get that. He got the full benefits of her most fiery glare. He could almost see the flames blazing in her eyes. ‘So you keep telling me,’ she said indignantly. ‘And yet the impossible things keep happening.’

There was very little he could say to deny that, but yet he remained cautious where the book was concerned. Somehow it seemed wiser not to have blind faith in a book that predicted his death.

Kate pointed at the runes again. ‘These runes are only visible on your map on Midsummer, I thought. According to the story, they’re moon runes.’

Gandalf made an ‘Ah’ sound, gaining him Kate’s attention. ‘But you knew that already,’ she accused him. ‘You know the story. You as good as admitted it on the first day of the journey. I bet you already knew the message of the map.’ Her eyes had narrowed in suspicion, something Thorin was all too familiar with by now.

And he couldn’t help but copy her movements. He had heard himself how Gandalf had admitted to knowing the story as told in her book. And now the information that had kept evading him, turned out to be in it, as the wizard must have known all along. And that meant he had been holding out on them, for whatever reason he may have. And Thorin had a pretty fair idea what the reason may be in this particular case.

‘You would have made us seek out the elves for help!’ he spat.

Gandalf at least had the decency to look a little bit guilty, maybe even ashamed, but it was difficult to make out completely, since he had taken to hiding behind his literal smokescreen, again.

‘You scheming bastard,’ Kate muttered under her breath. ‘You’re unbelievable!’

That about summed it up to perfection. No doubt Gandalf had already been useful on this journey and he would surely continue to be so, but the wizard had ulterior motives. By now Thorin knew he should have known better than to think anything else.

Gandalf’s eyes, now again visible through the smoke, started to show signs of irritations. ‘We still need Lord Elrond’s help,’ he pointed out. ‘Our supplies are running low. The elves would be able to help us.’

‘Help?’ Thorin scoffed. ‘They are not known for doing that, as you perfectly well know.’

‘I am sure Miss Andrews…’ Gandalf began.

Kate immediately threw up her hands in defence. ‘Kindly keep me out of this!’

‘Isn’t there something about Rivendell in your book, dear girl?’ the wizard asked in a friendly voice.

Thorin may not have known the woman for very long, but even he knew better than to confront her when she was already on the warpath. And that she definitely was. She had just caught Gandalf in what might well be called lying. And if it wasn’t lying, it was holding back important information at least.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘You brought me on as an advisor, didn’t you?’ she demanded. ‘I take it that means I can change some of the things in this blasted book, can’t I?’

Gandalf hid behind his smokescreen again.

Kate glared at him and then at the pipe as if she would like to do nothing more than to smash the object to pieces. ‘I take it that means yes.’ Her voice was nothing more than a hiss, but somehow it made her sound all the more dangerous for it. As Thorin well knew, the hissing was only the prelude to the shouting and for once it wasn’t directed at him, which somehow surprised him. ‘Why else would you have brought me here if not to prevent some things from happening?’

Gandalf’s eyes flickered for a moment, but then he was once again safely hidden behind the smoke.

But it had been enough. The realisation hit him with the force of a stone avalanche. Kate was here to change events, events that took place in the book he was currently holding in his very hands. Events like him dying.

He blocked out that thought immediately. He could do without that kind of ideas for now. And looking at Kate, he didn’t know how in Durin’s name she was supposed to change anything, provided that the book was the truth in the first place. The human woman was too small, too fragile, too inexperienced to do anything even approaching useful. She belonged to the race of Men. Their race was the weakest in Middle Earth, apart from the hobbits maybe. It would be too much to ask of any of them to change anything in the world, but it would be even more cruel to ask it of a woman like Kate.

He appraised her as she gave in to her rage, calling the grey wizard a lot of names he wouldn’t even dream of uttering, but he blocked it out. He had heard it all before. But even in the grasp of a full-blown temper she didn’t look all that impressive. She might be taller than most of the dwarves in the company, but she had no muscle to show for it. And while she was apparently good at sneaking around unheard, the unseen aspect of that was far less successful because of her reddish brown curls. She was no warrior and she was no burglar. The whole thing was topped off by her dislike to even be on this quest.

But he wasn’t as desperate to get rid of her as he had been either. She had helped them after all and by now he had come to accept that Gandalf wasn’t in a hurry to let her get back to her world as well. He would just have to learn to live with her presence, as much as he detested the necessity of it.

And in this particular fight they were even on the same side. Because no matter what Gandalf had been thinking when he merrily plotted away, informing them had not been high on his list of priorities. Thorin found himself a little surprised, but then, a common enemy united apparently even them.

He let Kate vent her rage and turned his attention towards the runes on the map in the book. Thorin wasn’t a scribe like Ori, but he was literate and altogether a rather learned man. It took hardly any effort at all to figure out the meaning of the words. ‘Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks,’ he read out loud. ‘And the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the key-hole.’

That got the attention of the others. Kate sent one last furious glare in Gandalf’s direction and then broke off her shouting to turn and nod at him. ‘That sounds like the line I remember reading about,’ she confirmed. ‘I think we’ve got it.’ She looked rather pleased with herself.

Even Gandalf nodded, albeit reluctantly. ‘That is indeed what I believe to be the message on the map.’

Thorin looked at the runes, but the vagueness of the instructions made him incapable of feeling the relief of finally having an answer to the question of what hidden information the map contained. Durin’s Day was clear enough. It was the first part he had a problem with. Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks? That sounded more like a drunkard’s rambling than the serious instructions of a sane man.

‘What does it mean?’ he all but demanded of the wizard. After learning Gandalf’s true motives he was less than eager to keep the wizard around. And it didn’t exactly help that the grey wizard still acted like he knew best – like the patient parent keeping an eye on his naughty and naïve children pretending to be adults. The fact that he was also taller than any of them didn’t make it any easier either. Thorin was tall for one of his race and he had become used to him being the one towering over others, not the other way around.

It was however the woman that answered. ‘Exactly what it says,’ she replied. She made a move to take back the book from him, but hesitated at the last moment. ‘May I?’

He handed it back to her and she started flipping through its pages. She read a piece and then nodded with a smug smile spreading over her face. ‘Yes, that’s true,’ she muttered. ‘There’s a grey stone at the back door and if this book is actually right about something, a thrush will knock on it on Durin’s Day.’ She must have seen his confused face, because she added: ‘As in literally.’

Thorin looked at her. For the first time since he’d met her, there was an excited twinkle in her eyes that seemed to light up her entire face. He didn’t know why, but it made her almost look pretty. _Don’t be daft_ , he thought the next second. Miss Andrews wasn’t pretty, not to him and possibly not even to her own race, if he knew anything about Men at all. She was rather plain to them and to dwarves there was no attraction at all. For most she would be too tall. Men didn’t like women taller than themselves much and even if there was one dwarf who would not have a problem with her height, she would still be too skinny to be thought pretty. Most of them would crush her if they as much as gently hugged her.

He became aware of Gandalf’s quizzical look and he started to realise that the wizard had asked a question that he had missed out on while he was too busy appraising Kate. But asking to repeat it was admitting he had not been listening, so he threw another question at the advisor. ‘And where is this back door?’ he demanded of her in a disbelieving voice. ‘You seem to know it all so well. Enlighten us.’

He could see hurt flash in her eyes, but it was only a moment and then she was firmly back in control of herself. ‘Not entirely certain,’ she confessed, keeping her facial expression as neutral as she could manage. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere on the west side of the Mountain, though.’

Unfortunately he had come to that conclusion himself already, rendering her information as good as meaningless.

He was about to comment on that uselessness when a great racket in the forest prevented him from doing so. Someone was coming and whoever they were, they had no reservations about keeping quiet. In Thorin’s experience, that was never a good thing.

‘Somebody’s coming!’ he shouted at his companions, who didn’t seem to have taken notice of that fact. They were all still sitting around the campfire, merrily chatting the day away, laughing over Bofur’s latest joke.

He was surprised, if only a little, when Gandalf immediately took command of the situation again, making Thorin want to grind his teeth in anger.

Even Kate seemed to disapprove. ‘Is it just my imagination, or are you too ready to hit him?’ she asked him under her breath, before going after the wizard.

Thorin was left on his own, frowning slightly as he realised that for the first time ever, they actually agreed on something.

 

***

 

Kate had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen now, so she already knew that there was nothing that justified such panic. It would however not do to tell her companions that they were overreacting, even in the unlikely case they’d stop their fight preparations long enough to listen to what she had to say. So she’d let herself be shoved behind a living wall of dwarf bodies and waited.

‘Why are you so calm?’ Dwalin hissed at her. The dwarf warrior was one of those that was still not entirely sure about her presence in this company. He had agreed to teach her how to handle her sword, but Kate reckoned that was his way for repaying her for her diversion of the trolls, and nothing else. It certainly didn’t mean that he suddenly liked her, not at all.

Kate contemplated telling him the truth for a second, and then decided against it. She didn’t believe Thorin would thank her for it – since he hated her book and knowledge of future events with a passion – and she wasn’t entirely sure Dwalin would believe her even if she did tell him. Most of the dwarves seemed to think of her as a useless but not-too-bad tag-along, because Gandalf seemed to think she would be useful. In that respect her credentials weren’t much better than Bilbo’s. At any rate, no one except Gandalf and Thorin even knew about the book and its contents. As it was, that was probably for the best as well.

So instead she opted on the slightly less truthful: ‘Would it actually help if I started screaming and fainting?’

He glowered at her, but refrained from saying something, which he wouldn’t have had time for anyway, since the panicked shouting in the forest demanded their attention.

‘Thieves! Fire! Murder!’

Kate recognised the voice from the movie, although it remained strange that some things were so alike. If anything, it freaked her out from time to time. But as it was, she felt relieved first and foremost. It wasn’t that she had really been afraid that the newcomer was anything but the slightly eccentric Radagast the Brown, but unconsciously she had been holding her breath. If the troll incident had taught her one thing, it was that she could never ever trust anything to go exactly according to plan.

It also made her wonder how much use her presence really was if her knowledge wasn’t as accurate as she had first believed it to be. Clearly nothing fit entirely, not to mention that some things were obviously nonsense. Had she not interfered, the encounter with the troll might have turned out rather unpleasant indeed.

‘Radagast!’ Gandalf exclaimed in a relieved voice, although Kate wasn’t sure he really was that genuine. He knew the book, of that she was certain, and she had caught him quoting the movie at her on her first day in Middle Earth. She assumed it would be a safe guess to say that he had somehow gained knowledge of that as well, although how precisely remained a mystery to her.

‘Radagast the Brown,’ Gandalf introduced the man, interrupting her musings. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Most dwarves relaxed a little now that the situation was under control. Only Bilbo kept staring at the brown wizard. Kate admitted that he might indeed have some ground to do so; Radagast’s appearance truly was a bit strange.

The other person still looking as if he was on full alert was Thorin, although his attention was fixed on her rather than the new arrival. His gaze unnerved her. It wasn’t exactly that icy glare that she had become so used to over the last weeks, but it was by no means a friendly look either.

The wizards moved to a more private place to talk, although they should not have bothered, at least not for Kate’s sake. She already knew. She went over what she remembered of the movie in her head as the other members of the company went about their own activities. There was the conversation and then the…

‘Oh, _shit_!’ she cursed, getting up to find Thorin and tell him to get out of here as fast as they possibly could.

It turned out that was a mistake. She had had some ache in her lower belly for some hours, but hadn’t paid it much attention since she had more interesting and pressing matters to concern herself with. It was only now that she felt a stab of pain that she realised they had been on the road for longer than she had thought.

‘Shit!’ she exclaimed, gaining her the immediate attention of everyone in the company.

‘Are you all right, lassie?’ Balin asked.

 _No, I’m not_. But she’d die before she would admit to that. This had been embarrassing enough the first time. She could do without the awkward looks and overripe tomato imitations, especially now that they might just find them in a dangerous situation within the bloody hour.

‘ _Fine_!’ she snapped at him. She appreciated his concern, she really did, just not this very minute. ‘Thorin, can I have a word?’

Best keep this private. After all, she could be wrong. Not about the movie; she knew it well enough to be sure about the course of events in there. She just wasn’t sure it was right about what happened here. It could still all be different. There needn’t be any Wargs and Orcs, just because the movie claimed they should be there. And they weren’t in the book, so this could just be false alarm. But better false alarm than being unprepared.

Thorin sent her another glare. Kate could easily guess where that one came from. She just had the nerve to all but command him and the dwarf, being royalty, had difficulty dealing with that. It really wasn’t surprising.

Nevertheless, he did as she asked and Kate gratefully sat down again. The pain was better bearable as long as she sat, although she didn’t get her hopes up about that. She dug the painkillers up and swallowed some of them. If she was right about this and they would have to run before long, she really couldn’t use this.

 _Like I ever could use this_ , she thought, furious with herself for forgetting something this significant.

Thorin eyed her warily. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded. She hated to still hear that suspicion in his voice. One would say that he would know better by now. But no, from the way he spoke Kate could tell that he still did not trust her.

And it made her more than angry, which, in combination with all those hormones, was what Bofur called lethal. She had overheard him some weeks ago when she had just had another argument with Durin’s bloody heir, saying that if he had to choose between confronting her or the dragon, he’d take the dragon anytime. It seemed a healthier alternative.

‘Oh, just sitting here polishing my nails,’ she snapped at him.

Thorin didn’t fail to react to this. ‘I demand to know what is going on.’ He was still standing, arms folded over his chest, radiating power with every cell of his body. It almost made her cower away in fear, but she didn’t. She was too angry to care and even if she hadn’t been, the thrill of their argument kept her going. This was seriously disturbing, Kate knew that. But she had missed their arguments. They made her feel alive, and, more importantly, stopped her from worrying about what happened back home because she was temporarily too preoccupied with the fight to think about anything else. It made her feel strong and in control somehow.

‘Last time I checked, you didn’t want to know anything about that,’ she countered, thoroughly enjoying the confused look on his face, the one telling her that he had no idea what she was actually saying. ‘It’s that woman thing again,’ she clarified. ‘That monthly thing.’ It felt embarrassing to speak of to a man, but it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing for her as it was for him. Thorin didn’t do a tomato imitation, but he sure was acting uncomfortable.

‘You wished to inform me of your health?’ Uncomfortable though he may be, the words were icy and annoyingly composed.

‘No.’ The fact that she had to look up to him made her almost decide to stand, but she decided against it when she remembered the pain. It was bad enough already and she could do without increasing it. ‘We should get out of here,’ she told him. ‘As in right now.’

He simply scowled at her. ‘Why, if I may ask?’

His condescending tone almost had her lose her temper, but even Kate knew when to keep herself in check, even if the other members of the company disagreed on that account. ‘Because there’s wargs coming, and orcs following behind.’

Thorin didn’t believe it. He snorted, the corners of his mouth curling up in amusement. ‘That’s something from your book?’ he questioned.

‘It’s from the story, yes,’ she replied, careful not to use the word book, since this sure wasn’t anywhere in it.

The stare hardened. ‘I told you to keep that nonsense to yourself,’ he hissed, bending over so he didn’t need to raise his voice.

The challenge was too much to resist. ‘You didn’t seem that opposed to it when it provided the answer to your problem!’ she snapped. When next she checked she was on her feet. Her belly protested against that, but she found she could ignore the pain if she was only mad enough.

And that she was. Because this wasn’t fair. That book had proven itself, _Kate_ had proven herself. Good grief, Thorin had even asked her what was in the story when they had been roasting over the trolls’ cooking fire! And she hadn’t heard him protesting when it was her book that had provided him with the perfect excuse to avoid the elves he hated so much. And she hadn’t even been sure it was a good idea to tell him. It was by way of a peace offering that she had given him the information he wanted. Privately she agreed with Gandalf on this matter. It would be wiser to seek out Lord Elrond’s help, especially now that their supplies were dwindling. But Thorin most certainly didn’t feel like asking elves for help and this had been her way to try and mend things a little. After all, it didn’t look like she was going home anytime soon, so they would be in each other’s company for quite some time to come. It would be better for them – and the rest of the company – if they weren’t at each other’s throats all the time.

She now realised that he only believed her when it suited him. At the first sign of trouble he abandoned that attitude entirely, going back to conveniently hating the book. And since she was the one that reminded him of the book, he also hated her on such occasions.

And indeed he did slap down any suggestion that things might not be as all right as he wanted them to be. ‘Coincidence. It needn’t even be true.’

The dismissive tone made her forget her promise to keep her temper in check. ‘You bloody hypocrite!’ she shouted, not even caring that everyone would be able to hear them loud and clear. ‘You were quick enough to seek my advice when you thought it would help.’

‘And it didn’t.’ The denial of the truth was so firm it struck her speechless for a few seconds. ‘I will not let my actions be guided by a book that might not even tell the truth.’

The familiar words made her find her tongue again. ‘Now, where have I heard that one before?’ she asked in a hard sarcastic voice. ‘Oh, hang on a second, would that be that one time right before we ran into a bunch of hungry trolls, exactly as I predicted?’ She could hardly believe this was even happening. Of course Thorin was the most stubborn person she had ever met or would ever meet in her life, but surely he would have been gifted with some common sense?

It would however seem that common sense had abandoned him. ‘Coincidence,’ he told her again, even if he did seem a bit uneasy about it now.

She’d bet a year salary that he knew she was telling the truth, but would not admit to that. Maybe he was hoping that if he denied it long enough it wouldn’t happen either. And if that was the case, he even ranked higher on the list of most stupid creatures in Middle Earth than those blasted trolls. It was perhaps not wise to translate that thought into the spoken word, but it had already left her mouth before her brain caught up with her.

And that had not been such a good idea. Thorin’s look, that had already been as icy as she had ever seen it, intensified in tenfold. Normally that would have sent her running for the hills without as much as a second thought, but today, this very minute, the rage had her firmly in its grasp and common sense be damned. She met his eyes with a glare of her own, almost daring him to react.

And he didn’t fail to comply. ‘My sole concern is to keep this company safe,’ he hissed at her. His voice, so unlike hers, was a hushed whisper that made him somehow sound all the more dangerous for it.

‘Well, maybe you should have given it a little more thought then before you decided to attack a full-grown dragon with so small a group,’ she countered. ‘Because last I checked that certainly wasn’t the best way to keep people safe!’

That riled him. ‘You foolish girl!’ he spat. ‘What do you know of such things? You are only a child!’

If anything made her angry, that did. It dragged up memories of her father, memories she tried to keep stored away most of the time. He too had always used these words to tell her to keep out of his business, using it as an excuse not to give her the explanation for his appalling behaviour towards her mother.

And right now she was so angry that she didn’t even think. She hit him, right in his face. Her hand left a red mark on his left cheek.

That caught the attention of the rest of the company. Every pair of eyes moved towards them. A deathly quiet settled over the clearing. If someone would have dropped a pin in that moment, it would have deafened the lot of them.

But Kate didn’t really see their shocked stares. She could only see Thorin, who looked at her as if she was some kind of ghost, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, the very image of shock and bewilderment.

She staggered back, her brain only now catching up with her actions. Good grief, what had she done? It had never been her intention to strike him like that. Then why had she? What on earth had gotten into her?

But now was not the time to ponder that question. She heard a low growl coming from somewhere behind them, that snapped everyone out of their shocked state.

‘Was that a wolf?’ Bilbo sounded more than a little nervous. The hobbit glanced around him, visibly on edge. ‘Are there wolves out there?’

Even Thorin now stopped his forensic study of Kate’s face to address the danger, but not before the young woman had seen the look of realisation on his face. He knew she had been right and for some reason it scared the hell out of him.

‘Wolves?’ Bofur too was very clearly frightened. His hands were clasping his weapon so tightly that his knuckles turned white. ‘No, that is not a wolf.’

The realisation hit Kate about half a second later, around the time a massive warg sprang into their group: this was not a book or a movie. This was real and she was in some real danger. And she had never been so frightened in her life as she had been in that very moment.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _The woman was right. But by Mahal’s hammer, can I afford to believe her?_


	11. Dog's Dinner

**Chapter 11**

**Dog’s Dinner**

 

_To say that I was scared would have been like saying that Thorin had a mild dislike of orcs. The monster, because that was what it was, seemed to make a beeline for me, jumping over the others to get to me. Its teeth were bared, saliva dripping from its enormous jaws. And of course the only thing I did was stand there like an idiot. Fear had frozen me into place. I don’t think I could have moved at all, even if I remembered that I should be capable to do so. But I definitely didn’t remember that in that frightening moment. I could only stand there and watch my death approach as in slow motion._

_I must have looked like a complete fool, not even trying to get out of the way when there was such danger approaching. Thorin as good as told me later when he scolded me for that, along with a good few other things. But that was later. In that moment he was, once again, the knight in shining armour._

_Thorin didn’t even hesitate for half a second. I didn’t see where he had gotten his sword from so quickly, but I was ever so grateful that it had been within reach as he embedded it in the beast’s vulnerable neck. The warg dropped dead not a metre away from me, while Kíli shot its equally ugly and vicious companion._

_By this time the entire company seemed to be in somewhat of a panic, some looking at Gandalf, some at Thorin, searching for some leadership, I don’t doubt. Everyone was suddenly realising that we were not as safe as we had hoped to be and that was bound to cause some uneasiness, even now that our attackers lay dead on the forest floor._

_Thorin removed his sword from the warg’s body. ‘Warg scouts!’ he spat, as if they were the most disgusting things he had ever encountered in his life…_

 

That got Kate out of her shocked state in the end, and she gave herself a good mental scolding for freezing now of all times. She had some experience in surviving in the wild, and while she didn’t exactly have any experience in dealing with monstrous animals such as these, she had been taught to at least get out of the way of anything dangerous that might for some reason decide to go her way.

And these two may be dead, but if the movie actually was right about this, they were not out of danger yet, not at all.

Thorin had realised the same thing. ‘That means an orc pack will not be far behind.’

Bilbo looked as if he might faint on the spot. ‘Orc pack?’ He swayed a bit and actually needed Balin’s help to steady himself.

Kate wished she could just faint and escape from this living nightmare, but of course she had no such luck. Now that the anger was rapidly fading away she became far too aware of the stinging pain in her lower belly. Her body was announcing that her monthly period had just started again and that didn’t base its planning on whether or not the owner of said body could use that pain at that specific moment.

A soft hiss escaped her as she tried to stand a little taller to give the impression that she could actually handle this. By now she had long since realised that she probably couldn’t, but she wasn’t about to sit here and wait for that orc pack to find her either. She was in no hurry to find out what those creatures did to those they captured. That at least was something both book and movie agreed on.

Gandalf and Thorin had landed themselves in their next argument again. The wizard had been as stupid as to suggest that Thorin might have accidentally given the quest away to someone who would have told the orcs, and the dwarf, insulted at that insinuation, all but bit Gandalf’s head off in reply.

‘Who did you tell?’ Gandalf had raised himself to his full height as he practically bellowed out the question again.

‘No one, I swear!’ If looks could kill, the grey wizard would be as dead as those two wargs by now. But now was not the time to argue and fortunately Thorin realised that as well. It seemed he did have some common sense left after all. ‘What in Durin’s name is going on?’

‘You are being hunted.’ Even though the wizard did his best to keep his voice calm, the horror seeped through nonetheless.

And Kate agreed. This was bad. Of course, if the movie should be believed, they were all going to be fine in the end. But the young woman had come to greatly doubt any knowledge movie and book could provide her with. She had learned from the troll incident. Had she not interfered there, they might very well have ended up as troll supper. Neither book nor movie had ever mentioned the need for such interference, but in reality it sure as hell had become a necessity.

She hoped and prayed that there was no need for her to do anything of that kind this time, because she seriously doubted she would be able to. By now it had become clear to her that the painkillers were not going to work. This was not entirely unexpected. If she was lucky they would take the edge of the pain, making it feel like a dull throbbing, but that was the best she could hope for. Running was going to be all kinds of hell already, never mind changing the course of events, even if she did know how on earth she was supposed to be doing that.

She listened with half an ear as the loss of the ponies was reported and Radagast offered to draw their pursuers off with his sledge and rabbits. Under any other circumstance the brown wizard’s smug confidence would have been amusing, but as it was Kate had more pressing matters to concern herself with.

They had to wait for a few minutes before they would follow the brown wizard, to give him the chance to tempt the orcs to go after him rather than the company. Those minutes of waiting were torture. Kate knew they were in a lot of danger, danger she should be running from. Remaining in the same place felt like a tremendous mistake to her. She was restless and on edge.

To distract herself she walked over to the tree stump she had set her backpack on earlier. She had heard Thorin’s command to leave everything behind that they could, but this wasn’t one of those things. In this bag were the last things she had of home and she’d be damned if she left those behind to be torn apart by those foul creatures.

She prepared to follow her companions as a strong hand gripped her arm. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ The words were more of a growl than a hiss this time, but Kate knew, even without looking, who had spoken them. There was only one person who kept asking these stupid questions, especially when it should be obvious what she was doing.

He turned around, finding herself face to face with the dwarf king. ‘Taking a stroll around the woods?’ she offered with a very fake smile. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

He glared at her or, more specifically, the rucksack. ‘Leave it,’ he ordered brusquely, ignoring her words.

‘No way,’ she replied immediately.

‘It will slow you down,’ he pointed out. ‘You are slow enough as it is and you are in pain. I will not risk you falling behind.’ The words were as cold and uncaring as usual, but it was the meaning of them that somehow registered in Kate’s mind. He would not risk her falling behind and he had even acknowledged the fact that she was hurting.

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Is this the great Thorin Oakenshield actually admitting that he cares?’ Because of the pain and the frustration the words came out harsher than she had meant them. She was touched really, although she still wasn’t sure he even meant it this way. One would be unable to tell from his voice or face.

His face remained impassive as he repeated his command. ‘Leave it,’ he told her.

‘Like hell I’m not!’ she snapped at him. ‘That is the last thing I have of home. I won’t leave it behind for the orcs to play with.’ And when she saw the unyielding look in his eyes, she added, in quite the malicious voice: ‘I’m not asking you to leave behind your last family heirlooms either, am I?’ Her thoughts were with the book also. She had been brought on as the company’s advisor, so that bloody book was a necessity of life now. They needed it. But she didn’t say that to Thorin, because that would most likely only cause him to insist that she leave it behind, since he hated the book so much.

Kate thought she saw a quick flash of pain in his eyes, but it was gone before she could be sure. ‘Take it off,’ he commanded her in that so familiar cold voice.

‘I told you…’ she began to protest.

Thorin didn’t listen. He grabbed the bag and removed it from her person. Kate struggled, clinging to the backpack with all her might, but it really wasn’t a contest. Thorin was at least ten times stronger than she was and it took him hardly ten seconds to get it from her.

‘Give it back!’ She hated that there were tears of frustration in her eyes. He was taking her last link to home from her and their struggle had made it quite clear that there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop that from happening. She was too weak, too inexperienced and too small to hold her own against a trained warrior like the dwarf. In that moment it became painfully clear to her that she was the most vulnerable person in the company. She was a burden and she was therefore treated as one.

Thorin ignored her, as he was prone to do whenever it suited him. But he didn’t throw the bag away from them, as she had expected. Instead he swung it on his own back.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded as he pulled her with him to the head of the column.

‘Carrying your bag,’ he replied curtly.

For a moment she forgot that she was both angry and scared as she stared at him. ‘Why?’ she asked, puzzled.

He gave her a quizzical look. ‘Would you rather I left it behind?’ he inquired in a condescending tone.

‘Of course not!’

‘Then keep quiet,’ he ordered. ‘Make sure you keep up.’ He released his hold on her arm as he almost shoved her against Dori. ‘She is your responsibility,’ he told the other dwarf. ‘Make sure you do not lose her.’

Dori nodded. ‘Come on, lass.’

And Kate obeyed. She was too confused to protest at that very moment. She wasn’t even sure how she felt anymore. The mix of confusion, fear and physical discomfort made that her brain didn’t seem to function properly anymore. The pain was gradually growing worse, developing to that familiar someone-is-stabbing-several-knives-in-my-belly pain that made every step a torment in and out of itself. But self-preservation was stronger than the will to crawl away into a dark corner to wait until it had all ended. She knew that she would not be safe anywhere right now. The orcs would find them wherever they hid, so all they could really do was run.

She let Dori lead her from one rock formation to the next. In the distance she could hear the Wargs’ howling and Radagast’s laughing as he outwitted them once again. The wizard really was far too cheerful for all this. If he were to be believed this was just one big joke, nothing dangerous at all. Kate was sure the man’s heart was in the right place, but she sure had her doubts about his mental health. Was he suicidal or something?

But now was hardly the time to ponder this. They were still running for their lives, hiding behind rocks as they went, but still Kate felt painfully exposed. There were no trees here anymore and the only cover came from the rocks. And, if she remembered correctly, Radagast’s diversion was not going to save them from this. That was in no way a happy thought, or a very encouraging one, but she opted on keeping her mouth shut. Morale was bad enough as it was. They didn’t need her to lower it even further.

And so she panicked alone, as Dori dragged her with him again, past Thorin and Gandalf who, now of all times, once again seemed to find themselves in some kind of argument. If anything, those two really needed to get their priorities sorted.

‘Where are you leading us?’ she could hear Thorin ask, no, demand as they ran past him.

The next moment Kate tripped over some kind of stone she hadn’t noticed, falling almost right into his arms, which saved Gandalf from having to answer the question. The wizard was already hurrying back to the head of the column even as Thorin was yanking her back to her feet again.

‘I told you to keep up,’ he snarled at her, dragging her with him. He waved Dori on and the dwarf obeyed without question.

‘Excuse me!’ she panted. ‘I didn’t… really mean… to trip!’ The snappiness of that remark was somewhat reduced by her panting. Normally running didn’t affect her this much, but normally she didn’t go for a run on the day her time of the month came around either. She could feel a headache starting to build in the back of her head as well, making it all even worse.

‘Then watch where you’re going,’ Thorin hissed.

‘That’s rich!’ she retorted. This was weird, really weird, but arguing with him, even as they were still running for their lives, kept both the panic and the pain at bay. It gave her something to focus on, something for which she actually needed her brain. She clung to it for dear life. ‘Coming from someone… who has no idea… where he’s going himself!’

If he could have afforded to, he would surely have glared at her for that remark. As it was he just pulled her behind yet another rock with him. He all but sandwiched her between the formation and his own body, but a warning glance prevented her from commenting on that.

And the next second she knew why he had wanted her to keep quiet, because it was that particular rock, the one where all their careful plans were going to fail spectacularly. She heard a low growl coming from somewhere above their heads and her heart stopped. She knew that if the movie was right, they would succeed in both killing the beast and making it to Rivendell more or less unscathed, but reason seemed to have abandoned her all of a sudden. Because there was no telling that the real events would actually follow either book or movie. She had seen that before. Right now, she trusted the book as much as she distrusted it.

But at least that blasted movie was right about the amount of danger they were now in. She could hear the dwarves’ breathing all around her, but she could hear the sound of a weapon being drawn even better.

‘Stay very still,’ Thorin hissed in her ear.

She would have snorted if she hadn’t actually frozen into place already. She only managed a small nod as she pressed herself against the rock as far as she could to stay out of sight.

The dwarf now turned his attention to Kíli, who got the hint. He only needed two arrows to make short work of both the warg and its rider, but the sound of dying warg made enough racket to alarm every orc on this side of the Misty Mountains, Kate reckoned. It came tumbling down, making a growling, suffocating kind of sound that somehow reminded Kate of a dog throwing up. Its rider turned out to be very much alive still, even if he was injured. Dwalin and Bifur finished him off quickly, but he still managed to produce one hell of a battle scream before he died. And no one needed to tell Kate that this was bad news, very bad news.

‘Oh, _shit_!’ she cursed under her breath. The frightening situation at least made her forget that her entire body seemed to ache. Her belly was still hurting, her head was throbbing, her lungs were burning and her legs were cramping, but she’d take that any time if it meant she would not get torn apart by those overgrown dogs with bad breaths.

Gandalf shouted something, a command for them to run probably, but Kate didn’t need an order to get moving. Her legs seemed to move out of their own volition. The howling behind her was more than enough encouragement to ignore the pain. The adrenaline coursed through her, making her run faster than she had believed herself capable of. Maybe that was just what fear did to a person.

There were hills in the landscape now and even some trees, but they would be no good for hiding now. The enemy was already on their trail and no amount of tree climbing would fool them. She had no idea where Radagast had suddenly gone off to, but she had a feeling that not even the brown wizard and his rabbits would have been able to persuade the orcs to go after him instead of them.

‘Keep up!’ Thorin snarled at her when she tripped over her own feet and all but fell. As it was only his firm grip on her right hand prevented her from literally tumbling off the hill.

‘I’m trying!’ she snapped back. ‘I’m not… exactly eager… to make a dog’s dinner… out of this.’ The quip was slightly less funny than it could have been because of the very serious situation they were still in. Nonetheless Thorin’s mouth curled up a little. Whatever this was, these strange bantering arguments, it seemed to help him as well as her.

‘Come along,’ he told her, the tone a little less harsh than it had been before, if only a little.

Not that _that_ really worked out. The wargs were faster than they were and in the time it took them to get down the hill their attackers had gone round, surrounding them with ease.

‘Shit!’ she heard someone curse.

Despite the fact that the big bad wolves were advancing she swivelled her head around in surprise, only to find that it had been Thorin to utter the curse that she thought she had the monopoly on. The dwarf didn’t even seem to notice what he had really said here, his eyes checking the place, searching for an escape route. He had to come to the depressing conclusion that there was none.

‘Where’s Gandalf?’ someone shouted.

But the wizard was gone. Maybe it was the shock of that realisation that made her capable of thinking clearly for just a moment. It made her capable of remembering. And she remembered that their salvation was actually near. Gandalf was busy exploring that stupid hidden passage right now and they would be able to flee into it.

Kate looked around frantically, her hopes crushed as there was no sign of that blasted stone anywhere. The panic overtook her and she was only half aware that Thorin released his hold on her hand in favour of grasping his sword, ready to make one final heroic stand. But she didn’t want a final stand. She wanted safety and a place to run to. She wasn’t made for the heroics. She was too weak for them, as she had been told time and again.

‘Get behind me,’ Thorin growled.

She didn’t see what good that would do, but she obeyed nonetheless. Probably it was just some stupid warrior instinct to protect the weakest member of the company. That would also explain why Dori and Nori shoved their brother next to her in the middle of the circle after the stone from his sling failed to do anything useful, because angering the big bad wolf was not considered to be that.

If circumstances had been different they might have joked about how they were always seen as weaker than they really were. Although Ori was decades older than Kate was, he still came across as a younger brother. Maybe it was because he was so shy, she pondered. No matter what it was, he felt like a sibling to her, and a less annoying one than Jacko at that. And right now his presence seemed to calm her nerves a bit.

Still, it came as a relief when Gandalf called out to them, appearing from a large rock that was almost impossible to overlook. Yet in her panic Kate had done just that. Now she wondered if she had suffered from temporary blindness. It seemed the most obvious thing in the landscape right now.

And as it was, it was their way out. So she grabbed Ori’s hand and dragged him with her. ‘Let’s get out of here!’ she yelled.

She didn’t look what the others did. She assumed they would be running at full speed to the wizard as well, but she didn’t feel the need to look around and check it. Maybe that was unfeeling and rather selfish, but as it was the ground was very uneven and she didn’t dare take her eyes off it for fear of not seeing something and falling, only to end up as a literal dog’s dinner. No, thank you very much indeed!

Most of the dwarves were already inside the hidden passage when she heard it: heavy paws on the ground, low growling and the sound of another weapon being drawn. The instinct was too strong, she had to look over her shoulder. The next moment she wished she hadn’t. It was a large warg, larger even then the ones she had seen already. And it was far closer to them than she was comfortable with. Atop was an equally large orc with an evil grin on his face that would surely plague her nightmares for years and years to come. That was, if she would live long enough to ever have them.

Someone yelled at them to run. Kate couldn’t quite make out the voice and at the moment that was the very least of her concerns. Because now she was suddenly reminded of why she hadn’t looked over her shoulder in the first place: she could fall. And falling was what she did. There wasn’t ground where she tried to set her foot, just air, and she only realised she had in all likeliness stepped down a rabbit hole when she was already falling against Ori, sending them both falling to the ground as the warg came closer at alarming speed.

 

***

 

It happened like in slow motion, or whatever it was that Miss Andrews liked to call it. It was as if someone slowed down time itself.

He stood atop the rock leading towards the secret tunnel Gandalf had somehow discovered, watching the members of his company run for safety as quickly as their legs could carry them. Most of them were already inside, but Thorin wouldn’t dream of following them before the last one had made it here safely. They were his responsibility and, as Kate had so eloquently phrased it, it was mainly his fault that they were being chased by Orcs in the first place, because if he hadn’t gone on this quest, all of them would still be safe in the Ered Luin.

And they were not yet safe, not all of them anyway. Kíli was throwing his advice right out of the window, shooting Orcs and Wargs with a deathly precision. The lad was a good archer to be sure, but he was far too reckless for his own good. Miss Andrews and Ori were running at neck-break speed towards the tunnel.

‘Kíli!’ he bellowed, in a tone that meant _get here as fast as you can, right now!_ for anyone who knew him. Doubtlessly there would be more than enough opportunity to shoot Orcs, if Miss Andrews was to be believed anyway.

Kíli fired one final shot that hit an approaching Orc right in the forehead. The foul creature fell to the ground even as his mount seemed to trip over its own feet. That gave his nephew the chance to make a run for it. There were no other Wargs near him. He would make it to the tunnel well ahead of any pursuers.

Thorin directed his attention back to the other two, only to immediately realise that they should have been his main priority. Ori was doing fine. Initially Kate had been almost literally dragging him in the right direction, but soon the fear drove them both forward and now it would seem that their roles had been reversed. Young and inexperienced though he may be, Ori was now leading Kate, holding her hand, pulling her with him.

Kate was in trouble. It didn’t take an expert to see that. Thorin knew she was suffering from that womanly problem again that he really did not want to think about. She was in pain, but it would seem that he had underestimated just how much it was affecting her. Sweat was on her forehead and her face was too pale, almost a shade of grey. He had seen dead bodies with a better colouring.

And things just got worse. Because Kíli may have no pursuers at the moment, Ori and Kate certainly had. There was a Warg with a rider just behind them, closing the distance between them too quickly for Thorin’s liking. They would never be able to outrun the “overgrown wolf” as Kate had called it.

‘Kate!’ He didn’t remember giving himself permission to call out to her. He didn’t remember since when he even addressed her by her first name. He couldn’t even think of one reason why calling her would be useful. She was already running as fast as she could, which, admittedly, wasn’t very fast and he would never get to the beast before it could get to them.

Kate seemed to have heard him, but she didn’t look at him. Instead she glanced over her shoulder, seeing the beast advancing. At least she was aware of the danger now, even if Ori wasn’t yet. It would however been slightly more reassuring if she would have been able to act on this information.

But she wasn’t. The beast was too close. Thorin could see Miss Andrews shouted a warning at Ori, who increased his pace. But it was too late. The Warg was close enough to literally jump at the two and all the dwarf king could do was stand there, watch the horror unfold under his very nose, incapable of preventing it.

And then the unexpected happened. He didn’t see too well what Miss Andrews did, but by the looks of it she let herself fall against her companion, shoving him so hard he tripped and fell. Both dwarf and human crashed to the ground at the very moment the Warg jumped at them. Its front paws seemed to claw Kate’s shoulder, but then it sailed over them and landed on the ground several metres away from them.

Thorin would have taken the time to whisper a quick thanks to Mahal had he not been otherwise preoccupied. ‘Kíli, shoot it!’ he bellowed. The lad was not yet in the tunnel and right now his skill with the bow was a gift from heaven.

Ori was already on his feet again, but Kate stumbled. Thorin was already on his way to them before he had even consciously decided to do so. He let Kíli deal with any attackers that might show up and made it his own personal responsibility to get the last two to safety.

‘Run,’ he ordered Ori. The lad seemed to be all right, apart from a few minor scratches where the Warg’s paw had gone past his shoulder. Thorin hadn’t seen it happening, but he assumed that was what had passed.

The young dwarf shot a hesitant look at Kate, who was quite a bit worse for wear. She seemed to have trouble standing upright, her face twisting in pain whenever she tried to. ‘Go,’ she told Ori. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Thorin shoved him in the right direction, knowing he would make it easily on his own. It had been Kate slowing him down just now. He took it upon himself to make sure Kate too would get safely inside that tunnel. He yanked her to her feet, ignoring her yelp of pain as he did so. For once he was grateful that they were about the same height. It made it easier to grasp her waist, the most effective way to drag her with him.

‘Run,’ he told her.

She nodded, her face still pale. She didn’t even seem to notice that one of Kíli’s arrows flew past her only a few centimetres away from her face, taking down the Warg that had tried to use their slowness to its advantage. For once there were no protests or witty remarks that got right under his skin. This obedient Kate was a whole new thing, but Thorin had no illusions about it. As soon as they were safe, this side of her would disappear almost immediately. But that did not matter now. They would concern themselves with that later. For now they had to run, because even though Kíli was still shooting Orcs as if he had done nothing else all his life, this place was still practically infested with the foul beasts.

It turned out Thorin had to drag her. Kate was limping and altogether slow and it came down to him half dragging, half carrying her to the entrance. ‘Get inside,’ he ordered her, a little more harshly than he had intended, but then this was hardly the time to kindly ask her if it would please her to cooperate.

She nodded again, sliding down the slope where she was caught by Balin and Nori. ‘Kíli, inside!’ he told the archer. He himself would not go down until he knew for sure that all the others were out of danger.

He quickly took in the environment to see if he had missed any of his companions, but all he could see were Wargs and Orcs, both dead and alive. He noticed with a bit of smugness that there appeared to be as many dead as there were alive and all of his companions were out of danger and very much alive, if not unscathed.

Having established that he let himself roll down as well, all but crashing into Kíli, who was helping the advisor to her feet. He meant to ask if everyone was all right, but the sound of a horn outside distracted him. That was no Orc horn to be sure. He knew the sound of those all too well and there was always something wrong with them. They sounded as evil as the creatures that used them.

He looked up as the slaughter outside began, but it was hard to see anything. The opening was not large and the fighting took place too far away from their safe hiding place. But whoever it was that attacked the Orcs now, and Thorin believed it would be a safe bet to say that it were Rangers, they were doing a good job of dealing with the foul creatures. An Orc came rolling down the steep slope, an arrow sticking out of his neck, as dead as the proverbial doornail.

Kate had been standing close and the corpse almost rolled onto her feet. She backed away in disgust, trying her hardest not to look at the enemy, confirming every suspicion Thorin had that she would be next to no use in battle. If she was so easily frightened, she would never hold her nerve on an actual battle ground.

The sound of the battle ceased as quickly as it had begun and the silence returned. Thorin strained his ears, but there was no indication that there was anyone, either friendly or not, out there anymore. The Rangers must have made short work of the Orcs, because if the Orcs had been victorious they would have remained to eat the corpses or, more likely, they would have attempted to get into the dwarves’ hiding place. No, Thorin was fairly sure it was again safe outside.

He bended over the Orc’s body and pulled the arrow free to study it, only to throw to the ground in disgust as he recognised it. ‘Elves!’ he spat. Those had not been Rangers that had attacked the Orcs and that must mean they had come far closer to elven territory than Thorin was actually comfortable with. That sly wizard must have known exactly where he was leading them and the dwarf now understood why he had refused to answer Thorin’s question of where they were going.

He swivelled around to send a deathly glare Gandalf’s way, but the grey wizard, although unable to hide behind his usual smokescreen, still managed to avoid Thorin’s icy stare by hiding in the shadow of his hat. It must be some kind of gift to hide in plain sight like that and it frustrated the dwarf to no end.

He was about to add some icy words to the stare when he was distracted by arguing voices. ‘I. Am. _Fine_!’ someone was snarling. Thorin didn’t even need to turn to know it was Kate. The voice was a dead giveaway, but even without it there was only one person he knew who talked like that, apart from his sister. Come to think of it, their tempers could be strangely alike. ‘Will you old wives stop fretting?’

‘You are hurt,’ Dori pointed out.

Thorin turned around to see the advisor leaning against the rock wall, looking anything but fine. In the dim cave light the colour of her skin seemed even more sickly than it had already looked in broad daylight, she had trouble standing upright and there were some wounds on her left shoulder where the Warg had scratched her. Nonetheless she managed to conjure up a fierce glare she sent Dori’s way. ‘Scratches,’ she said dismissively, taking one look at her shoulder before looking at the dwarf again. ‘And I think I twisted my ankle, but otherwise I’m okay. Can we just _go_?’

Thorin recognised that tone. She had used it on Fíli and him when she had gotten her womanly problem the first time. Kate Andrews was on the warpath and he would stay far away from that. They had more than enough arguments for one day.

Strangely enough it was Dwalin who protested against the notion. ‘You’re bleeding, lass,’ he pointed out. ‘There’s blood on your trousers. Óin should have a look at it before we go on.’

It was one of those occasions that Thorin would have gladly banged his head against the wall. He couldn’t really blame his old friend for not being aware of Miss Andrews’s monthly problem, but it _did_ make things rather awkward.

Kate’s face flushed as red as Bombur’s hair. ‘That’s normal,’ she blurted out. ‘Woman thing.’

‘Oh.’ Dwalin was not the only one who was positively shocked by this very unwelcome piece of information. He quickly marched off to explore the rest of the cave and more than the half of the others started to carry out a devoted study of either the ceiling or the floor.

Thorin left the scene. With Ori going on and on about how Kate had saved his life – which even Thorin had to admit she indeed had, although how she had managed to pull it off remained a complete mystery to him – she would have the undying gratitude of his two brothers, especially the eldest one. She wouldn’t want for assistance in the foreseeable future and Thorin was glad to be rid of her for a while.

He marched back to the entrance, trying to determine whether it would be safe to climb back out and continue on as they had before. He was quite sure this cave would lead on and on, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow a path with an unknown destination. Well, it wasn’t really unknown. Gandalf carefully avoiding to meet his eyes gave him a fairly good idea of what was at the end and he was determined not to go there.

On the other hand, going back outside would not be the best idea either. They would be painfully exposed on these plains and chances were the Orcs were still out there. Could he really take that risk and lead his people back into danger when he could avoid it?

In the end the decision was taken out of his hands. ‘I cannot see where the pathway leads!’ Dwalin reported. ‘Do we follow it or no?’

Thorin was still making up his mind when Bofur replied. He threw one suspicious glance towards the entrance and then said: ‘Follow it of course.’ The group had already started moving before Thorin could even start to think about voicing his protests. And he wasn’t even sure he didn’t want to go there. At any rate it might be better than the alternative. And so he swung Kate’s backpack over his shoulder again and followed his men, even when Gandalf’s muttered ‘I think that would be wise’ made him want to turn around on the spot. After all, what else was there to be done?

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I am starting to wonder which is worse: death by vicious Orc or death by fussing dwarf?_


	12. Into the Valley

**Chapter 12**

**Into the Valley**

 

_I knew of course exactly what was lying at the end of the path and unless I was very much mistaken, Thorin did too. The scowl on his face spoke volumes, as did Gandalf’s altogether smug expression. No doubt they would start arguing again first chance they got, but for now Gandalf wisely kept some distance between him and the vexed dwarf king._

_The rest of the company seemed wholly unsuspecting of the grey wizard’s ulterior motives and so we merrily walked, or in my case stumbled, along. From all the members of the company it would seem I had had the worst luck. My trip halfway down the rabbit hole, no matter how fortunate, had twisted my ankle and the wounds caused by the Warg started burning as well. Add the pain I was already experiencing and you get one very short-tempered Kate. I am afraid to say that I once again took it out on my companions, although I seriously doubt Dori would have stopped his bloody fussing even if I called him every foul name I could think of. I had tried to explain that I hadn’t been trying to be the heroine, that me pushing Ori out of the way was just dumb luck and had nothing to do with me whatsoever. I don’t think he even heard a word I said. He patiently supported me throughout the walk, ignoring my protests. He should have become a doctor for all the patience he had with me, even when I was being downright impossible._

_It was only when we finally caught sight of our destination that I managed to snap myself out of my bad mood. The sight of the hidden elven city made me forget about my physical discomfort for a while and I just stared at the almost unearthly beauty of it all. There were however some people who did not appreciate the sight…_

 

Thorin had suspected where they were going already, but when they reached the end of the path and the high rock walls gave way to a peaceful valley he knew for sure. Gandalf had led them right into the arms of his enemy.

He hang back a bit, even as the rest of the company was staring open-mouthed at the elven city. Most of them admired the beauty of it and Thorin would be the last one to deny that the hidden valley was indeed very beautiful to behold. It was only its occupants he had a problem with. His companions would not think of that immediately and Thorin couldn’t even blame them. More than half of them were not even born yet when the elves so horribly betrayed them. They did not remember what had happened then; they had never even seen a real elf. But Thorin had and the thought of his worst enemies living here spoiled even its magnificent beauty for him.

‘The valley of Imladris,’ Gandalf announced with that too pleased smile on his face. ‘But in the common tongue it is known by a different name.’

‘Rivendell,’ Mr Baggins breathed. The hobbit was deeply in awe of the scene in front of him. There was an amazed smile on his face. He for one surely did not have a problem with where they had gone.

‘Here lies the Last Homely House east of the sea,’ Gandalf said. The wizard was leaning on his staff. He looked far too harmless and innocent for such a scheming man. For some reason this enraged Thorin even more.

‘This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy!’ he accused him. At least that wiped that annoyingly innocent smile off his face. The wizard knew that he had done something that the leader of the company did not approve of. And if Thorin had anything to say in the matter, he would give this man a piece of his mind, making him think twice about pulling such a stunt ever again.

‘You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield.’ Gandalf reminded him a lot of a stern parent chastising his headstrong child and the fact that he was looking down on him did not help, not at all. ‘The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself!’ The tone became more irritated now than anything else.

 _Keep on dreaming, old man_ , Thorin thought, but he knew better than to say that. ‘You think the elves will give our quest their blessing?’ he demanded in a low growl. Kate had phrased it perfectly: right now he swore he wanted to do nothing more than hit the wizard. ‘They will try to stop us.’ And Gandalf should be well aware of that.

The reasons for this were as easy to guess as they were unfair. Some, mostly those from Thranduil’s realm, feared that if Smaug were to be chased out of Erebor he would come to Mirkwood and burn it to the ground. Thorin could not care less about that scenario. He would even point the drake in the right direction if it were to come to that. Others simply had no love of dwarves and would prevent them from rebuilding their most powerful kingdom if they could. A strong and thriving Erebor would be a political power to be reckoned with and especially the elves had no ambition to have to take the dwarves into consideration. The way they had lived for years now was the way they liked the dwarves best: scattered and powerless, incapable of presenting a strong united front. If, no _when_ , Erebor was reclaimed the dwarves would be strong again and there was more than one elf who feared that day. No, he did not think they would receive any kind of help here, no matter how much Gandalf wished for it.

Said wizard seemed wholly unconcerned. ‘Of course they will,’ he said calmly.

‘Then it’s probably best that we don’t tell them about it.’

Both men turned as one in the direction of the voice, only to see their professional adviser hop over to them. The woman was still unhealthily pale, limping and visibly exhausted, but the determined look was back in her eyes and it was clear that her condition did not mean that her wits had abandoned her. Or maybe they had. Because did she really think they would be allowed to stay here if they didn’t tell the elves how they had come to be here in the first place?

Gandalf favoured her with as stern a look as he had just unleashed on the dwarf king. ‘We have questions that need answering,’ he told her.

Kate’s eyebrows seemed to knit together as she frowned. ‘No, we don’t!’ she replied forcefully. There was also some annoyance in her voice, no doubt caused by her physical condition and her anger at the wizard’s behaviour. ‘We already know what is on that map. We sure as hell don’t need to ask Lord Elrond about it.’ She snorted. ‘And even if we want to check if that text is really on that map, we can just wait for Midsummer to come around and hold that map against the moonlight ourselves.’

Thorin was with her on that one. He would, of course, ascertain for himself that Kate’s book had given him the truth, but even if it hadn’t he would never show something that sensitive to an elf who wouldn’t think a second about trying to stop him the moment he learned of the true purpose of their journey. But he also knew that it would be almost impossible to hide why they were travelling east. So he folded his arms over his chest and challenged her. ‘What would you have us do then?’

Kate shrugged. ‘We lie, of course.’

It took Thorin some seconds to convince himself that he in fact had heard this proposal come out of Miss Andrews’s mouth and then he could only just stop his jaw from dropping wide open. The casual ease with which she launched this proposition seemed so out of character for her. Kate always struck him as a hothead, someone who excelled in yelling at people – and hitting them whenever she got really mad – but who lacked the cold determination it took to lie to others. In the weeks he had been in her company he had learned that the woman could not lie to save her own life, let alone the lives of others.

Kate misinterpreted his, and Gandalf’s, silence as an unspoken request to explain herself. ‘We can say you lot travel east to visit your kin in the Iron Hills for some kind of trade agreement or whatever it is that you think would make for a believable reason to travel in that direction.’

Thorin frowned. He could hardly even believe that he was having this conversation, let alone that he had this conversation with Kate Andrews. Her proposal went against everything he had always been taught about how one should behave. But there was something strangely exciting about doing this. The next question had already left his mouth before he had given himself permission to do so. ‘And how would you fit yourself and Mr Baggins in this company, Miss Andrews?’

If he had been hoping to silence her with this, he was being disappointed. The response was almost immediate. ‘Oh, I am from Bree. I have kin living east of the Misty Mountains, but my family thought it too dangerous to let me travel alone, so I joined your company to have companions on the journey.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘And as for Bilbo, well, it is not unheard of for hobbits, especially when they have Took blood running in their veins, to go and have adventures every now and then, is it?’

Gandalf nodded, albeit reluctantly. He made it no secret he was absolutely opposed to this course of action.

Kate ignored him. ‘Well then, Bilbo just wanted to see the world and you agreed to let him come with you as long as he didn’t make a nuisance of himself,’ she finished with a casual shrug of the shoulder, as if this was the most normal thing to do in the world.

Thorin once again found himself lost for words. The lies came tumbling from her lips as if it were nothing. There was something deeply disturbing about that and it was maybe even more so that, had he not known better, he might have even believed them. The stories were plausible. This would not be the first time a delegation of dwarves crossed the Misty Mountains to get some kind of agreement done with the Iron Hills, nor would it be strange for a lonely woman to travel in a bigger group and who would be surprised at a small hobbit wanting to see the world? So yes, that last one would be frowned upon maybe, but Thorin was fairly sure no one would question it. Gandalf’s presence was also easily explained, because a wizard was a good one to have for company on the roads, especially in the wilderness.

The longer he thought about it, the more he started to see the merits of this plan, even though he’d never admit that when called on it. It was becoming rather alarming how often he seemed to agree with the advisor, and that on one single day. He even started to notice a pattern, because they only ever seemed to be on the same side when they were in some kind of immediate danger or where Gandalf was concerned. It was remarkable how one wizard’s scheming behaviour managed to get them on the same side. He briefly wondered whether that was intentional. Thorin certainly wouldn’t put it past the old man.

Speaking of which, he certainly didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about the prospect of lying to one he considered his friend. ‘Lord Elrond is a friend of mine,’ he pointed out. ‘There will be no need for lies in this valley.’

‘There will be,’ Kate disagreed immediately. ‘If the movie is right, then there is a need to lie about our purpose in the east.’ She caught Thorin’s confused glance and added: ‘The other version of the story.’ She turned back to Gandalf. Thorin saw the tell-tale signs of an approaching anger attack, even when she still had to hold on to the nearest rock for support. During the argument that had started between them the dwarf had almost lost sight of her weakened state. Her sharp words and fiery glares made it sometimes far too easy to overlook everything else. ‘And you know that very well, because you know the movie, probably just as well as I do. And then you will also know that the real events seem to be following the movie’s an alarming amount of the time.’

Thorin was still wary where her story was concerned, but the fact that Gandalf looked at least a bit ashamed dispelled that for just a short while. But unfortunately Gandalf’s ashamed state lasted only for a few seconds. ‘Then you will also know that no matter what this quest will continue.’

Kate’s jaw set. ‘And we will leave this place like thieves in the night,’ she countered easily. ‘No, thanks very much.’

The dwarf king could see there was another counterargument coming on from Gandalf, but he had heard enough. Kate was all but dead on her feet, and the rest of the company was just plain exhausted. They had lingered here far too long and by now Thorin had accepted that they would at least have to ask for help here, if only to have a place where they could see to their injuries and restock their supplies. No matter how much he hated the elves, to turn back now would be foolish indeed. But they were going to do it his way this time, not Gandalf’s, and so he finally decided to pull his weight. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We’ll do it your way.’

Gandalf for one second seemed to think that Thorin was talking to him, but then noticed that his gaze was actually pointed in Kate’s direction. ‘Thorin…’ he tried.

But Thorin cut him off. He had tolerated the wizard’s overbearing behaviour for far too long and he had just about enough of it. ‘No,’ he said. Anyone who knew him knew that that tone meant that the subject was not up for discussion. ‘We’ll do this Kate’s way.’

Two pairs of eyebrows shot up at the mention of Kate’s first name, something he hadn’t been known to do much before, even though she kept insisting, but Thorin pretended not to take notice of their reactions. If he made this look completely natural, then he might prevent them from asking questions he did not want to answer, because he wasn’t sure he had an actual answer to them.

‘We have lingered here far too long already,’ he went on. ‘We should continue now. Some of us have injuries that need medical attention.’

Gandalf took a deep breath and fixed both Thorin and Kate with his most disapproving stare, muttering something about the stubbornness of dwarves, but then nodded. ‘If this is to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me.’

Thorin was not enthusiastic about that last proposal, but he knew he had to pick his battles and this wasn’t worth getting into another fight for. So he gave the smallest and curtest of nods. ‘Agreed.’

Gandalf was already on his way before the last syllable had even left his mouth, which left him with Kate, who was smiling, if only a little. ‘Unless I am very much mistaken, he just called himself charming,’ she muttered.

That hadn’t yet occurred to him and he needed to stifle a smirk at that particular idea. The wizard was a lot of things, but charming wasn’t one of his qualities, not as far as Thorin knew anyway. ‘You are not mistaken,’ he told her. He glanced around him, but the others were already following Gandalf. Even Dori was too busy fussing over his youngest brother’s injuries to remember Kate. He sighed. But then, they seemed to have some kind of truce, maybe even alliance, so he figured it wouldn’t be offensive to offer his assistance. After all, Miss Andrews had still difficulty walking. She wouldn’t get down to the valley all on her own and certainly not with the pace Gandalf was currently maintaining. And so he offered her his arm to lean on.

She eyed it warily, but also with some confusion as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it. ‘Is this you showing off your magnificent armour or…?’ Her voice trailed off hesitantly.

Surprised he had to even answer that question, he replied with a curt: ‘You need the help, Miss Andrews. You can’t walk on your own.’

He received the full benefits of her most annoyed glance. ‘Now don’t _you_ start as well!’ she complained.

What was this? He was actually trying to make an effort to be kind to her. Mahal knew she deserved it after her brave actions today, and here she was, insulting him. ‘You do not wish for my assistance?’ The question was asked in a voice that Kíli used to call dangerously low.

Kate snorted. ‘I have the entire company fretting over my health already,’ she clarified. ‘I thought I could at least rely on you not to fuss.’

A small smile tugged at his lips. He had known already that Miss Andrews hated to be in the centre of all the attention, lashing out at those that tried to give her more attention than she liked. He had just not realised this attitude also extended to when she was injured, but now that he came to think of it, it made some kind of sense. He recognised that same hate of fussing in his own character.

‘This is not fussing,’ he informed her.

She snorted again. ‘That’s right,’ she muttered. ‘You don’t do fussing. You just snap and order and make us all go on till we drop onto the ground in exhaustion, but you certainly do not fuss.’

For a moment he thought she was insulting him again and he was fully prepared to react to that, when he saw the teasing smile on her face. So he favoured her with a guff look, but no a tongue-lashing. The events of the past day had made that fragile truce into something a little stronger, a frail alliance if you liked. She was still too weak to hold her own in battle, but she had saved the life of one of the members of his company when he himself had been unable to and for that he owed her. She may not want to be here, but she had gotten herself injured whilst saving a life and that had to count for something. He may not like her book or her very presence in this company, but after today he had to be more civil to her than he had been before. He would be to anyone after they had proven their worth and Miss Andrews could not be the exception to that rule.

‘And you would rather die from exhaustion and injury than let anyone take care of you,’ he countered.

Kate gave him a mocking glance. ‘Is that the pot I hear, calling the kettle black?’ she inquired sweetly.

This wasn’t their usual exchange of witticisms, not quite. It missed the harsh tones, but Thorin found that in this very moment he could not really care about those things. He blamed the exhaustion and relief at having successfully escaped their attackers. No doubt they would resume their usual arguments after they had rested.

For now they just followed the others, albeit at a slower pace because of Kate’s ankle. The woman was obviously in pain judging by the expression on her face, but he knew better than to ask if she needed assistance. No matter how weak and injured she might be, she would still bite off his head for having the guts to fuss over her, even if he was not really fussing at all.

The solution to this problem presented itself about five minutes later. They were slowly descending into the valley and there were trees now on either side of the road. It wasn’t long before Thorin spotted a relatively long thin branch lying beside the path. A storm might have blown it from the tree. It wouldn’t be too heavy and it seemed to be of the right size.

He picked it up, examined it for a moment and then all but shoved it into Kate’s hands. ‘Take this,’ he told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘And what am I supposed to do with this?’ she questioned.

The dwarf was severely tempted to roll his eyes. ‘Use it as a walking stick,’ he instructed her impatiently. ‘With the pace you’re maintaining we will not reach the end of this path before nightfall.’ The stick would be able to make her move faster than she had until now. She would go even quicker if he had been allowed to help her, but as it was, he did value his head.

Kate took it and let her eyes wander over it. ‘An oaken branch,’ she muttered, amused. ‘How appropriate.’

Thorin refrained from commenting on this, merely raising an eyebrow at her. ‘If you are quite finished talking to yourself, perhaps we can move on,’ he told her brusquely.

She shot him an irritated glance. ‘I never asked for your company, you know.’ The tone was a bit snappy, but blessedly deprived of the usual sharp edge. Nevertheless she did as he had advised and started moving again. And they indeed proceeded faster now. They were still a long way behind the rest of the company – they could see their backs somewhere in the distance – but they weren’t falling further behind either.

And that made Thorin feel slightly more at ease, if only slightly so. The further they went into the elven territory, the more he wanted to make a run in the opposite direction. He had the unnerving feeling that he was being watched by hostile eyes, even making him feel like he could be pierced by an arrow from behind at any moment. Why in Durin’s name had he even agreed to Gandalf’s latest foolish scheme? They should never have come here at all!

So when there was noise coming from the forest around them it took all the self-control he possessed not to jump and swivel around to see where it was coming from. Kate too seemed to be ill at ease, although that might be the natural result of her condition as well. But then she tilted her head and started to smile.

‘Why are you laughing?’ he demanded.

‘They’re singing,’ she said in an amazed voice. ‘Listen.’

He felt hardly inclined to do as she asked, but he obeyed nonetheless, and found that she was right.

 

_‘O! What are you doing?_

_And where are you going?_

_What goal are you pursuing?_

_We have no way of knowing!_

_O! Tra-la-la-lally,_

_Here in the valley!’_

 

Thorin could make out the words and the melody now that he strained his ears, even though he had still no clue as to where the song was coming from. Maybe it was this blasted forest or even this entire valley. There was magic here. He could feel it in his bones and if anything, that only unsettled him more. This place wasn’t natural.

And the song went on.

 

_‘O! Where are you going_

_With beards all a-wagging?_

_Your pace is slowing_

_And your steps are dragging_

_Into the valley_

_In June_

_Ha! Ha!’_

 

Kate frowned. ‘Is it just my imagination or are they actually insulting us?’ It was a small wonder this got to her since she was obviously the one slowing them down, even if Thorin didn’t really blame her for it.

‘They are elves,’ he therefore told her. ‘That is what they do.’ And this completely ridiculous song was the very least of their offences. Thorin had no trouble in naming at least ten other ones.

The young woman only huffed. ‘And to think that I actually thought I would like them when I met them,’ she muttered under her breath.

That had him frowning. ‘Why in Durin’s name would you like them?’

Miss Andrews shrugged. ‘The author of the book wrote about them as if they were very interesting,’ she replied. ‘But I guess that if they think they should greet us with insult, I might need to change my mind.’

Somehow he quite liked the sound of that. They didn’t speak anymore as they preceded further into the elven realm, the song still audible in the forest around them. It varied from those minor insults to downright nonsense. To other people it might have been beautiful, peaceful and cheerful, but to Thorin it served only as a firm reminder that he was deep inside his enemy’s territory, where he should expect no warm welcome whatsoever. He walked faster, ignoring the fact that his companion was not quite able to move so fast with her injured ankle.

‘Slow down, will you?’ came the indignant protest in the end. ‘You may be perfectly able to walk as if the devil himself was at your heels, but I am not.’

He slowed his pace, but only a little. ‘I remember you saying you hadn’t asked for company,’ he countered.

She deflected that with ease. ‘But I’m not exactly refusing it either.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And like you, I’m not really anxious to be here out on my own.’ When he gave her a quizzical look, she added: ‘Well, it is a bit weird, isn’t it? The singing?’

He realised that if Miss Andrews had noticed his behaviour it must be far too obvious and so he resigned himself to falling into step with her, wiping all expressions from his face. He was the leader of the company and he did not show fear.

Kate gave him the smallest of smiles before her face twisted in pain again as she made a wrong movement. She bit her lip. ‘And all those insults are getting really on my nerves. How about we give them a taste of their own medicine?’ The pain was still there, but it was mingled with a mischievous twinkle that he could not remember ever seeing there before.

‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.

‘Well, if they keep serenading us, it seems only fair we return the favour, don’t you think?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, but sang a verse of her own as soon as the singers in the woods had finished one of theirs.

 

_‘O! What are you going on about_

_With that song we’re not enjoying?_

_You lot are too loud_

_And downright annoying_

_Right here in the valley_

_Ha! Ha!’_

 

Thorin tried and failed to stifle a smirk at her bold words. The elves fell silent and somewhere down the road the company skidded to a stop as Gandalf turned around to send her a glare that could well be described as deadly. But after a few moments the elves in the woods started to laugh and then Gandalf relaxed as well.

And somehow, for the first time since they had entered this accursed place, it seemed to Thorin that maybe this was not as bad as he had feared.

 

***

 

Rivendell was a marvel, Kate pondered as they crossed the bridge leading to some kind of round terrace. Thorin and she had caught up to the rest shortly after her singing. Apparently they had only become aware of their absence then and Dori had made it his personal responsibility to apologise to her for not thinking about her sooner. In tenfold.

It wasn’t that she disliked the dwarf. She appreciated his caring, she really did, but the idea that his fussing could be too much for some people seemed not to have occurred to him yet. Kate was actually grateful for the stick Thorin had found for her. It was easy to handle and allowed her to walk on her own. If she didn’t know better she would have said Thorin understood her better than any other in this company. But all their arguments in the past week were evidence to the contrary, so she quickly dismissed that thought. No doubt the dwarf was grateful that he didn’t have to support her again like he had when they were running from the wargs.

He of course had left her to Dori and his fussing first chance he got, too preoccupied with looking around him in suspicion, hands dangerously close to his weapon. He wasn’t the only dwarf ill at ease; most of the company was glancing around them, giving every impression of wanting to be somewhere else. Kate was a bit surprised to find that she was no real exception to this. Rivendell was beautiful and peaceful, that was undeniable, but it was unearthly so. Something about the light, the buildings and even the very air made her feel like this place was not meant for mortals. She did not belong here.

For the first time since being thrown into Middle Earth she really felt like she was in another world. Dwarves, hobbits and wizards were not races that were known in her own world, but in a way they felt as normal human beings with all their good and bad sides. The elves, she felt, would be vastly different.

Gandalf was the only one who behaved as if he were at home here. He leaned on his staff casually, a smile on his face. No doubt he was congratulating himself on getting them all here, despite Thorin’s continued protests. She shook her head, trying to determine what on earth she was supposed to think about him. He had abducted her, tricked her and forced her to go on a quest that might just get her killed, yet she found it almost impossible to remain cross with him. Maybe that was because she knew deep down that the wizard meant well. He stood guard over this world, but she would really appreciate it if he at least told her why she was here.

‘You all right, lass?’ Dwalin asked her.

Kate could only just refrain from raising an eyebrow in surprise. The warrior was never that talkative, and definitely not to her. He thought her a nuisance and a liability and if today hadn’t proved him right, she wouldn’t know what would.

‘I’ll be all right, thanks,’ she told him. _As soon as I can have a bath, some clean clothes, some food and some real good painkillers._ The headache was bearable now, faded to a dull throbbing in the back of her head which she could easily ignored. Her other injuries were another matter entirely. The cuts on her shoulders hurt, even if they had stopped bleeding now, her ankle protested loudly against every step she forced it to take and her belly was worst of all. It had been doable up to the point that she had been running to the tunnel with Ori, but then she had fallen on it, sending stabs of pain from the already sore spot to the rest of her body, making walking a complete nightmare. Ranting against Dori’s bloody fussing and arguing with Thorin and Gandalf had kept her mind away from it, but Dwalin asking about it made it somehow all the worse. ‘And tanks so much for reminding me,’ she added in a low growl.

He ignored that. ‘Kíli told me what you did out there,’ he said.

Kate sent him a glare. ‘Except that I didn’t,’ she retorted. Much as she would like to get some measure of respect from him – because it would make life in the company so much easier – she didn’t want to get it by lying. ‘I stepped down a rabbit hole and tripped, taking him down with me. It wasn’t intentional and it wasn’t heroic. It was a stupid bloody accident!’

Her voice had been rising throughout that speech, but only when she had finished it she realised that the entire company was staring at her. She quickly looked down at her boots to avoid their inquisitive stares.

Fortunately for her, help was coming. An elf was descending the stairs with more grace than any real person had a right to have. He exchanged some words with Gandalf, but Kate was too far away to hear what was being said. She had noticed that her companions were grouping together and that once again she ended up with Ori and Bilbo, the other weak ones, forced into the middle of the group.

‘Honestly, do they think that one elf is going to kill us all the moment they let us out of their sight?’ she mumbled under her breath, so softly only her fellow victims-of-fussing could hear her.

The next moment she wished she hadn’t spoken. A horn sounded behind them and that seemed to send the dwarves into full battle mode. They formed a circle, squashing the three of them together in a way that would have been considered extremely compromising in normal situations, but now sent pain through her entire body as someone poked something against her sore abdomen.

Of course it had to be the pain in the arse king as well. ‘Get off me!’ she hissed at him. ‘You’re hurting me!’

She only got another glare for her troubles. ‘You could get hurt if we break ranks,’ he hissed at her.

She tried to shove him, but it took more than that to get him to move. She could have been pushing against a solid wall for all the good it did. ‘You’re hurting me now, you big oaf!’ she shot back. ‘And they’re not going to hurt us. Now will you kindly just bugger off?’ She hit her fist against his armour, which only succeeded in bruising her own hand. The dwarf probably hadn’t felt a thing.

He did the thing he clearly did best: he ignored her. The elves had surrounded them by now and he had clearly more important thing to do than to argue with her. And even Kate had to admit that there was something very unnerving about these elves on their horses. Her height had not really been an issue in the company where only Gandalf was really taller than she was, but right now, she felt strangely small and insignificant. Maybe it had not been such a good idea to insult them with her song after all…

But as it was Lord Elrond didn’t even look at them. He started a conversation with Gandalf in his own language, plainly ignoring the fact that there were more people here than just his warriors and the grey wizard. It seemed downright rude to Kate.

It was only when Elrond remarked on the presence of Orcs so close to the border that they switched to the common tongue again.

‘Ah, that may have been us,’ Gandalf admitted, even though if Elrond had half a brain he would have arrived at that conclusion approximately five minutes earlier.

The elf now turned to face them – finally – and the dwarves lowered their weapon and broke the formation, for which Kate was grateful. The irony, so she now saw, was that Thorin had poked her with her own backpack, that he for some reason was still carrying. How strange things could be every now and then.

She was about to exhale in relief when she was startled by a hand slipping around her wrist.

‘What are you doing?’ she hissed.

The owner of that hand did not even bother with an answer. ‘Stay close,’ he ordered her.

She couldn’t suppress another snort. ‘And here I was just about to go and explore the place.’

Thorin ignored that too, all but dragging her with him a few steps closer to the elf lord. His grip was rather firm and she was sure it would leave some kind of bruising, but telling him that would probably be just as useful as her attempts to shove him away.

Elrond glanced at her, but then his gaze shifted towards Thorin. ‘Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin,’ he said, more courteous now.

But Thorin was not in the mood for being courteous now, it would seem. ‘I do not believe we have met,’ he told Elrond bluntly. Kate would have kicked him if she thought he would actually feel that and she would be sure she would not injure herself any further in the process.

‘You have your grandfather’s bearing,’ Elrond replied calmly. ‘I knew Thrór when he ruled under the Mountain.’

Thorin’s most icy stare never as much as wavered, even if it failed to have the desired effect on the elf. ‘Indeed?’ he asked in a disbelieving voice. ‘He made no mention of you.’

Elrond ignored the words as well as the stare, returning his attention to Kate. ‘I do not believe I know your name, my lady.’

‘My name is Catherine,’ she replied automatically. She didn’t really know why she used her full name. She hated hearing it most of the time, because she thought it both too long and too aristocratic to fit her. In her world she only ever used it for those people she didn’t really like. But that was strange, because she didn’t really dislike the elf. But it just came out that way, so she stuck with it, hoping Thorin wouldn’t act too surprised. ‘I am from Bree, my lord.’

Elrond nodded slowly, although she did think there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. But she could not be sure. The elf’s face was practically unreadable, which was frustrating in and out of itself. He gave her the impression he saw far more than she was prepared to let him see. Why on earth had lying seemed like a good idea again?

But it didn’t last long. Thorin took over the conversation again. ‘The Lady Catherine was injured on the road,’ he said. Nothing in either his tone or his face betrayed that he was the least surprised about the name she had given to Lord Elrond.

Kate could only just stop herself from raising a quizzical eyebrow when Thorin referred to her as a lady. Maybe it was just one of those customs here and after all Elrond had started this himself by calling her _my lady_. She let it go for now. She wasn’t in the mood to correct him now.

Elrond was quick to offer them both food and the services of his healers and Thorin accepted, albeit grudgingly. He really was a proud dwarf, Kate had come to learn. It must have cost him a great deal to swallow his pride and ask for help, never mind asking help from those he considered enemies. But she had also come to learn that he cared for his company above everything else. He was a true leader in that respect and it made it easier for her to see why these dwarves had all followed him on a near impossible quest. Good grief, he even cared for her even though he hated her with a passion. That had to be saying something.

‘If you would follow me, my lady?’ the other elf – Lindir? – asked. He seemed a nice enough fellow, even though his manners were a bit stiff.

Kate nodded. ‘Of course,’ she replied, making to hop over to him, only to discover that Thorin had yet to let go of her hand. ‘Ehm…’

But the dwarf wasn’t even looking at her. He stared at the elf with his most icy look, the one that might even have Gandalf look away. ‘She travels under my protection. Treat her ill and you will answer to me,’ he warned.

The elf simply nodded, even if he did look rather uncomfortable under Thorin’s intense gaze. ‘No harm will come to her here, Thorin Oakenshield,’ he promised, holding a hand over his heart.

It was only then that Kate’s hand was released. She rolled her eyes at the dwarf and then followed the elf to the healers.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _This is worse than I could possibly have imagined._


	13. Dinner Talks

**Chapter 13**

**Dinner Talks**

 

_I can’t say what a relief it was to finally get some painkillers. The healers laughed a bit at my surprise at how well their medicines worked, but then went on with their job. They made me take a bath – against which I surely was not protesting – and then cleaned the cuts on my shoulder and bandaged them. They scolded me for walking so long on that injured foot, to which I am ashamed to admit I snapped at them what else they had wanted me to do: sit down and ask the wargs kindly to wait and attack until I was fully recovered? The elven healers just shook their heads and went on with their work. They treated me like I was some rebelling child, which vexed me all the more. Although, in hindsight I might have to admit that I was acting like one._

_Rivendell felt to me like a safe haven, a place to rest in spite of the insults and silly nonsense that the elves had greeted us with. They were nice enough to me and I supposed their less than complimentary behaviour earlier was only due to the fact that elves and dwarves had never been particularly fond of one another._

_All in all, the elves made me feel rather welcome. I only wish the same could be said for the rest of the company…_

 

Thorin was too restless to remain seated. He blamed the fact that he was in a strange elven city for that. It felt unnatural to him and the very idea that it was practically infested with the people he considered enemies didn’t make it any better.

The rest of the group didn’t seem affected by it. They were laughing and talking again, washing the dirt of the road away or seeing to the injuries they had sustained during the encounter with the orc pack. Ori had some nasty scratches, as had Dwalin. They had come out of the fight more or less unscathed for the rest. Thorin supposed that they had indeed been very lucky. Things could have been far worse.

Not that this knowledge did anything to put his nerves at ease. The elves had offered them their hospitality, that much was true, but Thorin was no fool. They had only done so for Gandalf’s sake. Had the dwarves turned up without the wizard he was one hundred percent sure his company would have been sent away immediately. It only strengthened his resolve not to let Lord Elrond anywhere near his map, even if that meant he had to take Kate’s word for the message it contained. That was in this case definitely the lesser of two evils.

Her absence was getting at his nerves as well. For all intents and purposes she was a member of his company now. She had signed the contract and in her own unique way she had gained a place among them. No matter how much he told himself that she was a burden, she had helped a lot in their encounter with the trolls, even when she could and should not have come to their aid. Saving Ori today, even if only the result of an accident, was another thing that had gained her respect. The woman had her uses and therefore it was his job to worry about her wellbeing.

And the fact that the elves had taken a member of the company and had so far failed to return her was making him restless. She had not been that badly injured. He tried to suppress the irrational theory that the elves had abducted her, knowing that Gandalf never would allow such a thing to happen to the advisor he had chosen, not after he had gone to such trouble to get her here in the first place.

The general mood was cheerful again now that they temporarily didn’t have to worry about being torn to bits by overgrown wolves. Bombur, Kíli and Bofur were by far the loudest of the merry band, laughing at their own jokes, exaggerating how many wargs and orcs they had been able to kill. Thorin was sure they were exaggerations, because if they had all killed the number they had claimed to then the orc pack would have been killed in its entirety, four times over.

He was startled when something crashed to the ground. A quick look over his shoulder taught him that once again it was Miss Andrews’s backpack. Ori, having tripped over what appeared to be his own feet, crashed into the pile of luggage and sent it flying to the ground. Fortunately all the bags remained closed, save for Kate’s. The contents sprawled all over the place.

‘I am really sorry!’ Ori started to apologise.

Thorin silenced him with a look. He needed only three big steps to reach the mess. ‘You may sit back down,’ he told the company’s scribe, a little too harshly perhaps, but he was not going to tell the dwarf why.

His eye caught the dreaded book and he all but snatched it off the floor to avoid people getting a closer look. For all their arguments about it, no one in the company apart from Gandalf, Kate and Thorin himself had realised that the knowledge Kate claimed to have stemmed from a book she was carrying on her person, nor did they know that this knowledge had the alarming tendency to come true. Thorin wasn’t anxious to change that situation. It might cause panic to break out among his men when they learned what lay ahead. Sometimes it really was better not to know what was still coming. Thorin hadn’t even read much of what was written, but those bits and pieces had haunted his dreams of late and he didn’t wish that on his companions.

‘I can help,’ Ori offered.

Thorin conjured up his most reassuring expression, something Balin used to joke about, since in his opinion that would still send most people running for the hills without as much as a second thought. ‘You have been injured,’ he told the scribe. ‘Take a rest.’ It was more of an order than a suggestion.

And indeed Ori made for his brothers without questioning the command, leaving Thorin to repack Kate’s bag. Once again he marvelled at the rubbish she had packed in it. Why would she be so attached to a few books or a kind of box that could not open?

He gathered her water bottle and the books and stuffed them back inside, not feeling the need to further investigate the other books for fear they also dealt with events that still had to happen. So far he had only seen and heard about just one book, but he wasn’t sure that was the only one. They had never really discussed the subject anyway. The book only seemed to come up in arguments and that was hardly the time to learn of such matters.

This would have been the end of it as far as the dwarf was concerned, had not a stray piece of paper fallen out of a book onto the ground. Now of course he could have simply picked it up without looking and put it back where it came from. Thorin blamed a natural curiosity for the fact that this was not what he really did.

One side of the paper was blank, the other side was not. It was some kind of painting, Thorin supposed, although it had to be the most detailed, lifelike one he had ever laid eyes on, more lifelike even than the many paintings that graced the elven city.

Kate was on it, her arms wrapped around a young man around her age on one side and an elderly woman on the other. In the painting she was laughing carelessly, something Thorin had never seen her do for as long as he’d known her. As far as he knew grumpy and irritable was her default setting. But she was happy there, happy and at ease in a world where she did belong.

His eyes wandered to the man next to her. He too was laughing, resting a hand on Miss Andrews’s shoulder as if it belonged there. On this painting it was hard to know for sure, but Thorin deemed him taller than the company advisor. He had brown hair, even curlier and messier than Kate had. It were his eyes that really caught the attention. They were of the same shape and colour as Kate’s. Thorin thought it a reasonable assumption that he must be the brother she had mentioned.

And that would make the woman on Kate’s other side their mother, because her eyes were identical to those of her children. She had straight brown hair that was starting to show streaks of grey. She too was laughing at the painter.

It was a happy family, Thorin decided, trying and failing not to feel at least a little bit jealous of that. It was a familiar feeling by now, one that he did not show to others. He could simply not afford to show his feelings. But it still hurt to see families complete, happy with one another, when his own had so cruelly been torn apart by the dragon and by war.

He studied the small picture again and corrected himself. This family was happy, but it was not complete. The father was missing. He recalled Kate mentioning her father only once, just before Fíli had barged in with the news of the trolls. But he had only heard the last few sentences, not the entire story. He now wished that he had.

He was still staring at the painting when Balin came to stand next to him. ‘Interesting things there, laddie?’

Thorin could hardly suppress a smile at the word. He might be the heir to a noble house, yet that would never have any effect on his oldest friend. To Balin at least he would always remain a lad. And in more ways than one it was a relief to be just that, to not just be a leader and king to everyone in this company. He would not have it any other way.

‘A painting.’ He shoved the object into Balin’s hands for him to study. ‘It seems very… real.’

His friend nodded. ‘Aye, it is.’ He motioned at the picture. ‘Never seen that lass smile like that since we’ve known her.’ Thorin chose not to comment on that, having reached that conclusion approximately five minutes earlier. ‘That must be her brother. And her mother.’

He frowned, deciding to just ask what he wanted. ‘Where’s her father in all this?’

If the elderly dwarf thought something about this question he was wise enough to keep his opinion to himself. ‘Long gone, she said.’

‘He died?’ At least he could relate to that. He was quite sure Thráin had been killed by now. Years and years had passed since the battle of Azanulbizar where he had gone missing. No word had reached him of his whereabouts or wellbeing ever since. It would only be realistic to assume that he was gone.

‘He might as well be,’ Balin shrugged. ‘Kate told us he’d been kicked out by her mother after he cheated on her. She said she doesn’t even know where he lives these days.’

The situations of course were vastly different and yet it was another thing they seemed to have in common, the dwarf pondered. There seemed to be a great number of those things these days: their dislike of Gandalf’s scheming, their dislike of elves and now the missing father, who could still be alive, but neither knew for sure, Thorin because he had no way of knowing and Kate because she didn’t care to.

He only realised he had missed out on Balin’s question when the other dwarf shot him a quizzical and amused glance. But he’d die before he’d admit that he had not been listening, so he gave his demanding look by way of a reply.

And Balin, knowing him like no other, complied with an indulgent smile. ‘You do know what impression you gave to the elves by acting like you did with Miss Andrews, don’t you laddie?’

Thorin raised an eyebrow. For once he had absolutely no idea what Balin was talking about. ‘I treated her as I should have,’ he replied. And he had. She was a woman, no matter how much he disliked the very idea of having a female in his company, and she had been injured. He had been brought up to care for those two specific groups and he took it that the elves too held on to such standards.

‘That is not what our hosts seem to think,’ Balin said. He didn’t meet his king’s eyes, but Thorin could swear that he was amused. ‘I overheard some of them talking a while ago and they were quite convinced you were married.’

Taking a sip of water had not been the best decision in hindsight. He all but choked on the liquid now. He, married to Miss Andrews? What in Durin’s name had given them that idea? It was absurd to say the least. ‘I take it you corrected them in that bold assumption,’ he told his companion. He kept his voice calm and steady, even when he was trying to think up one reason why the elves, meddling beings that they were, had been able to come to such a conclusion.

It was unheard of. Strangely enough that was the first thought to enter his mind. He didn’t even like the advisor. He respected her, which was another thing entirely. But there was no attraction between them, none at all. She was too human for his tastes, just as he was sure he was too dwarvish for hers. There was no physical attraction between them. Their races were too different. They didn’t hold charm to the other race.

And their characters were too different as well. Both of them had a temper, he would admit that much, but that was about it. And then there was a huge age gap between them as well. Thorin would never call himself old, but he did call her young, barely considered an adult.

He shook his head at the foolishness of the elves. His esteem of them had never been high, but now they had surely gone up in the top ten of stupid creatures, as Kate would like to phrase it. He had helped the advisor on the road down into the valley and he had told the elves to take good care of her before he had let her go to their healers, but he would have done the same for any other member of this company, because that was what it meant to be a leader: you looked after those you were responsible for.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Balin’s answer. ‘I did do no such thing.’

Thorin’s head swivelled in his friend’s direction. ‘Why?’ he demanded. He knew that look and he knew that he did not like it either.

‘There are certain advantages to the elves believing this theory.’

Now Thorin’s jaw dropped. He could not even believe that he was even discussing this with Balin. ‘Explain yourself,’ he ordered. Slipping back behind the mask of the stern leader was his way to deal with things he did not know how else to react to. Balin of course knew that, but he still grimaced at the harsh tone.

‘She is a woman travelling with a group of males,’ Balin pointed out. ‘The elves do have a sense of propriety. They would not ask questions if they are convinced that she is married.’

Bloody elves. ‘It is none of their business what goes on within this company,’ he growled. Not to mention that the elves thought so lowly of them. Thorin was convinced that not a single one of his men harboured such thoughts towards the advisor, not even the younger ones. She was a daughter of Men, after all. They didn’t think of her like that. It was not in their nature. ‘And if they protest, Gandalf will set them right,’ he added.

It had been a mistake to come here at all. He knew trouble would come from this, albeit it was not in the way he had imagined. Lord Elrond had not asked for the purpose of their journey yet, but it would seem that he was already fretting over the propriety within the group.

‘Gandalf is only one,’ Balin reminded the dwarf king. ‘And we are in the very heart of the elven kingdom, not in a position to argue should they decide to interfere.’

There was logic in this reasoning, as much as Thorin despised it. Never in all his days would he have believed that the real trouble they would encounter in this unnatural feeling valley would be of such a nature. He had anticipated them trying to stop the quest, not them interfering in personal affairs that did not even exist to begin with.

‘It matters not anyway,’ someone behind them remarked with humour. ‘You already bicker like an old married couple.’

The voice had been hushed, so Thorin could not be sure, but he was very much convinced one of his nephews was to thank for this disrespectful remark. Apart from the fact that no one else would have dared to say such a thing when he was still within earshot, only Fíli and Kíli could ever come up with such a comment.

He was about to give the speaker a tongue-lashing, but someone beat him to it. ‘As much as I’d like to ask who you’re talking about, I’m not really sure I want to know,’ an amused voice spoke up.

Thorin turned around to see the advisor standing at the entrance to the courtyard they were in. She grinned at Fíli, who had turned a shade of bright red in embarrassment. ‘About that…’ he began.

Kate shook her head. ‘If it’s that bad, I really do not want to know, Fíli.’

She looked better than she had, Thorin observed. The elves had let her bathe. Her still damp hair fell around her shoulders in red curls. The brownish shade to it must have been the result of the dirt on the road. Her facial colour was back to normal and although she still leaned on the stick he had given her, she seemed to have less difficulty walking. Some elves had taken her other, slightly larger bag, from which she had taken her clothes. They must originate from her own world, because he had never seen any woman wear that kind of clothing in all his life and Thorin had travelled far and wide during the years of exile. In a way these clothes seemed to fit her better than the ones she had purchased in Bree. They clung to her like a second skin, highlighting her fragile frame. For a human she did look almost pretty now. Almost.

‘I can see why the elves reached that conclusion,’ someone muttered. ‘Just look at his face.’

Kate too caught that comment. ‘Guys, as intriguing I am sure this is, do I really need to know about it?’

Thorin shot them a warning look. The elves could, as Kate would say, go to hell with their farfetched theories and their meddling in affairs that did not concern them. ‘You don’t.’ It was an answer to her question and an order to the rest of the company at the same time.

Kate didn’t miss that. She shot him a questioning look, but obviously changed her mind when she saw him still holding the painting that had been in her bag. ‘Are you planning on making it a habit to go through my things whenever I leave my things with you for even an hour, Mr Oakenshield?’ she demanded, shooting him a glare while she was at it.

‘It fell out of your bag,’ Thorin replied icily, all the while wondering why he was even answering. He was the leader, for Durin’s sake. That should earn him at least the privilege to avoid answering questions if he so chose.

She hopped over, still leaning on the stick heavily. ‘Well, if you’re quite finished going through my family pictures, I’d like it back, please.’ Just as his requests were often more demands than requests, so were hers. ‘And maybe you should stay clear of them in future.’

Well, in one thing he had been right, Thorin supposed. Subdued Kate had been washed away with the dirt of the road. Things were back to how they had always been and in a way this was strangely comforting. It made the very notion of the two of them as a couple even more insane than it had been only a few minutes ago.

 

***

 

Dinner with the elves was a rather strange affair, Kate decided. Oh, the food looked good enough and the music sounded very elvish and rather beautiful. And Kate would be lying if she said it wasn’t a relief to be able to sit on a proper chair again, eating food that they did not need to prepare themselves over a smoking campfire.

Lord Elrond and Gandalf had not yet arrived, no doubt discussing matters of great importance. Kate hoped to God the wizard was not revealing the nature of the quest. She wasn’t sure Thorin’s already tried nerves could handle it. The dwarf seemed on edge, jumpy even. She knew he didn’t like being here at all, but it would seem she had underestimated the strength of those feelings. The elvish betrayal must have hurt him deeper than she had believed possible. It made him look, for lack of a better word, human and not like the untouchable confident leader of an impossible mission. He was ill at ease here, more so than when the wargs had chased them across the plains.

Thorin, she decided, liked to be in control of a situation. When the wargs attacked he had known what he was doing to a certain extent and it was within his power to change the situation even. Here he didn’t have that luxury.

‘That looks good,’ Bilbo remarked, staring at the food.

‘Please, be seated,’ one of the elves present invited. ‘Lord Elrond and Mithrandir will be joining you shortly, but he has given you leave to start eating in his absence.’

‘Given leave?’ came the low growl from Dwalin behind her. The warrior had no love of elves, Kate knew, but even she had to admit that she wasn’t particularly fond of them so far.

She had long been wondering what she should be thinking about elves. She knew Thorin greatly disliked them, although that seemed to be something of an understatement if his face was anything to go by, but that Gandalf held them in high regard. And the knowledge she had brought with her from her world wasn’t helpful in this particular case either. Tolkien had described them as fair and wise, but with a love of nonsense and silly songs as well, whereas the movie had left her with an impression of creatures of an almost unearthly nature that were a bit self-serving to say the least.

Upon examination she learned that those two visions weren’t necessarily contradictory. The elves were all those things and to Kate they were all the more unpredictable for it. The healers that had helped her were indeed so beautiful she would almost become jealous of it and they spoke with the wisdom of millennia. But the next moment they would suddenly burst into song that didn’t even have to have a defined subject. It was enough to make Kate feel not completely at ease with them around. But they were good beyond the shadow of a doubt, just different, she supposed.

Nevertheless she would probably be glad when they left this place again. The elves radiated something, an air of being somewhere high up in the pick order of the world. It may not even be intentional and of course it was simply true, which made it all the more annoying actually. Their behaviour, that seemed so contradictory at times, was just another thing that bothered her, but perhaps, when one lived as long as they did, one would simply have the time to be both wise and foolish, sometimes even at the same time.

At any rate the elves succeeded in giving her a newfound appreciation for her own companions. They were blunt and downright rude at times, but they were also far more down-to-earth than their hosts, which made her capable of relating to them more easily. And, even though she’d die before she admitted it, it had been a relief to be back with them after the hour with the healers. Their laughter and brusque manners felt familiar by now.

‘Well, it is his house after all,’ she muttered back at the dwarf. And when she saw his disapproving stare, she added: ‘But you’re right, he _does_ sound rather arrogant.’

Dwalin snorted, but the gaze softened somewhat. ‘That’s elves for you, lass.’

Kate chuckled. ‘I believe Thorin already said as much.’

The elf with his sharper hearing could probably hear every word they spoke, but fortunately he did not feel the need to comment on it. He did however give them a pointed look which told them all they needed to know. Dwalin and Kate both saw it and both of them ignored it.

 _Finding common ground in dislike of elvish manners_ , Kate thought wryly, trying and failing to prevent the corners of her mouth from curling up. _Who’d have thought?_

But they were all hungry enough not to refuse a meal when it was offered to them, no matter how arrogant the offer. Kate saw the small table that was set for the important people and the bigger one for the rest. Quite frankly it seemed absurd to her that they should eat separately, but in this case it was probably best to go with it. She wasn’t home anymore after all. Different worlds, different customs. She would just have to learn to live with the differences until Gandalf saw fit to return her home.

She made to follow Dwalin and Balin, using the stick to put as little weight on her injured ankle as she could. The elves had stabilised it with a lot of bandages, but she still needed the stick if she didn’t want to hop around the place like a limp rabbit until the time it was fully healed.

Her plans were thwarted by a hand that grabbed her free wrist, yanking her back so forcefully she almost lost her balance. ‘Where are you going?’ a low voice demanded.

Kate didn’t even turn around at the speaker. ‘Why do you insist on asking these ridiculous questions?’ she hissed. ‘I don’t know about you, but I am actually starving right here, so I’d kind of like to get some food in my stomach if that’s okay with you.’ She had no idea what he was playing at here, but it was getting at her nerves a lot. She must have missed the moment when he had become so protective of her – or maybe it was just that whole she’s-a-woman-and-she’s-injured business coming into play – but it wasn’t as if she was about to be abducted by their hosts the moment he let her out of his sight. And since the crisis was over she assumed the same would be true for their temporary truce. ‘Now get off me!’

Thorin, as per usual, ignored her. ‘You’re to sit with me,’ he told, or rather _ordered_ her.

‘No, I’m not!’ she protested. She might not have the movie within reach, but she was convinced only three people were to sit at the “special” table and she was about to tell him so when her eye fell on it. No, she was neither blind nor forgetful, but it had been set for four people. Kate didn’t have a clue as to whose bright idea that had been, but she was not pleased. She would have to dine with a moody dwarf king, a scheming wizard and a far too observant elf lord? Had being chased by wargs and fussed over by dwarves not been enough of a torture already? ‘Can’t you take Balin or something?’

The look in Thorin’s eyes was probably best described as murderous. ‘No, you headstrong woman,’ he hissed at her. ‘It is meant for you.’

She eyed him wearily. ‘If this is about the whole she’s-a-fragile-injured-woman-so-she-can’t-sit-with-the-normal-guys business, you’ve got another thing coming!’ she threatened, although she had no way to make good on that threat. But then, it was the idea that counted, right?

One corner of his mouth curled up, as if she had said something incredibly funny. ‘No, I promise it is not about that.’ The other corner joined in the smile.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Am I missing the joke here?’

He ignored her, as he was prone to do whenever he didn’t want to answer, and Kate decided to leave it for now. Moody and irritable as the man was, he had saved her life today, so she guessed she owed him. And if she was to sit through a whole meal with him, she could better start working at appeasing him. Things would be bad enough without them having a glaring contest over the salad, which seemed the supper’s main ingredient.

Besides, she didn’t really hate him, not anymore. True, he could be as infuriating and blunt as he had ever been, but then, so could she be. And they had worked together several times now and to her surprise it hadn’t actually killed her. And he did have some good qualities. He did genuinely care for the members of his company and he could make the difficult decisions whenever necessary. He would make for a good king if he actually put his mind to it, she supposed.

‘Have it your way,’ she muttered under her breath as she slid into her seat, putting the stick down next to it. ‘Wow, a real chair. I think I had almost forgotten what those felt like,’ she added in a lighter voice. If she was going to make an effort to be nicer to him, she might as well start right away.

Thorin surely had not seen that coming. He gave her a confused look.

Kate shrugged. ‘I’d rather you sink your teeth into your salad than that you use them to bite my head off over dinner.’

His eyes were still cold, but his mouth curled up again. Kate considered it progress. ‘I can’t seem to decide which looks less edible,’ he remarked dryly.

This was the banter as Kate remembered it, albeit without the venomous undertones and accompanying glares. _I might get used to this_. ‘The orcs might dispute that,’ she countered. ‘I’m quite sure of their answer to that question.’ She poked around in her food. From somewhere behind her she could hear Ori complain about the amount of vegetables on the menu and she couldn’t even really blame him for that. This _was_ a lot of salad. She huffed. ‘If I’d wanted to become a vegetarian I would have told them so,’ she grumbled. ‘Someone who doesn’t eat meat,’ she clarified when she caught Thorin’s puzzled gaze. Ten to one that those were a rare breed among dwarves, if they existed at all.

‘If only the orcs could convert to the elvish eating habits all our problems would be solved,’ the dwarf replied. He was still acting like he was sitting on a hedgehog instead of on a comfortable chair, but he seemed more relaxed than he had been a few minutes ago. This whole exchange of witticisms seemed to do them both a world of good.

Kate chuckled. ‘If only.’ She frowned as the subject almost automatically led her to a thought that had occurred to her as she had been bathing. ‘I do wonder where they came from though.’

The light mood disappeared with that question. This was after all a serious subject, something that was not to be joked about, especially not when in the presence of one Thorin Oakenshield, who hated Orcs with a passion.

‘Those lands are crawling with Orcs,’ the dwarf replied gruffly, attacking his salad as if it was somehow its fault that they had been ambushed.

Kate shook her head. ‘That was not what I meant,’ she said. ‘It was something Gandalf said shortly before we left. _You are being hunted_ were the exact words, I believe.’

That caused him to look up. ‘You know something.’ It wasn’t a question. It was a conclusion. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Kate bit her lip, not completely certain it would be wise to share this piece of information. Or rather, not certain whether to share this piece of information right here and now. Thorin might just choke on his meal. ‘I think so. I am not entirely sure. The two versions of the story do disagree on this subject.’

But Thorin was no fool. ‘You may not be sure entirely, but you are almost sure.’

She tried to deflect the unspoken demand. ‘I was under the impression you did not care for my knowledge.’

He ignored that. ‘Tell me.’

Kate glanced over her shoulder, but neither Gandalf nor Elrond was anywhere in sight and most elves kept as much distance between the company and themselves, as uncomfortable in the dwarves’ presence as the dwarves were in theirs. So she leaned over and lowered her voice. ‘One version of the story, the only one in which we were chased here by wargs actually, claims that these orcs were under the command of one Azog the Defiler.’

The shutters came down. ‘Azog is dead.’ His voice was hushed too, but no less furious for it.

Kate glared at him. ‘Well, someone sure as hell is setting these orcs on us and please forgive me if I say so, but I heard Dwalin say that the place we had made camp was safe and then I heard Elrond tell Gandalf that orcs don’t usually venture this close to Rivendell. So, orcs don’t come in this area normally and you’ll have to admit that this group seemed alarmingly organised and bloody hell-bent on catching us. And didn’t Kíli say that they preferred to kill defenceless people in the dead of night? We are by no means easy victims, are we? Then why would they pick such a well-armed group?’

Her reasoning was good and she knew it. And by the looks of it, so did Thorin, even if he did not want to accept it. ‘Azog was killed at Azanulbizar.’

Kate wasn’t actually convinced of that. Where it came to Thorin’s archenemy the movie did not seem to be far off the mark so far. ‘You hacked off his arm at Azanulbizar,’ she corrected him. ‘You didn’t _see_ him die, did you?’

She thought she saw him pale for a moment, but it was over before she could be certain. ‘I did not,’ he replied stiffly. ‘That does not mean he did not die, Miss Andrews. Such wounds are almost always fatal.’

 _With almost being the operative word in this case_. But she decided to let go of this one. Thorin was the kind of person that needed to see things before he believed them. ‘Forget Azog,’ she said. ‘But you’ll have to agree that someone sent that orc pack after us. It would be far too much coincidence.’

Thorin seemed uneasy for a moment, but then nodded. ‘I agree.’

 _Alert the press_. That must be a first. ‘Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘How did they know where we were? This quest is secret, right? Then how on earth would the orcs know to look for us on the road?’

The question had been bugging her ever since she had gone to watch the movie. Unless Azog had developed supernatural powers in the past decade she didn’t think he could have predicted that Thorin would go on a quest to the Lonely Mountain. Someone must have alerted him to it. That would be the only explanation for this situation that made sense to her. Unfortunately it was also the most frightening possibility.

Thorin’s stare would have killed her if looks would possess such power. ‘Are you saying that someone betrayed this quest to the orcs?’ he demanded in a fierce whisper.

She grimaced. ‘Believe me, I’m not exactly doing a happy dance around the table either, even if I were capable of doing so with this bloody ankle.’ She speared something that looked like an olive on her fork. ‘But it would make sense,’ she insisted. ‘I don’t think they just happened to come across our trail.’

As much as Thorin obviously didn’t want to agree with her, he had to. At any other moment in time she would have felt triumphant for that, but now she would have liked nothing better than to be wrong.

‘Do you know who did tell the orcs?’ It was all too obvious that he didn’t like to rely on her knowledge, but, as in earlier crises, he forced himself to at least hear her out.

Kate shook her head, eating the olive, only to come to the conclusion that it was definitely not an olive, but something she seriously disliked the taste of. She forced herself to swallow it quickly, since spitting it back out would probably be frowned upon here. ‘I don’t have a bloody idea. It’s kind of a plot hole in the movie. Something that is never explained,’ she added when she realised he had no idea what she was going on about, again. ‘But nevertheless it is the only thing that would explain what happened. Someone must have run to the orcs to tell them about the quest.’

Thorin sent her his most disapproving stare. ‘I trust each and every member of this company unconditionally,’ he told her, almost daring her to contradict him.

 _I wonder if that statement applies to me as well?_ ‘I wasn’t talking about the company!’ she protested, a little too loud perhaps. To be honest, the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She took a deep breath to avoid things from boiling over. This was hardly the time or the place to get into a shouting match with him, not with so many elves around. ‘It is not the company that worries me,’ she reassured him. ‘But you did tell your kin, didn’t you?’

Now it was Thorin’s turn to be mad at her. ‘Are you now trying to get me to believe that one of my own kin betrayed me to that orc scum?’ The tone was both angry and disbelieving.

 _Yes, that’s exactly what I am thinking_. It would however do her health no favours to tell him that. ‘I am not trying to make you believe anything, you big oaf!’ she hissed back at him. This might not become a shouting match, but a hissing match wasn’t out of the question apparently. ‘I am trying to be helpful here! And while we cannot imagine someone talking to the enemy, I think you’ll have to agree that _someone_ must have been spilling the beans.’

Thorin still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced, she could tell. Good grief, she would want nothing more than not to be convinced either. The possibility wasn’t exactly welcome to her.

‘The quest was a complete secret,’ Thorin told her sternly, but the tone was doubtful and she could hear it.

‘You said there were envoys of all seven kingdoms at that meeting in the Ered Luin,’ Kate countered. ‘I hardly call that a secret.’

He glared at her. ‘They are my kin,’ he said as if that was an explanation in and out of itself. ‘They can keep a secret.’

Kate grimaced. ‘ _“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead,” said he to his companions, and knocked them on the head_ ,’ she quoted. ‘Is there no one you think could have been an Orc spy?’

The answer to that question was clear as daylight in his eyes, even if he did try to hide it from her by warily studying the food in front of him. He did know such a person and he was not about to share that with her. But Kate could not care less really. Thorin, she had come to see, needed time to think things over sometimes. And she herself definitely needed some time to process this. Because if someone had given away their journey and destination away to Azog, then how much did he already know and how would that affect their quest?

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Why couldn’t that bloody wizard just wait until all three movies had been released before he spirited me away to help on a sodding quest that seems to follow the movie for an alarming amount of the time, and does whatever it wants for the rest of it? I’m going completely blind here._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piece of “poetry” Kate quotes is No honour among thieves, John O’Mill, Rollicky Rhymes in Dutch and double Dutch, page 53. I’m afraid most of his work is only funny when you speak both English and Dutch, but never mind.


	14. Acts

**Chapter 14**

**Acts**

 

_The rest of dinner was an even stranger affair after Elrond and Gandalf joined our company. Thorin was still mulling over my words, which had shocked me as much as him, to be quite honest. Up till then I had never given it very much thought at all, but the longer I pondered it, the more likely it became that someone indeed had been a little too friendly with the orcs, although the reason why anyone would want to associate with those disgusting creatures kept eluding me._

_But this was not the reason why dinner was so strange to me. That had more to do with my companions’ behaviour than anything else. It started off with Lord Elrond giving me these looks that told me that something about me was wrong or at least very unusual. I wasn’t sure whether to comment on it or ask about it. For all I knew that would be considered rude. I was after all far from an expert on elvish etiquette._

_No, it was only when both Gandalf and Thorin started to act out of character that my alarm bells really went off. They had seemed to agree on something – using a few meaningful glances and nods of the head, even though Thorin appeared to be only reluctantly agreeing – right before we had started eating. It was all very annoying, since I seemed to be the only one not knowing what on earth was going on. It made me feel incredibly stupid and unobservant._

_Knowing what I know now it only seems too obvious. I should probably have caught on long before I eventually did, but back then it took me all the self-control I possessed not to let my jaw drop in shock when Gandalf cheerfully informed Elrond that Thorin and I made for such an excellent team. In my experience we were anything but. Knowing Thorin and his dislike of me as I did I expected him to be the first to contradict this ridiculous statement right away, so I could hardly believe my own ears when he actually agreed._

_Now I was certain that they were up to something, but just as I was about to finally ask what was going on – and to hell with elvish etiquette – the grey wizard cleverly steered the subject away from the whole fabulous non-existent team…_

 

‘We had a few questions to ask of you,’ Gandalf told the elf lord just as things started to become so incredibly awkward that Kate was about to forget everything she had ever learned about politeness and just demand what everyone was talking about that she so obviously wasn’t aware of.

Gandalf’s question however stopped her dead in her tracks. Was that old man totally insane? She knew that sometime during this dinner he was going to bring up the riddle of the map, as she had secretly dubbed it. But that was not going to happen now, because they had agreed – or rather: Thorin had decided – that they were going to do this her way, which meant that they were going to lie to Elrond about the reason they were even in Rivendell. Lord Elrond would not even be informed of the existence of the map.

Next to her she could see Thorin had tensed as well. He was holding his fork so tightly that Kate half expected the thing to break in half with the sheer force of it. He wasn’t speaking – yet – but his face was speaking volumes.

‘What kind of questions, my friend?’ Elrond asked. If he was aware of the murderous glares Thorin was unleashing on both the wizard and the elf he didn’t show it. Kate knew from experience that those looks were particularly difficult to ignore. It was the kind of look that seemed to burn holes in your skin even if your back was actually turned on him. It was the look Kate had often been favoured with.

‘Just something about the identity of some weapons we recently found,’ Gandalf smiled innocently.

Thorin relaxed, but only slightly. Kate herself could have banged her head against a wall for not remembering that one before. Of course they would get to that before the map was even discussed. She still wouldn’t put it past Gandalf to bring the subject up, but at least for now they were in calm waters again.

Kate frowned as Thorin, although still not entirely happy with the situation, handed his blade over for careful examination. She knew what was coming, so she allowed her thoughts to wander. Oh, she was determined for the wizard to keep the nature of the quest a secret, all right. What puzzled her was the reason behind it. To be quite honest, she wasn’t even sure there was a reason at all. True, she did not want to sneak away under cover of darkness because a certain White Council was planning on stopping them from going, but that wasn’t all there was to this.

The frown deepened as she listened with half an ear to Elrond telling them the names of the weapons, trying to think of an answer that made even the slightest bit of sense. Because no matter what happened here, in the end it did not really concern her. She would go home after all this business was finished. Gandalf had promised her that and Kate was determined to keep him to that promise. So why would she get so worked up about something like this? Did she relish the verbal sparring? Yes, she did, she supposed. If she didn’t she would have kept her mouth firmly shut, no matter what her personal opinion on the subject was. But that couldn’t be all there was to this, right?

‘Catherine.’ Her full name startled her, snapping her out of her analysis. To her surprise it was Thorin who had spoken. _Whatever happened to the use of my surname?_

‘Yes?’ she asked. She wiped the frown off her face.

‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Gandalf asked.

She flashed him a quick and fake smile. ‘Just thinking,’ she replied. ‘Anything the matter?’

‘Your sword, show it to Lord Elrond,’ the wizard told her.

 _And whatever happened to asking nicely?_ But this was not really the time to start another fight. _Choose your battles, dear, and choose them wisely_ , her mother had once advised her. Some piece of common sense told her that fighting a battle with a meddlesome wizard over dinner with several elves present might just reflect badly on her. So she picked up the sword and handed it over.

‘Interesting,’ Elrond said, unsheathing the blade and examining it closely. He remained silent for a while, looking at it from all possible angles.

The silence started vexing Kate. ‘And what is so interesting, if I may be so bold to ask?’ she demanded. ‘The way the light falls on it perhaps?’

She had spoken in a rather loud voice she realised as she could hear some of her companions behind her try and fail to stifle their laughter. Gandalf favoured her with the stern grandfather look, but Thorin quickly averted his head in order not to show his amusement. Whatever kind of new truce had come from the mutual agreement of not shouting over dinner, it apparently meant that he was allowed to laugh at her sarcasm, as long as it was not directed at him.

‘It is a companion to Orcrist,’ Elrond replied, wonder in his voice.

Kate frowned. ‘Companion?’

‘Made by the same smith at the same time,’ the elf lord clarified.

She weighed the chances of coming across as exceptionally dim if she asked what on earth that was supposed to mean, but since she was a woman, she didn’t think it would be that bad. Women weren’t supposed to know about swords in this world, were they? ‘And this is important, because…?’

The elf shook his head. ‘It seems… fitting,’ he said, although that wasn’t anywhere near an answer in Kate’s opinion. She took the sword from him again, preparing to demand more of an explanation, but Elrond’s attention had already been directed at Gandalf again. ‘How did you come by these?’

‘We found them in a Troll hoard on the Great East Road,’ the wizard informed him.

‘And what were you doing on the Great East Road?’ Elrond’s eyes darted towards Thorin. There was some suspicion in them and Kate didn’t think Thorin would miss out on that, especially not since he probably expected the elf to behave like this.

She was not disappointed. ‘I was not aware our business is any of your concern,’ he growled in as condescending a tone as he could get away with without being called rude.

‘Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves,’ Gandalf muttered. ‘Your pride will be your downfall.’

Kate privately agreed. Thorin was acting rather stupidly, but then Elrond was behaving as if he owned the road, which he didn’t as far as Kate was aware. ‘No, he’s right,’ she interjected, whilst at the same time wondering why she even stood up for him. ‘Our business is our own and while we are eternally grateful for your aid and hospitality, we are not in the habit of sharing our activities with someone we barely know.’ Not that this was entirely true, because in a way she did know him. She was however not about to go and tell that to their host. It was the elvish arrogance that vexed her, she decided. They seemed to act as if they had a right to know what everyone was doing and why.

‘I meant no offence, my lady.’ Elrond inclined his head, if only slightly. ‘It is curious though for dwarves to venture this close to our borders.’

‘We would not have come here at all if it weren’t for those orcs,’ Kate countered, which just so happened to be true, or that was what she thought at least. Thorin would never have gone anywhere near elves if he could have helped it and she started to see why that was the case, more and more by the second. Maybe she should add nosy to the list of elvish characteristics. ‘And you can be assured we won’t burden you too long with our presence here.’

You’d say the elf understood a dismissal when he heard one, but either he didn’t or he chose to ignore it. ‘My people might be of assistance to you.’ _If you would just tell me what you were up to._ His manners were nice enough, Kate would never argue that point, but she had some experience in coaxing information out of people herself, enough to recognise when someone else was doing it, and Elrond was hardly subtle about it.

Thorin’s face seemed to have frozen into that angry scowl permanently. ‘We will be on our way as soon as Catherine’s ankle is fully healed,’ he told the elf. It sounded rather strange to her to hear him actually say her name, and her full name at that. She had become used to Miss Andrews and headstrong woman or some variations to that theme. Well, wonders never ceased it would seem. ‘We do not need further assistance.’

Gandalf rolled his eyes at both Thorin and Kate, making her realise that for once they were actually on the same side. Again. It looked like it was becoming some sort of habit for them to present a united front against outside forces, which for now would include the company’s wizard.

It was a tricky thing, that truce between them, she pondered after dinner, staring out over the serene beauty of Rivendell by starlight from a terrace near their camping place, leaning on the balustrade. It was undefined, not even really discussed. One moment it was there and the next would find them shouting at one another as if they were born to do so. But the crises brought them together, at least as allies. Maybe it was some sort of present-a-united-front-to-the-enemy thing. Kate wasn’t really sure. She made a mental note to ask someone like Balin about that soon.

‘Catherine.’ Thorin’s voice startled her.

‘Whatever happened to Miss Andrews?’ she asked without looking away from the scenery.

She could hear his boots on the stone floor, coming to a halt next to her. ‘You never mentioned this name to any of us,’ the dwarf pointed out. There was some wariness in his voice.

Kate snorted. ‘Because I don’t like hearing it,’ she countered. ‘It’s too long. I don’t know what my mother was thinking, burdening me with a name like that.’

She could almost hear him frown. ‘You dislike the name you were given?’

Oh, crap. Would that be considered inappropriate in dwarven society? She sincerely hoped not. ‘Not really. It’s just too long for everyday use. I like it shortened a bit.’ She risked a glance to him and saw the disapproval still firmly etched in his features. ‘Even my mother only calls me Catherine when she’s angry with me, you know.’ He was still not convinced and she laughed at how stubborn he was about it. ‘Catherine is only for formal introductions and people I don’t particularly like. Kate is for friends.’

One eyebrow was arched. ‘You regard me as a friend?’ The tone was definitely disbelieving now.

She thought about that for a moment. ‘Not quite,’ she told him in the end. And that was the truth, because she did not like him. He was not the kind of person she would end up befriending. If things were actually normal she might even have stayed away from him on purpose. But things were not normal and they had to make the best of a situation neither of them wanted to be in. ‘But I don’t really hate you either. Not that it is really relevant, since you insist on calling me by my surname only.’ She thought for another moment. ‘I think that we are at least allies most of the time.’ She looked at him to see if he agreed to that, not entirely sure what she wanted or expected. Him accepting an alliance would mean an end to the fighting, but part of her would miss that fiery verbal sparring.

The reply was a nod. No words followed, but Kate told herself she should not have expected that either. Heaven only knew how much it had cost him to even acknowledge this arrangement, especially since she was pretty sure he still was very much opposed to her even being with his company.

‘Allies it is then,’ she decided, unsure if she should even say anything.

It turned out that she shouldn’t. ‘You still should have told us,’ Thorin growled.

It took a moment to sink in, but then she understood. ‘This is about me not telling you my full name?’ she asked disbelievingly.

He gave her a curt nod in reply. ‘I might have been able to anticipate what you were doing in the courtyard if I had known. These small details are important to know for when we find ourselves in such a situation again.’

He might have a point with that and Kate might even have said so had his words not reminded her of something. ‘Yeah, since we’re talking about informing each other, could you enlighten me as to what the hell was going on at dinner? Because unless I am extremely forgetful, we certainly are nowhere near an excellent team and you would be about the last person I know who could ever agree to something this absurd.’

It was silent for so long that Kate almost thought he was going to ignore her again. Well, there was nothing new there, but she was getting tired of all this business that she was giving answers and he was giving away nothing at all that she wasn’t really surprised anymore. It seemed part of his personality to be temporary deaf whenever someone asked something of him which he didn’t want to give.

It didn’t mean however that this was any less annoying. ‘Maybe I should just go ask Gandalf,’ she muttered angrily. She didn’t think that was going to be helpful in this case, but Thorin’s taciturn behaviour just made her curiosity ten times worse. She had actually no idea what was the matter, but it had to be something serious. And she had just about enough of it. ‘Or even better, Elrond.’ Her voice rose, but she doubted their companions could hear it. They were too busy producing noise in their camping courtyard.

She turned around to make good on her threat when a strong hand grasped her wrist in a death grip. ‘You will do no such thing.’ The voice was low, but all the more dangerous for it.

Kate wriggled and struggled, but it was of course no use at all. Thorin was far too strong for her. ‘Will you let go off me, imbecile?’ she hissed. ‘Or do you perhaps plan on informing me what the hell is going on?’ He neither moved nor spoke. ‘Didn’t we just agree on being allies?’ she cried out, once again trying to break free. ‘How on earth are we going to be that fabulous team that Elrond now thinks we are if you insist on not sharing the details of your plans with me?’ It was perhaps slightly below the belt, this remark, since he had only accused her of doing precisely that hardly five minutes ago.

‘It is not my plan, woman,’ he snarled at her.

At least that stopped her dead in her tracks. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she demanded. ‘And can you let go now?’

He released her without another word, folding his arms across his chest as he was prone to do whenever he faced something really unpleasant. For some reason Kate didn’t think she was the object of his dislike this time. There was something about her question and his response to it that made her believe that somehow either Gandalf or Elrond was involved. Or both, she added wryly to herself.

‘The elves,’ Thorin began, speaking those words with all the loathing he could muster.

Kate tilted her head. ‘The elves _what_?’ It could not possibly be that bad, could it?

‘The elves are convinced that we are married.’

It took Kate some moments to process this revelation. And when she had her first impulse was to laugh at the absurdity of it. ‘ _We_? Married? Good grief, they’ve gone mental.’

The realisation that this perhaps was  not as funny as she thought it to be followed several moments later when Thorin didn’t join in the laughter. She’d have thought that he would at least think this amusing, another piece of evidence that elves clearly were not in their right minds. But he stood there, unmoving, arms still crossed over his chest, only arching one eyebrow at her.

She fell silent. ‘Hang on, you’re not joking?’ That idea was so completely insane that it came out as a question. But Thorin’s expressionless face was more than enough answer in and out of itself. ‘You’re serious?’

It had her staggering back a few paces. The bad thing was, now that she was over the idea that this was a joke, in some ways, when you didn’t know them as their companions did, it would even make sense for them to be together. Thorin had helped her down into the valley, being the only person to walk slow enough for her to keep up with. And then there was that weird display of hurt-her-and-I’ll-hurt-you-harder before the dwarf had allowed her to go with Lindir to see a healer.

And some of the elvish behaviour now made sense as well. No one, surprisingly, had asked her what she was doing in a company of male individuals. To Kate it had become almost normal by now, but she supposed that when one lived in Middle Earth it was highly unusual for a woman to be travelling with only men for companions. It would only be acceptable if one of those men was the woman’s husband. And if the elves really believed her to be married to Thorin, then that would also explain why she had been invited to dine at the “special” table instead of at the other table with the rest of them and why Elrond had thought the fact that her sword apparently was the companion to Thorin’s fitting.

What didn’t make sense in all this was Thorin’s own behaviour. Not only had he conveniently kept her in the dark about this non-existent relationship, he had made things worse by acting as if this was actually real. Gandalf’s behaviour she could understand to a certain extent. He was a scheming bastard as far as Kate was concerned, with ulterior motives she didn’t even want to begin to understand, but Thorin was another matter entirely. So far he had never even given the smallest hint that he actually liked her, never mind in such a way. For him to go with this idea was weird, out of character even, she supposed.

But the confusion swiftly gave way to anger, an emotion she knew how to deal with. ‘And you did nothing to set them right?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You let them go on thinking that we are a couple even when we’re not?’ She was aware of the fact that her voice was rising, but she could not care less. Nothing about this sounded even logical to her. She didn’t even like Thorin and she wanted to pretend to be married to him even less. ‘Well, even if you are perfectly content to lead them around by the nose, fine. But I’ll have you know that I am not about to be looked at as your _wife_!’ She spoke the last word as if it was some kind of contagious disease, which wasn’t far off the mark to her anyway. ‘First chance I get, I’ll tell them. I have no idea what the hell you’re playing at, but I will not be part of it, thank you very much!’

At least that got a reaction out of him. All this while he had been standing there silently, waiting until she was done voicing her displeasure. Now the anger crept back onto his face and his hand gripped her wrist again as she turned to storm off to find the first elf she could find to correct this error here and now. ‘You will do no such thing,’ he commanded her.

She turned around, his grip on her arm yanking her back, bringing her face to face with him. ‘Give me one good reason why not,’ she demanded in a low hiss. The urge to hit him was growing, but if she was really honest the confusion was more dominant now than the rage. Why was he so opposed to rectifying this mistake here and now? Clearly not because he was so fond of her, that much was sure. But there had to be some reason why he was all right with letting the elves think they were a married couple. Somehow this didn’t reassure her at all.

‘Because the elves do not think it proper for a woman to be travelling with only men when she isn’t related or married to one of them.’ The answer was as predictable as it was annoying. Blasted elves and their stupid sense of propriety. In normal situations they might have been able to pass her off as a distant relatives, but since they were of different races that was out of the question. A fake marriage would be the only option left to them.

‘Then tell them to bugger off and keep their noses out of our business!’ she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. ‘It is none of their business, quite frankly, and _you_ should have told them so, even if Gandalf didn’t!’

‘Foolish woman,’ he growled at her. Even if this was an improvement – he was not calling her a girl anymore – it still succeeded in getting on her nerves. ‘Have you forgotten we are in the heart of their kingdom? They can do whatever they like here and we will not be able to stop them.’

Kate frowned, not understanding what he was getting at. ‘And this would be a bad thing, because…?’ She let her voice trail off, leaving it to him to fill in the rest, because she sure didn’t understand why the elves were even so concerned about all this. So yes, they might voice their disapproval of the situation, but they weren’t in any position to do anything else about it, were they?

‘Because, woman, they would never allow an unmarried woman to continue to travel with a group of men that she is not related to,’ Thorin barked at her.

And Kate could only stare as that realisation started to dawn on her.

 

***

 

Thorin could hardly believe that he was even having this discussion. He already regretted even answering her question in the first place. He should have stuck with his earlier plan of leading the elves on without letting Kate know what was going on. That was a tricky path, but preferable to this awkward situation.

Miss Andrews stared at him, jaw dropped, as she finally seemed to understand the real situation here. ‘You mean, they would not let me continue the journey with you guys unless they were convinced it was _proper_?’ The last word came out as if she thought it the most disgusting thing she had ever come across. Thorin found he started to share that particular sentiment.

‘I do believe so,’ he replied with a curt nod of the head.

‘That’s disgusting!’ Kate commented. The dwarf was unsure if she meant the elves’ behaviour or the idea of them being married with that. He thought it wiser not to ask. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. Personal disgust aside, this was a situation they needed to deal with and he thought Miss Andrews at least understood the need to play along for the sake of the quest.

She folded her arms across her chest in a way not unlike he was used to do. ‘There’s not much choice, is there?’ She still sounded unhappy about the entire situation, but Thorin’s assessment seemed to be accurate. Maybe she did care about the quest more than she let on. He had been wondering, maybe even hoping, if she would not choose to stay behind with the elves, maybe because she hoped that Gandalf would send her back home now that she would not be able to accompany them any further.

‘Not if you wish to remain with this company,’ he pointed out, trying to trigger her into being honest about her motives.

She snorted. ‘You can stop looking at me like that,’ she told him angrily. ‘It’s not like I am that anxious to go on your sodding quest. And I don’t think you’re that eager to hang on to me either. But I am even less eager to be left behind with this bunch of singing lunatics, believe me.’

‘Gandalf would probably send you back home,’ Thorin felt obliged to point out. And part of him would be very glad if that was the case. Miss Andrews and especially that book of hers that so often seemed to be right were getting on his nerves more every week. Thorin supposed that he might have liked her had they met under different circumstances. But that book, that so inconveniently predicted his death at the end of the journey, spoiled every possibility of friendship for him.

‘Would he now?’ Kate said wryly. ‘You should know what he is like. Right now, I have a deal with him that he’ll send me back home when this is all over, as long as I do what he brought me here to do. I have no guarantee whatsoever he’ll still send me back if I don’t keep up my end of the bargain.’ She hit the nearest wall in frustration. ‘No matter how much we want to be rid of one another, it looks like you’re stuck with me for now.’

It made sense for her to behave like that, Thorin supposed. He would not give up his only chance to get home again either, which was why he had gone on this quest in the first place. It was disturbing that they once again seemed to have found some common ground, but for now it at least meant that their course of action was clear.

‘We’ll need to keep up the pretence,’ he told her brusquely.

Kate nodded. ‘I suppose.’ She was carefully avoiding meeting his eyes, staring at the moon instead. ‘Which means that you will have to change your habit of addressing me by my surname, at least for as long as we’re staying here.’

Was she really telling him what to do and don’t? But two could play that game. ‘And you should probably stop hitting me,’ he countered.

Miss Andrews only nodded. ‘I am sorry about that,’ she admitted. ‘I should not have done that. You should not have been playing all that high and mighty again, but I should have had better control over myself.’

He waited. He knew the way she was talking, had overheard her doing so before.

‘For a moment your expression and words, they reminded me of the way my father used to speak to me,’ she confessed, proving him right in the assumption that she was going to explain eventually. ‘I just lost it, I guess.’ Her arms weren’t simply folded across her chest anymore now; she was practically bracing herself.

Thorin considered putting his image at risk by asking about the relation with her father, but decided against it when he remembered that this was actually none of his business. It was not relevant to the success of the quest. ‘Apology accepted,’ he nodded.

Kate did not react. She was still staring at the moon. ‘What’s today’s date?’ she suddenly asked.

Thorin frowned, not sure what had brought this on. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The date,’ Kate repeated, wrongfully assuming he had not heard her.

‘Midsummer,’ the dwarf replied. He decided to pull a leaf out of her book and asked: ‘This is relevant, because…?’

‘The map.’ Miss Andrews actually turned to look at him. ‘The moon runes, we should be able to read them now.’

The memory came to him now. She had indeed mentioned something like that when they had been examining the runes on the map in her book. But in all the general chaos he had almost lost sight of the date. If it weren’t for her, he would have wasted every chance he had of checking the message on the real map.

He nodded. ‘You are right,’ he agreed.

One eyebrow went up again. ‘Alert the press,’ she muttered.

Now it was his turn to be confused. ‘I have no idea of what you speak,’ he informed her.

She shook her head. ‘Never mind. I just meant to say that that hasn’t happened before as far as I am aware, you admitting I was right about anything.’

 _Don’t get used to it._ He however refrained from saying so, pulling out the map and unfolding it.

Kate curiously looked at it. ‘They really are identical, aren’t they?’ she whispered in awe.

He favoured her with a stern look.

The wonder disappeared from her face. ‘Sorry. Do you want me to leave?’

She sounded almost vulnerable now and for some reason he didn’t like to hear her like that. It was strangely unsettling to see this other side to her. He had grown used to the snappy woman who argued his every decision, who was one of the few that was as verbally strong as he was. In a way he even relied on her to be her irritable self. This behaviour was unlike her. ‘Stay if you must,’ he replied.

The spark returned to her eyes, along with the sarcastic smile. ‘I am feeling so very welcome now.’

He ignored that, taking a deep breath and holding the map against the moonlight that should reveal the runes that were still hidden. He hardly dared to hope they were there. He wasn’t even sure he should be hoping for their existence. Of course they would have their instructions for the opening of the back door, but the prospect of having to face that Miss Andrews’s, correction Kate’s – he had better start calling her by her given name since they were pretending to be married – book would be right about yet another thing, that was causing cold shivers down his spine.

For a moment nothing happened and some part of the dwarf was already ready to exhale in relief. The book had been wrong about this and if it was wrong about something this important, it might also be wrong about something as significant as his own death. He was not marching towards his own end with this quest.

But the relief was short-lived. It took another five seconds, but then the runes started to appear on the previously empty parchment. And even without reading them out loud Thorin knew what they said. _Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole._

Kate had spoken the truth.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _The woman really does speak truth. Can I still go on knowing what lies ahead?_


	15. Doubts

**Chapter 15**

**Doubts**

 

_We stayed in Rivendell for about a week and when the time came to leave, I found I was actually looking forward to it. The elves had treated us kindly, if with the air of people who think themselves far above the other people they’re dealing with. I found out that this behaviour did not have much to do with me, but more with the longstanding dislike between elves and dwarves in general, and since they considered me as good as a dwarf – because they still believed me married to one of them – they kept their distance._

_That non-existent marriage turned out not to be as bad as I had feared it to be. The elves left us mostly to our own devices, so the need to act was not that great. On the few occasions that Elrond did invite Thorin and me to dinner, we acted much the same as we had before: amiable, presenting a united front, but fortunately there wasn’t any need for affectionate gestures, for which we both were eternally grateful. I’m not sure either of us could have pulled it off at the time._

_It were our own companions who were a right pain in the arse in all this. For some reason many of them thought the act hilarious and they were all too quick to comment on how to behave. Most of these comments were made when Thorin was out of earshot however, which was probably for the best, since some of these “advices” might have just given him a heart attack. I also learned that it – of course – had been Fíli who had made the you-bicker-like-an-old-married-couple comment that I had walked in on our first night in the elven kingdom._

_And that held true for most of our conversations ever since. Thorin and I may have agreed on an alliance that first night, but we still had to act on it. Ever since then the dwarf king had been grumpy, ill-tempered and taciturn. Half of the time he seemed under the impression that I was personally responsible for every wrong in his life and the other half he disappeared for hours at a time._

_All in all the atmosphere was less than fine, since the leader of our company always managed to stifle all laughter with a single glance. Many of us, me included, wondered what on earth was wrong with him, but if we were hoping to get an answer out of him, we were hoping in vain…_

 

The sun had only just risen over Rivendell when Thorin looked out over the still sleeping valley for the last time. Behind him the company was breaking up the courtyard camp. They had been offered rooms, even if the elves clearly were uncomfortable doing so. He supposed it had been a relief for both parties when he had refused the offer, choosing to camp under the stars in a relatively private courtyard where they could all stay together, where he could keep an eye on his men. He did not even lie to himself about the real reason why he had chosen as he had. These dwarves were his responsibility now and he had almost failed at keeping them safe, twice now. And if Miss Andrews was right, his quest would lead them straight into battle and how many of them would die then?

He hit the wall in frustration. It all came down to that dreaded book in the end, didn’t it? It would be no use pretending that her book was not right anymore, not after he had seen the silvery letters appear on his map, almost to mock him and his denial of Kate’s knowledge. The map had been the test case and it had proven her blasted book right once again. It had been right about the trolls too. And it scared him, more than he was even willing to admit to himself.

He did not fear for himself, not really, not anymore. The prospect of dying was one he was all too familiar with. It came with the experience of years and years of fighting. He had been scared when he first found out about his death through that book, and while he still not liked the prospect, he had had some time to think in the past week. He had realised that he had long since accepted the possibility that he could perish during this quest. No one planned to take on a dragon and expected to come out of it entirely unscathed. It was the certainty of this death that the book foretold that had thrown him off balance.

No, he did not fear for himself, but he did fear for his company. What had he been thinking, taking them with him? Balin was too old for this, Kíli, Fíli and Ori too young, Mr Baggins was just plain useless and Miss Andrews would be as much use in battle as a new-born babe. Yes, they were loyal and absolutely devoted to the cause – most of them at least – but the fact remained that at least half of the company were not trained warriors.

And Kate’s book had spoken the truth about the moon runes. It had gotten the time that they would be able to see them right and the message had been right as well. The words were the same, not even as much one word had been different. And it scared him. It scared him so much that he had been moody and taciturn for the duration of their stay in Rivendell, apart from those times he had gotten into fights with the company advisor. They were back on their previous level of arguing: three times a day at least, loud enough to wake the dead, never ever agreeing on anything.

The worst thing about that was probably that he in a strange, very disturbing way cherished their arguments. They were familiar. He knew how to deal with them. Both parties knew what was expected, both of them knew how the other would react before they had even said something. And fighting with her made him feel like he was at least doing something to fight the chain of events that would eventually lead them all right into that battle that he didn’t want to know about.

‘Something on your mind, laddie?’ It was Balin’s voice that snapped him out of his musings in the end. He turned around to see his oldest friend standing some paces away from him, eyeing him with worry.

Thorin conjured up half a smile to reassure him. ‘Are they ready to leave?’ he inquired, ignoring the question.

Balin came to stand next to him. ‘Almost,’ he replied. ‘What is wrong, laddie?’ The voice was full of an almost fatherly concern and come to think of it, Balin sometimes was more of a father to Thorin than Thráin had ever been.

But he could not share this, this knowledge, with anyone. He would not burden his company with it. It was his to bear and his alone. It would be his responsibility to find a way around Kate’s horrible knowledge and then hopefully none of this group would ever know in how much danger they had been.

‘Nothing, Balin,’ he lied, keeping his voice calm and even.

The elderly dwarf’s eyes gave him the look that told Thorin he did not believe a single word of that. ‘Now don’t lie to me,’ he said. How he managed to sound caring and stern at the same time was entirely beyond the dwarf king, but he did. ‘You had a conversation with Kate on our first night here and ever since you have been what she calls on edge.’

It was slightly alarming how much influence Miss Andrews had on the way his men spoke. Her world must be a strange place, for she brought expressions with her that sounded completely bewildering to the dwarf. And the worst thing about this was that she got her companions to use those words and expressions as well. Just last night Kíli had been overheard to refer to the elves as ‘bloody’, Bofur had made ‘shit!’ his standard curse and three days previously Dwalin of all people had told Miss Andrews to ‘get this show on the road’ just before they went off to the training fields.

‘Not you too, Balin?’ he asked, arching one eyebrow.

His friend ignored that, knowing full well that Thorin was trying to find a way to avoid answering the question, thus probably confirming every suspicion he had about that conversation. ‘What happened there, Thorin?’

‘Nothing you need to concern yourself with.’ It wasn’t like him to be so dismissive towards his friend, but this was one thing that he could not bring himself to share. Balin was already the second caretaker of the company. He had enough burdens of himself to bear without shouldering Thorin’s as well.

But Balin was no fool either. It was almost scary sometimes the way he knew what was going on in Thorin’s head. ‘It’s about her book, isn’t it?’

The dwarf king swivelled his head in his direction. ‘How do you know?’ he demanded.

‘She mentioned it, the first night in Mr Baggins’s house,’ Balin reminded him. ‘The others don’t think much of it, but is true, isn’t it?’

Would there be any point in denying? Thorin didn’t think so and so he nodded. ‘All those things she tells me are going to happen have come to pass so far.’ It was the first time he said those words out loud and they hurt, Mahal, they hurt. ‘We cannot go on, Balin, not if what she says is all true.’

That thought had been sitting in the back of his head for some days now. He had been able to go into this with at least the hope of succeeding, hoping for a plan that would enable them to kill the dragon while they all survived. Knowing that such a plan would never work and that there would indeed be casualties was something else entirely. He himself was ready to lay down his life for Erebor, but he realised he could not ask the same thing of the others. Most of them had never even seen the Lonely Mountain. How could he ask them to die for a place they had never even laid eyes on? He couldn’t, he realised.

‘We’ve always known it would be dangerous.’ Balin laid his hand on his king’s arm. ‘We’ve always known we could die and we still chose to follow you.’

Thorin smiled, but it was a sad smile this time. ‘That’s it,’ he pointed out. ‘You follow me. You don’t fight for Erebor, but for me.’

Balin’s face told him he should have reached that conclusion several months previously.

‘I can’t ask you to do this, not for me,’ Thorin spoke softly. His heart clenched at the idea of abandoning the quest, but it was what was best for his people. Balin had spoken true that evening in Bag End; they did have a good life in the Ered Luin now. True, it wasn’t as rich and prosperous as life in Erebor had been, but they had survived, even thrived after a while. Why should he risk it all for a kingdom he may never even reclaim? Why would he ask these dwarves to follow him to their deaths when they had the chance to live?

The worst thing about it all was that they had never once questioned his motives or the quest itself. They had come when he had called them, trusting him with their lives. And now would he betray that trust by leading them to almost certain death? He was a king, albeit a king in exile, but a king nonetheless. He was responsible for them and to do this, that was not taking responsibility. It was as reckless as his grandfather’s scheme to reclaim Moria.

‘Who else should they be doing it for, laddie?’ Balin questioned, arching one eyebrow.

Their roles seemed to have been reversed, Thorin observed. Back in the Shire he had been the confident one, fully believing in what they were doing and the possibility of success. Balin had been the one with doubts then. And now Thorin found himself questioning his every decision and Balin encouraged him to go on. The world had turned upside down, or so Kate would say. It seemed a rather appropriate way of describing their situation.

‘For Erebor,’ Thorin replied. ‘For the prospect of having a homeland where they are welcome, where they can thrive, where they are not looked down upon by everyone they encounter.’ It only now started to dawn on him that probably none of them shared this dream. It was his dream and he had talked them into pursuing it with him, but it wasn’t their own.

‘You asked for loyalty, honour and a willing heart,’ Balin reminded him. ‘And they have all given it to you. They rely on you to make good on the promises you made to them, lad.’

Thorin sighed. ‘Even if I lead them right to their ends?’

That seemed to make Balin stop and think. ‘Is that what the advisor says?’

Thorin nodded. ‘Miss Andrews believes there will be a battle at the end of the quest.’ He looked right ahead to prevent Balin from seeing his disappointment. ‘Several of our number will die there, she says.’

He could feel his friend’s inquisitive gaze, even though he didn’t see it. ‘Do you believe her?’

‘How can I not?’ Thorin countered. ‘How can I not believe her when she has been right about everything else so far?’ He felt for the key hidden away in his clothing and pulled it out. Once, not so long ago, it had been a beacon of hope to him, a good omen, a sign that he was indeed meant to do this. Now it only served to remind him of what could never be. ‘Maybe someday someone will lead our people back home. I can’t do it.’

Balin too looked at the key. ‘Did Miss Andrews ever say that the quest would fail?’

No, she had not, Thorin knew, and he was fairly sure she would already have rubbed his nose in it if that was indeed the case. But he already knew that the price would be much too high. He could not be the one responsible for leading his kin to war and death again. His grandfather had done that and it had been the death of so many. _Our dead were beyond the count of grief_ , Balin had said when he related the tale of the battle of Azanulbizar to Mr Baggins. Thorin had long ago sworn that he would never again allow such horrors to happen, not on his watch, and he would stand by that oath, even if it meant giving up on his lifelong dream.

‘It matters not,’ he said. ‘The price is too high, my friend.’ He made to turn. ‘I’ll inform the men of my decision. We’re going back.’

Balin’s hand grabbed his wrist. For such an old warrior his grip was remarkably tight. ‘They won’t listen,’ he informed his king. ‘They’ll go on without you, if this is indeed your decision. They won’t turn back now.’

‘Why?’ Thorin asked. ‘You agreed when I said they were only following me. I am turning back.’

Balin shook his head, smiling in what appeared to be amusement. ‘We’re dwarves, laddie,’ he reminded Thorin. ‘We’re stubborn. We don’t change our minds once they’re made up. And we are of Durin’s Folk. Your grandfather used to say that those were ten times worse.’

He knew he was no different really, not when it really came down to it. That was why he had pursued this quest so fiercely in the first place. It was only the knowledge of the death of several of his companions that had swayed his mind. It was also the only thing that would ever have the power of doing that. Nothing else would ever have stopped him.

‘Then what would you have me do, Balin?’ he asked, deep down knowing the answer already.

‘Come with us, laddie.’ The answer was indeed predictable. ‘Lead us.’

‘To our deaths?’ he questioned.

‘If need be,’ Balin nodded. ‘None of us would think twice about it, you know that.’ The expression on his face softened somewhat. ‘But no future is set in stone, Thorin. We can make our own futures.’

‘But can we?’ Thorin asked. ‘So far everything that has been written in that book has come to pass. What makes you think we will be able to escape our fates?’ He could think of only one way and that was if they turned around now, before things could get any worse. Mahal knew that things had been bad enough already.

‘Gandalf brought Miss Andrews here for a reason,’ Balin pointed out, glancing over his shoulder to where she was busy collecting her luggage. The company’s advisor had won the respect of most dwarves by saving Ori, even if it hadn’t been intentional. But most importantly, she had chosen their side in the small conflicts they had with the elves. A common enemy, or common nuisance, did indeed unite them. Now she was chatting with Dori and Glóin, calling something out to Dwalin and laughing about a joke Fíli had just made. Right now she felt less like an outsider than Mr Baggins. Had Thorin not known better, he would have deemed her one of them.

‘Gandalf meant for us to make use of her knowledge, lad,’ his friend added when he did not reply.

And since when was it Gandalf leading this company? ‘Her knowledge doesn’t change things,’ he said curtly, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

The other dwarf sighed. ‘You do need to work together with her, not against her if you want to achieve the change, Thorin. I know you two don’t like each other, but for the sake of the quest?’

Thorin was pretty much convinced that this was called emotional blackmail and he could hardly believe that it was Balin who was using it. But the most annoying thing – because that was what it was: annoying – was that he was right. So far he had done everything in his power to ignore the knowledge the young woman carried with her. He knew he had only listened to her whenever their need was greatest, when all the other options were already tried, and had already failed. Only then had they been working together.

But he wasn’t sure he could do this. It had been hard for him already to accept that the book held true information, but it would be harder still for him to work with Kate. In doing that he would more or less allow her to decide their actions and Thorin had had more than enough of that with Gandalf already.

He caught himself already weighing his options, realising that going back was already no longer an option in his mind. Maybe that was all the answer he needed now. And Balin was right: even if he turned back, his men would not. And he could not let them go on their own. He needed to be there with them, to pursue his dream, even if that meant that he had to listen to Kate. As much as he hated that, he had decided long ago that he would do whatever it took to take back the Lonely Mountain from Smaug.

‘Very well,’ he nodded, keeping his expression as stern as he could manage even in the face of the relieved smile that Balin sent his way. ‘We’ll do it your way.’

‘You made the right choice, Thorin.’ Only a fool would doubt the sincerity in Balin’s voice. ‘We _will_ see this through.’

The dwarf king found it hard to doubt these words. They were spoken with such surety. Thorin wished he could feel something of it, for the doubt was still merrily gnawing away at him. He wasn’t convinced that he had made the right choice, because he wasn’t sure there was much of a choice to begin with. The words he had spoken in Bag End still held true: there was no choice for him. Either way people were going to make the journey to Erebor. There would be an attempt to kill the dragon and reclaim the Kingdom under the Mountain, with or without him. And he knew he could not stay away in that case. He needed to be there.

‘I know,’ he said, clasping the other’s shoulder. ‘We will see this through.’ _Or we’ll die trying._

 

***

 

If Kate were to say she wasn’t a little reluctant to leave behind the elven kingdom, she would be lying. She did regret the need to go on so soon again. It had indeed been nice to have a few days to rest and recover their strength. In Rivendell she could sleep in, eat well – even if the salad diet was starting to become slightly annoying – and spend some time on other things beside riding, eating and sleeping. Dwalin had taken it upon himself to teach her some more with the sword. In his own way he acted friendly towards her now and she was glad of it, because she had already seen that his opinion mattered to Thorin. It wouldn’t hurt to have him on her side.

But after Dwalin’s training there was still more than enough time for other things. She was still injured, as the elven healers never failed to remind her and her teacher, and therefore the trainings had to be short. She filled her time with reading the few books she had brought with her. In that activity she had soon found a friend in Ori. He was a scribe and therefore more than interested in books. And so they had made a deal: he would get access to her books – except one – and he would teach her some of the dwarven language and runes in return. Kate always had a knack for languages and it was actually nice to have something of a challenge put to her.

The deal was frowned upon however, as it was something of a dwarf rule not to teach their language to anyone who was not of their race. Ori foolishly – or conveniently – had forgotten about that and he had been thoroughly scolded for it by his brother. Balin had intervened in the end – since Thorin had been doing a disappearing act at the time again – saying that the deal had already been made and that there was nothing anyone could do about it now. They’d have to accept it now. The words had been spoken with a quick wink in Ori’s direction though, making Kate suspect he wasn’t as disapproving as he tried to come across.

‘We do need to keep those lessons up while we’re on the road,’ she told Ori when they were packing the last of the luggage. ‘Or else it’ll all slip away.’

‘I don’t think we will have much time…’ Ori’s voice trailed off.

‘We can talk while walking, can’t we?’ she countered. ‘Heaven knows I pronounce those words wrong all the time…’ And that had been a source of amusement for the rest of the company. Only two nights ago her attempt at speaking dwarvish had sent Bofur falling off his chair, clutching his sides and howling with laughter.

‘You’re not doing too bad considering, lass,’ Dwalin told her. ‘It took some far longer.’

‘Yeah, well, they probably didn’t have an entire week to sit back and do nothing,’ Kate retorted. She liked that he was being nicer, but now that it came to it, she had no idea what to do with his praise. ‘And it does help speaking the language with you lot.’ She shrugged.

‘You are good at it,’ Ori spoke up. Ever since shoving him out of the warg’s way she could do nothing wrong in his eyes, or in his brothers’, which was decidedly worse. ‘What kind of work did you do where you come from?’

‘I was a journalist,’ Kate replied, shoving the last things back in the rucksack. ‘Or trying to be one, actually.’ She caught their confused looks and could bang her head against the wall for not realising sooner that that particular profession did not exist in Middle Earth. She clarified: ‘It’s a bit like what you do, Ori. A journalist “collects” the news from all over the world and writes it down so that the other people know what’s happening.’ It wasn’t a perfect explanation, but it would have to do and at least it gave them some idea of her work.

Thinking about home wasn’t as painful as it had been either, Kate found. Now that she started to accept that there was just nothing she could do to change Gandalf’s mind regarding the time he sent her back, she had more or less resigned herself to it. It didn’t mean she suddenly liked it, but it did help her cope with the situation. And at least she could hope to get back home one day. She would have her family fussing over her, demanding to know where she had been. She would probably need to lie about that, because her telling that she’d made a trip to Middle Earth might just earn her a one-way ticket to the nearest mental asylum. But apart from that things would go back to normal over time. True, she would most likely be out of a job after such a long absence, but that she could do something about. The most important thing was that she would go back home. This was just her trip around the world, she supposed, even if it was a different world than her own.

‘You used to make journals like I am doing with this journey?’ Ori asked in a surprised voice.

‘Shorter articles mainly, but yes,’ she nodded. ‘There are some similarities between our jobs.’ She actually smiled when she saw the hopeful smile on his face. ‘I could help you every now and then if you’d like, although my handwriting is not as neat as yours, I’m afraid.’

The smile she got by way of a reply lit up the dwarf’s entire face.

‘He’s a good lad,’ Dwalin commented as the scribe walked off to assist Dori with something. ‘Not much of a fighter, but his heart’s in the right place.’

Kate nodded. ‘That sounds about right. Listen, Dwalin, I really didn’t know about that rule of not teaching outsiders your language. I would never have asked had I known…’

‘The fault wasn’t yours, lass,’ came the gruff reply.

She frowned at that. ‘You won’t go too hard on him?’

‘Careful, some folks might start to think you care about the members of this company.’ The warrior was gone before she had the chance to react.

Not that she did know what she was supposed to be saying to that anyway. Truth was probably that she did start to care for her companions. Not to do so would not only be pointless, but also foolish. She had not chosen to be here like the others, but it would be a lie to say that she had not grown to care for most of them. Thorin was still a pain in the backside, Gandalf she could not stand from time to time, Nori was a bit difficult to get along with after he had tried to take some of things of hers that most certainly did not belong to him and it was altogether difficult to communicate with Bifur, but with the rest she was more or less on friendly terms, even if they still didn’t like the fact that she was a woman.

‘Ugh, life is complicated,’ she muttered under her breath, swinging the rucksack on her back.

‘I am assuming you did not address me, my lady?’ Argalad, the elven healer that had treated her, asked with a serene smile.

‘You would assume right,’ she replied, feeling very uncomfortable indeed. She sometimes wondered if elves ever swore, or got really mad. She had only seen them in three different moods: they were either wise and serious, serene and smiling or happy and silly. Argalad seemed to be in the second mood and somehow it made her want to do something as irrational as shouting at him, if only to see if he was capable of any other emotion, even if it was only irritation. But that would most certainly make her look incredibly stupid, so she decided against it. ‘I’m assuming there is a reason why you are here?’

‘Only to advise you to not use your ankle to much yet, my lady,’ the elf replied smoothly.

‘Thanks to your Lord’s willingness to provide us with ponies I do not think that will be an issue,’ Kate remarked dryly. She was very glad indeed that the events seemed to be following the book in this case rather than the movie. Her riding skills were still not too great, but it was better than walking all day. She might as well enjoy it while she could. ‘Any other pointers you’d wish to give me?’

That was met by a blank face. ‘Pointers, my lady?’

‘Further advice,’ she clarified. She really should be more careful with her words. All too often she would use words or expressions that were completely unknown to the people of Middle Earth. She had been too close to giving away her real identity here more than once because of it. Lord Elrond seemed to pass it off as her being from a less civilised corner of the world, but she did need to take more care.

The elf handed her a bottle by way of a reply.

Kate took it and studied it. ‘What is this?’ she questioned.

The healer smiled serenely. ‘For your female problem,’ he replied in a hushed voice so the others could not hear. ‘It will soothe the pain you are experiencing.’

Kate could feel herself colour a shade of bright red. The whole thing had been embarrassing enough the first day, when she had been showered in advice from not only several female elves, but also from their male counterparts. And she was uncomfortable enough discussing this topic with women, but to talk about such things with men felt wholly inappropriate to her.

‘Thank you,’ she muttered, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow her to put an end to this embarrassing scene. ‘It’s greatly appreciated.’

The elf gave her half a bow. ‘I wish you good luck on the rest of the journey to the Iron Hills, Lady Catherine.’

‘I am sure we will be fine,’ she assured him, not really convinced of her own words. ‘And I thank you for your concern and good cares.’ She at least hoped this was polite enough. It could well be that Tolkien made mention of elvish etiquette, but if he did, she just drew a total blank.

If she screwed up, the elf did not show it. He simply bowed again and left, leaving Kate to study the bottle he had given her. It was a rather large one, but she supposed it would fit in her luggage. And although she would never really admit it, she was eternally grateful for this thing. If she was careful it would last until the quest was over and done with.

‘What is that?’ a voice demanded from somewhere behind her.

‘How good of you to join us, Mr Oakenshield,’ she said without turning. ‘Your timing is impeccable. We’ve just finished packing.’ The king was getting on her nerves lately. The last week he had disappeared to God knows where for hours at a time, and when he came back he looked more brooding and grumpy than when he had left. And, come to think of it, she had yet to see him do a single chore. He may be a king, but they were all on this journey together. He should help them every now and then, because as far as Kate was aware they were not here as his servants.

He ignored her words and shot a wary glance at the bottle. ‘I do not like to repeat myself,’ he warned her. ‘What is that?’

She understood the wariness to a certain extent. He must have seen that she got this from the elves he so distrusted, but did he really believe her to be as foolish as to accept something that was possibly dangerous? ‘That is something you do not need to concern yourself with,’ she informed him in as dismissive a tone as she could manage. Apart from his firm belief in her foolishness, she just didn’t feel like discussing the use of this particular medicine with him. That had all been far too embarrassing the first time around.

‘You received this from the hands of elves,’ Thorin countered. ‘And now you bring it into my company. It _does_ concern me.’

She was very much tempted to roll her eyes at him, but it was still early and she had no ambition to get into a shouting match already. They had far too much of those over the last week already. Fortunately they had been pursuing the bickering-like-an-old-married-couple kind of relationship rather than the lovey-dovey sort of marriage to fool the elves with. Kate was fairly sure the elves had never been too far away and had been witness to at least several of their verbal spats. But not one of them had questioned their believed relationship, so she figured they were still fooled.

The most embarrassing thing about it all, and something Kate had hardly given any thought at all until the moment was there, was the fact that Thorin had placed his bedroll far closer to hers than either of them were actually comfortable with. She had almost thrown a tantrum then, until Balin pointed out that it would be more than a little suspicious for them to be sleeping on different sides of the camp. Kíli, waggling his eyebrows like some movie villain, had added that it could always have been worse: the elves could have given them a single room to share.

Yes, it could have been worse, Kate admitted. It didn’t mean that she liked the arrangement though and she would be very glad indeed when she could leave this place, even if she had enjoyed the chance to take it easy for a week. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to what was still to come, but she didn’t long to stay any longer either. She still stood by what she had thought earlier: this place was not meant for mortals.

Realising her thoughts had wandered far away from the topic of her medicine and her argument – not yet a fight – with Thorin, she gave him a mocking look. ‘It isn’t poison, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’

But the dwarf was not going to let go of this one in a hurry, obviously not as convinced as she was that the contents of the bottle were not lethal. ‘Then _what_ is it?’

‘Never mind that,’ she told him. ‘It’s for my own personal use. I won’t hand it out to the company, so you don’t need to fear I’ll poison them. I’ll only poison myself, for which you will probably be only too grateful.’

His expression told her that he didn’t think this his idea of a joke. And maybe, when you hated elves as much as Thorin did, it wasn’t. ‘Kate, I have no time for this.’ It was only due to the fact they were still within elvish earshot that he called her by her first name. Not that it mattered. The tone was the same as when he called her by her surname. ‘Tell me what is in that bottle or I swear by Mahal I’ll have it removed from your person.’

Wasn’t he infuriating sometimes? ‘What on earth happened to us being allies?’ she demanded, hoping to deflect the question like that. ‘Do you treat all your allies in this fashion? Small wonder they didn’t show up for your quest.’

The words had hardly left her mouth when she realised that she had now gone too far. Thorin staggered back as if she had physically hit him. She had known this was a very sensitive subject, one that wasn’t joked about. His own kin had abandoned him and, if her little theory was right, even betrayed him. This was by no means something to throw back in his face like that, especially when his allies’ behaviour was not his fault.

‘Sorry!’ she exclaimed, really meaning it. Verbal sparring was one thing, insulting him was quite another. ‘I didn’t think. I don’t really mean it.’ Kate had no idea why she would apologise so much, but it felt necessary now. And after all her tongue had once again been quicker than her brain.

He gave her a curt nod that told her nonetheless that he was still far from happy. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said. ‘Now tell me, what is in the bottle?’

He was quite possibly only this insistent because she refused to provide him with an answer, Kate pondered. Such evasive behaviour would make anyone in his senses suspicious and Thorin was already on edge.

She sighed. ‘It’s a painkiller,’ she admitted, feeling her cheeks already heating up. Oh, how she hated discussing this kind of thing with men, or with anyone really.

Silence followed. Thorin arched one eyebrow, giving her that look that made it all too clear he did not understand what she was talking about, but would rather be torn to bits by wargs than ask her about it for fear of looking stupid.

‘For that condition that you really do _not_ want to know about,’ she added, wishing the ground would just swallow her up to save her from this awkward situation.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, quickly to be replaced by a look of discomfort. He had seen the horrors of the world and remained strong in the face of events that would have sent less brave men running for cover, screaming for their mummy, but as soon as a woman mentioned her monthly period, he was ready to do a runner. It was quite ridiculous really, come to think of it, to be so “scared” of something so natural.

The mask slipped back on in no time however. ‘Be ready to move out within the quarter of an hour,’ he informed her. ‘I won’t wait for stragglers.’ He had marched off before she had the chance to reply.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I suppose it sounds strange to say that I’m not really sad to leave Rivendell so soon already. It was nice being here and it was even nicer to be able to have some time to just sit back and do nothing, but some of these elves are really getting on my nerves, not to mention that I am more than glad to drop this whole marriage act. I’m pretty much convinced now that the elves have had more wine than healthy. How else could one come to the conclusion Thorin and I would be some kind of dream couple, never mind an “excellent team,” as Gandalf would have them believe?_


	16. Acceptance?

**Chapter 16**

**Acceptance?**

 

_I soon started regretting wanting to leave Rivendell. We had passed the Edge of the Wild now, leaving all civilisation behind us. We camped on hard rocks, stormy plains or under wild trees and rationed our supplies to make them last longer, supplementing the diet with some edible plants and the game Kíli managed to shoot. His gift with the bow was a gift from heaven. He had a great aim and kept our meat supplies well stocked, for the elves, not surprisingly, had failed to provide us with anything even remotely meat-related. After days of salad and bread, roasted rabbit was absolutely delicious._

_Looking back on the journey now, that was possibly my favourite part of it. Yes, camping under the stars is not always as much fun as the stories would want you to believe, but we were not chased by orcs for once and the scenery more than made up for any discomfort we might experience. I could keep watching around me and yet never be bored. This part of Middle Earth was of a wild beauty, landscape untouched by any hand. It was vast and wild, yes, but all the more impressive and beautiful for it._

_The whole company was more at ease now. The days of rest had been good for all of us, I think. There were stories and songs on the road and I soon started to regret ever making mention of the game of_ I Spy _, because Bofur and Kíli could keep that up for hours at a time. Not that I can really blame them. There was so much to spy that it was hard to run out of objects, although it remained a slight mystery to all of us how Bofur could be so sure that Fíli’s spare socks were blue, since they were safely packed away in his luggage._

_I didn’t spend much time around Thorin and Gandalf those days. Thorin seemed to continue his constant brooding on his pony a little ahead of the rest of us and no one thought it wise to disturb him too much. The wizard was unusually quiet as well. He smoked more than was healthy – not that I thought it ever was – and seemed to have a lot on his mind altogether. It was an unspoken rule to let him be for the time being._

_Of course, the break from all the arguing and fighting could not last forever…_

 

‘Move your feet, lass,’ Balin advised.

‘Your left side is wide open,’ Fíli chimed in.

‘As is your neck,’ Kíli added.

Kate sent them all a glare. ‘Then do enlighten me, please!’ she exclaimed in exasperation. ‘How do I protect my entire body all at once? Anyway, Dwalin can only strike at one place at a time, right? He was aiming for my right side!’

‘It could have been a distraction manoeuvre,’ the half-bald warrior pointed out. ‘You should be prepared for anything.’

‘How, pray am I going to cover every possible angle of my body at the same freaking time?’ she cried. ‘I’m only human, not Mystic Meg!’

Kate was just about ready to throw her sword to the ground and tell Dwalin to stick his ideas about sword fighting lessons there where the sun didn’t shine. True, Dwalin had years and years of experience in his field and Kate had only just started, but he sure as hell didn’t have to rub her nose into it all the time, did he? She knew she sucked at anything to do with fighting and she had a feeling not even her right hook counted for anything with him. Right now the only thing that kept her from giving up on this fighting thing entirely was the fact that Bilbo was doing even worse than she was. The hobbit stumbled over his own feet and had no idea at all what to do with the blade Gandalf had given to him. Kate at least could pretend that she knew what she was doing.

‘Mystic Meg?’ Nori asked. He sat down to the side, a little too amused by this whole display of incompetence.

‘Never you mind,’ Kate told him. ‘What matters is that I can’t do this! How on earth am I going to hold my own against orcs?’

‘I was wondering about that as well,’ someone muttered.

The journalist had the feeling Thorin was the owner of that grumbling voice. No surprise there really. As far as she was aware the dwarf king was still firmly opposed against her presence in his company. The rest of the company had more or less accepted her. No one had even really protested against Ori teaching her a bit of Khuzdul. Thorin on the other hand had almost thrown a fit when he found out, sending the young scribe glares that should have killed him on the spot. But the damage was already done, so now he grudgingly allowed it, although he still glowered at them whenever he caught them having a lesson.

‘You really are a little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?’ she shot back sarcastically. ‘Thanks so much for your moral support by the way.’

She looked at the sword in her hand, glaring at it as if the weapon could help it that she was so bad at fighting. Once again she realised how ill-suited she was to be on a quest. It had become increasingly clear that her fighting skills were not worth mentioning and her advice was constantly ignored by the man whose opinion seemed to be the only one that mattered. The only thing that made that she was not a complete waste of space here was that she had at least some survival skills. She knew how to cook – which was a plus since almost no one else seemed to be able to produce something that was actually edible apart from Bombur and Bilbo –  she knew how to get a fire going and she knew better than to complain about sleeping under the stars on a bedroll that did absolutely nothing to stop her from feeling rocks and tree roots underneath it.

Balin patted her shoulder. ‘Give it time, lass,’ he told her. ‘No one is a sword master in one day.’

‘How about a few weeks?’ she asked wryly. ‘And I don’t need to be an expert to know that I do not have any natural talent.’ She sheathed the sword and made to walk back to the campfire. ‘Maybe I should just settle on practising my right hook. Who knows, it might just work on the orcs.’

Dwalin laughed, a low rumbling that somehow always sounded like he was making fun of her. ‘We’ll practise again tomorrow,’ he informed her.

Kate could only just suppress a groan. She hated sword lessons and today she didn’t have the excuse of having Khuzdul lessons with Ori. The young dwarf had borrowed her worn paperback copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and, after some explanation about her world, had disappeared behind it and had yet to emerge. It had been like that ever since she had given it to him three days ago. Her teacher would read while she was being beaten around by the scary warrior of the group, not exactly the arrangement she had had in mind when she promised him he could read her books.

‘Interesting?’ she asked, dropping down next to him.

‘It is a very interesting culture that is being described in this book,’ the scribe replied. ‘So many etiquette rules to remember.’

‘Your culture doesn’t have them?’ she wondered. For all she knew there could be. After all, a travelling group of men was hardly the ideal group to learn about a culture’s ways. Things were always different on the road. It either brought out the best or the worst in people, but one thing was for sure: manners didn’t last long in the wild and table manners seemed to be the first thing to go straight out of the window as soon as civilisation was left behind.

‘They are different,’ Ori explained. He beckoned at the book. ‘Are they still like this?’

Kate gave a bark of laughter. ‘Thank God, no. Mind you, the lack of manners is starting to annoy me as well, but all in all, I’d say that things are better now. More spontaneous.’

‘Talking about that book again?’ Dori asked.

‘Of course. They hardly talk about anything else,’ Fíli laughed. ‘Let me see that?’ He didn’t even await an answer and took it right out of the scribe’s hands. He flipped back to the first chapter and started to read. ‘ _“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife?”_ ’ Because of his confusion with the line it came out as a question. ‘You’re reading this?’ The question was directed at Kate.

She had felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, even as she did not know exactly why she was embarrassed. Maybe it was because to her it felt like he dwarf was making fun of her. He had read that line in such a disbelieving voice that, at least to her, seemed to mean that he wasn’t very impressed with her reading material.

She got up and snatched it from his hands. ‘Obviously,’ she sneered. ‘Or else I would not carry it around in my bag, don’t you think? And I’ll have you know that this is a rather famous novel where I come from.’

Fíli’s eyebrows arched in question. ‘Novel?’

‘Story,’ Kate clarified. Lending her books to Ori meant that she frequently had to act as a glorified dictionary, since there were a lot of words and terms the dwarves were unfamiliar with. They may be speaking the same language, but that obviously did not mean that they understood one another all the time.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Bofur commented. He was leaning back against a rock, smoking. ‘You could read it to us. We are in need of a bit of entertainment here.’

The absurdity of that question almost made her laugh. ‘You want me to read a romance story to you?’ she asked incredulously.

To her amusement Fíli looked at the book as if it was some kind of dangerous animal that was about to attack him. Some things were universal, Kate observed, like the fact that most men were no fans of romance stories. Ori was the exception here.

‘Ehm, on second thought…’ Fíli’s voice trailed off and several of the other dwarves were looking uncomfortable as well. Really, men!

‘I do have another book,’ she told them. ‘A fairy-tale of some kind. About adventures.’ She didn’t really know why she was proposing this. She wasn’t a great fan of reading to people and she didn’t feel like discussing all those things that they were unfamiliar to them. But entertainment was in short supply lately and she had more than enough of _I Spy_ to last a lifetime. And somehow it always seemed to come to that when all other options ran out. Maybe reading while there was light to read by wasn’t such a bad idea.

Thorin’s head swivelled in her direction immediately and Kate realised just a moment too late that he thought she was about to read from the book he so feared. ‘I am not sure this is a wise idea,’ he told her.

‘It’s about children having adventures in this place called Narnia,’ she told him. ‘It’s considered a children’s book where I come from. Hardly traumatising stuff.’ _And did you really think I was just about to read_ The Hobbit _to them?_ Sometimes Thorin could be really thick. ‘I think there’s even dwarves in it.’

Thorin’s expression was not anything less disapproving than it had been before, but at least he nodded. There was something very unnerving about his behaviour the last few weeks, Kate pondered as she went to retrieve the book from her bag. Ever since they had decided to be at least allies for the duration of the journey, he had retreated into himself, being taciturn and moody, hardly speaking to anyone, not even Balin, who was clearly his closest friend.

It could have something to do with the appearance of the moon runes. His entire expression and attitude had changed the moment those silver runes appeared on the map. Of course she figured it would be a shock to see them, especially because the dwarf had been doing his best to think that her book told him nothing but nonsense, but this reaction she could not for the life of her understand. It must be something else, she decided, because no amount of mysteriously appearing moon runes could justify this reaction.

The dwarves settled around the fire. ‘Over here, lass,’ Bofur beckoned. ‘You’ve got the best light here.’ He was right. The light of day was now fading rapidly and the firelight was all they would soon have left. The summer days were still long, but it was getting rather late now.

Kate walked over, chuckling to herself. ‘I feel like a teacher about to read to a class of school boys,’ she confessed, sitting down between Bifur and Bofur. She was not sure how much the former would understand of the tale, but he was nice enough to her anyway, handing her a blanket to sit on.

‘What’s this story about?’ Dwalin questioned. He was being nicer to her lately, but when it came to stuff from her world, he was still slightly suspicious.

‘Basically it’s about two kids from my world who travel to other worlds and have some kind of adventure there,’ Kate summarised the first Narnia book. ‘And then it all flows from there.’

‘Adventures?’ Bilbo spoke up. ‘Like what we’re doing now, you mean?’ The hobbit didn’t like the idea very much by the sound of it.

‘Nothing dragon-related,’ she reassured him. So far Bilbo had avoided talking about the ‘furnace with wings’ as much as he possibly could and Kate could not blame him for that. Her own role in the quest meant that she would possibly not even be allowed near the beast even if she wanted and that made it a little easier to be with this group. It stopped her from worrying. Bilbo, however did not have that luxury. He would be sent right into the dragon’s lair and being Bilbo Baggins – ‘of Bag End. We do not want any adventures here, thank you very much’ – it must simply terrify him to think of it. ‘But it’s about defeating evil witches, preventing wars, reclaiming a kingdom from a usurper…’ She realised that that particular tale might be appealing to her companions.

Balin nodded. ‘It sounds interesting. Why don’t you just read it to us?’

It was probably one of the strangest things Kate had ever done, she reflected as she opened the book. She had shouted insult at trolls, argued with a dwarf king who was supposed only to exist in fiction and she had visited the elves, yet it felt strange to really bring something that was so clearly from her own world into Middle Earth. It was almost inappropriate, yet here she was, sitting by a campfire, surrounded by dwarves, some of which pretended not to be interested, about to read a famous story from her own world. _Oh well, the world has already turned upside down, hasn’t it?_

‘Okay, there we go.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The Magician’s Nephew, chapter one: The Wrong Door.’ She risked a quick glance around the fire. Most of the group had settled down, ready to be entertained. Dwalin was still not too much at ease, Óin was leaning closer in order to hear her better – Kate hoped she would not be forced to repeat every sentence twice – and Gandalf was obscured by his smokescreen. Thorin, unsurprisingly, had left the company to stand somewhere a little away from the group, staring off into the distance, brooding again. She shook her head in mild amusement and then began with the story: ‘ _This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it shows how all the comings and goings between our world and the land of Narnia first began…_ ’

As it was it took them a whole hour to get through the first chapter and by the end of it Kate was positive that she would like to do nothing more than to haul the book away from her in frustration. _Bugger these dwarves and their untimely interruptions_ , she silently fumed as she put it back in her rucksack. First she had been forced to explain every word the company had not known and after that the group had somehow gotten into a discussion about Uncle Andrew’s behaviour, which led to Fíli and Kíli comparing that Uncle to their own. Thorin had walked away at that point, but no one seemed to notice.

‘That was absolutely the last time I read to dwarves,’ she promised, muttering under her breath.

‘I do think they rather enjoyed it, lass,’ an amused voice spoke up behind her.

Kate swivelled around. ‘Balin! Could you just _not_ do that, please? You scared the crap out of me.’ She closed her bag and sat down, seeing as Balin had done the same. ‘And I am not really sure I can agree with you. If this is anything to go by…’ She looked at the group, that had now burst out into a silly nonsense song. ‘I should never have done it.’

‘They liked the entertainment,’ Balin threw in.

‘I’m sure they did,’ Kate said wryly. There was after all no question that her companions were not bored this evening. ‘I’m just not so sure Thorin approved of it though.’ The dwarf king appeared to have changed into a statue. It just wasn’t natural to stand in that same posture for so long.

Balin smiled indulgently. ‘He has a lot on his mind. It’s none of your fault.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘I wish I could believe it,’ she muttered. The way he acted would make it look like she was personally responsible for everything that had gone wrong on this journey so far. ‘What is the matter with him anyway? He’s been giving me this looks and I’d be damned if I knew why he’s been glaring at me like that!’ She had not been planning to discuss this with anyone, but now that she was Balin was probably the best one to share it with. He was rather close to the leader of the company and always seemed to know what was going on inside his head. He also happened to be the wisest person in the entire company. His calm and gentle manners could stop almost any fight and Kate often found herself jealous of his patience with people.

The elderly dwarf patted her shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault, Kate, none of it. He’s having a hard time.’

‘He’s been giving people a hard time, more like,’ she muttered under her breath. His quiet brooding was somehow worse than the constant heated debates and shouting matches. Those she could handle without any problem.

Balin tried not to show his amusement, but failed. ‘You are so very alike,’ he remarked. ‘Very similar tempers. It’s interesting to see.’

She gave him a pointed look. ‘I am not brooding.’

Balin ignored that, but she could see he disagreed. ‘Give him time, lass. He has a hard time accepting that book of yours.’

Her jaw almost dropped. ‘ _That_ is what this is about?’ she asked, probably far too loud. She shook her head in disbelief. ‘And you’re wrong anyway. He does not believe in any of my knowledge, especially not that book.’ Or rather, he did sometimes, but only as a last resort and that did not count in Kate’s opinion.

Balin stood up again. ‘It would seem Thorin is not the only one who has a hard time accepting,’ he commented, before leaving her alone with her thoughts, completely confused.

 

***

 

The company was happy tonight. There had been storytelling and singing earlier. No one bothered about keeping the noise down. And there was no real need to either. This area was safe and Thorin was standing watch himself. Nothing would be able to get near the company without him knowing and that reassured him somewhat. And he didn’t begrudge them their careless laughter. There would be days enough when there would be no time for such frivolities.

And that was exactly what was bothering him. He had been thinking long and hard since that conversation he had with Balin on the morning of their departure from Rivendell. He had come to realise that he already believed Kate’s book, but he just could not admit it, not even to himself. The moment he did that he knew he would have to face all the questions and doubts he had now stored away all over again.

And that he could not do, because there was no way back and thinking about it would solve nothing. As his oldest friend had so accurately pointed out, these dwarves would go on anyway. The only ones prepared to turn back would be Mr Baggins and Miss Andrews and that would be no use at all, since they were not the ones he cared about.

He remembered the night he had made his alliance with the human woman. She had accused him of not acting like they were in an alliance and Thorin knew she was right. He had avoided her as if she had some kind of contagious disease he might just catch if he got too close to her. Sooner rather than later he would have to face her. He just didn’t know what would happen if they finally came face to face. Thorin had never been one to admit that he had been wrong and he could not see him say such a thing to Kate of all people.

Balin’s advice had been to work with her rather than against her. He had told the dwarf king to let her use that book, as Gandalf had brought her here to do. He had pointed out that the reason why all the worst things of her story came to pass was that Thorin only started listening to her when all other options had already run out, when it was simply far too late for anyone to avoid certain things from happening. The worst thing about that theory was that it made perfect sense.

He shook his head. Surely he could afford to wait another day before facing her. And maybe, if he was really lucky, she would come to him rather than the other way around. So far she had been unable to restrain herself from informing him of a danger that she believed to be lying ahead.

It was as if Kate had somehow heard his thoughts. ‘Mr Oakenshield?’ came her voice, rather softly and timid for once. It somehow did not suit her at all.

‘Miss Andrews,’ he acknowledged without turning.

She came to stand next to him, but did not yet speak. From the corner of his eyes he discreetly observed her. The advisor seemed pensive, staring off into the darkness not unlike Thorin was prone to do when he was trying to think.

‘Was there something you wished to discuss with me?’ he asked after several minutes of silence. ‘Or did you simply wish to do some stargazing?’

A sarcastic grin lit up her face. ‘No, actually I was planning on doing a statue imitation like you have been doing for the past four hours,’ she shot back. ‘We need to talk,’ she added before he could respond to her altogether rude remark.

‘So it would seem,’ he agreed. Thorin wasn’t really sure this was the best time or place for that conversation, but he knew that they should indeed discuss what to do now. And most of the company had gone to sleep now, so there wouldn’t be many eavesdroppers listening in. not that that would matter when they got themselves into a shouting match again. Bombur had been muttering darkly that their fights could wake the dead and frighten the orcs more than any sword could do. Thorin was with him on the first one, but he had his doubts about the second.

‘And you are going to listen to me?’ Kate asked warily, clearly suspicious of the fact that he seemed to agree with her on anything at all.

‘We did agree on being allies, did we not?’ He arched one eyebrow at her in a quizzical manner, as if the very notion that he would not listen to her was utterly ridiculous.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ was the muttered response that he was probably not meant to hear. She continued, in a slightly louder tone: ‘How long until we reach the mountain pass ways?’

The road had already started to rise. ‘Three or four days if the weather holds,’ the dwarf replied.

Kate gave a curt nod in confirmation. ‘Would it actually help if I shared some of my knowledge or are you just going to slap it down again? Because in that case I’ll know not to waste my breath on this.’

Her assumption made him want to hit something or, better still her. Unfortunately he had been brought up never to hit women, not even those as annoying as Kate Andrews. Nevertheless her assumption that he was this grumpy and unkind man who never listened to anyone made his blood practically boil. It was downright irritating to know that the reason this vexed him so much was that there was actually some truth in her words.

‘Please share,’ he said in as icy a voice as he could manage.

‘Well, if that bloody book is right we’ll soon be walking in on a real thunder-battle,’ she told him. ‘Between stone giants.’

He had been telling himself he actually wanted to know what her knowledge about this subject was, but now he changed his mind. He really had not wanted to know. ‘A thunder-battle?’ he repeated.

Kate smiled wryly. ‘It’s not really my idea of comfortable travelling either. Any chance we could change route?’

 _About as likely to happen as Gandalf giving up smoking_. ‘That will not be possible,’ Thorin informed her. ‘The other passes are infested with goblins.’

‘So is the one we’ll be taking,’ Kate countered immediately. ‘They changed the place where they had their front door not that long ago, according to the book…’ Her voice trailed off, suddenly hesitant. Thorin had to admit that given their history of discussing said book – or rather: fighting over said book – he could not even really blame her for being careful to mention it in his presence. ‘Look, I know you don’t like it…’ She fell silent again, not knowing how to proceed.

Thorin wasn’t sure either. He really wanted to do nothing more than start to shout again how he didn’t make his decisions based on a book from a different world. But that had gotten them nowhere in the past. True, it had gotten them to be nearly cooked by trolls and chased by wargs and orcs, whereas the book had saved him from having to ask Lord Elrond about the message of the map.

But could he do it? Could he really lay his fate in the hands of one loud-mouthed, short-tempered human woman who didn’t want to be here? Every bit of common sense he possessed protested against the very notion of it. But he was the king and he was expected to keep his people safe. He was not yet convinced that Kate would be the best qualified person to help him in achieving that, but he could not really sit back and let everything go what Kate called belly-up because he was too cowardly to give this a try. Bugger Balin and his emotional blackmail, but he did not really have a choice in this matter. Lately it would seem he didn’t have a choice in anything. That did nothing to brighten his mood either.

‘Miss Andrews,’ he said, getting her attention. ‘Neither of us likes the situation we are now in, but I am afraid that we are now forced to cooperate.’ By both Gandalf and Balin. ‘Tell me what you think you know.’ There, now he had at least made it sound as if he still didn’t really believe it.

She huffed. ‘Try to make it even less enthusiastic, why don’t you?’

‘Are you here to make fun of me, Miss Andrews?’ he demanded. He glared at her, but in the darkness that wasn’t as effective as it was in daylight.

‘No, I am here because some bloody wizard wants me to be the company advisor.’ The tone was undeniably bitter and frustrated. ‘If I got the choice, I’d be back home by now, but we both know Gandalf is not going to let me get out of this that easily. We’re stuck with each other, it would seem, as much as we both hate that. And I’m absolutely fed up with you sending me those dark, brooding stares. Shouting I can handle, but not this.’

That stopped him dead in his tracks. She could handle the shouting? Thorin felt slightly uneasy when he realised this could well mean she relished in those arguments as much as he seemed to be doing. It didn’t do much to convince him they were both entirely sane and it certainly worried him that they had, once again, found some common ground, with shouting matches no less.

‘Would you prefer me to shout at you?’ he asked, trying and failing to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

‘No, I’d prefer you to listen to me, for once in your bloody life,’ she corrected him. ‘We agreed on being allies, back in Rivendell. Allies don’t need to like one another in order to work together. You can hate me as much as you choose, but let’s at least try to make this thing work, for the company’s sake.’

She turned to leave. Thorin didn’t know why he was doing what he did – he could not recall giving himself permission to do it anyway – but when he checked again he had gripped her wrist, making her half turn to look at him.

‘I do not hate you,’ he corrected her assumption. ‘I may not like you either, but I do not hate you either.’

A wry smile graced her features. ‘I consider that progress.’

Thorin nodded and let go off her wrist. Kate walked back to the camp and seated herself on a rock near the campfire, burying her nose in a book. From this distance the dwarf could not see what she was reading, but it would probably be a fair guess to say that it was the book he feared so much.

He watched her for some time. She was unaware that he was watching, giving him the opportunity to study her as she read parts, made notes in the book itself and then flipped through the pages in search of something. For some reason Kate Andrews was taking her task seriously. There was a deep frown in her forehead from time to time as if she was thinking long and hard on something.

It made Thorin wonder. Why did she make such an effort out of all this? Was she afraid that Gandalf would never let her go back to her own time if she did not give it her all? He briefly considered the option of her genuinely caring about what happened to this company, but he quickly discarded the idea. No, she did not care, not about the quest. The company was another matter, he reflected. If anything, she was being accepted. It was a slow process, mainly because most of the men still didn’t understand what she was even doing here – to them Kate was a tag-along who was only here because of the wizard’s whims – but since she had proven herself to not be a complete waste of space, they first came to tolerate her presence and now she just belonged to the group, the result of having to put up with her for long enough. Thorin figured the same might be true for the hobbit. It was a strange thing indeed.

He went over what Miss Andrews had said in his head, trying to make sense of it. She had mentioned a thunder-battle and stone giants. It didn’t really come as a surprise. Thorin had heard more than one rumour about giants in the Misty Mountains, although no one ever seemed to have seen them with their own eyes. It always was someone whose friend of a friend had encountered them, but the fact remained that the rumours kept going around, so there must be some ground for them. It was a strange thing for Thorin to realise that this was the first event mentioned by Kate’s book that sounded even remotely plausible. Mind you, the far less plausible things had also come to pass.

It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but he decided to trust her on this one, but only because it was something he had already deemed logical and not, definitely _not_ , because she had told him so. That automatically led him to the question of what to do with the route they were currently taking. He much rather avoided getting caught up in a thunder-battle, but most of the other roads were highly dangerous. People generally avoided travelling over the Misty Mountains if they could, preferring to take the long way round if they really had to get to the other side of them. And they had good reason to do so, because these mountains were infested with goblins. But Gandalf had sworn that this pass was safe. He had explored it a few months before the quest had begun and he had found it completely goblin-free.

But Kate was saying something else. So really it all came down to who he trusted on this matter, Gandalf or Kate. If someone had asked that question a few weeks ago he would have said Gandalf without as much as a second thought, but that was before he had seen the proof that the book was not as much nonsense as he had always made it out to be. All in all it was rather frustrating.

 _One time_ , he promised himself. _I am going to trust her judgement one time. If she hasn’t proven her worth then, that will be all the proof I need that she is indeed a fraud._

He marched over to the fire and seated himself opposite Kate. ‘Are you sure about the goblins, Miss Andrews?’

The woman had not seen him coming and his presence visibly startled her. ‘Can you please not do that?’ she hissed at him. ‘You scared the crap out of me.’

Thorin was wholly unimpressed. ‘Then you should have paid better attention to your surroundings,’ he countered. ‘An orc will not be as considerate of your unawareness. Now, tell me, are you sure about those goblins, Miss Andrews?’

The advisor grimaced as he addressed her once again by her surname. He knew she hated it, but using her first name would lead several people to jump to conclusions about them and that he had more than enough of with the elves already.

‘Both versions of the tale agree on the presence of the goblins,’ she replied, shrugging. ‘And when both versions agree, they tend to be right.’

‘Gandalf is convinced the road we are to be taking is free of those wretched creatures,’ Thorin said, wondering how she would react to that.

As it was, the woman was wholly unimpressed. ‘Had you told me that a few months ago, I might have agreed,’ she nodded. ‘But apparently that was not really good enough, so they changed the location of their front gate.’ She bit her lip. ‘I know where that passage in the book is, if you would want to hear it. Or read it.’

There was a long silence, and a very tense one too. Thorin really wanted nothing more than to never again have to hold that book, but he had decided to trust her just this once. ‘Read it,’ he ordered her before he had the chance to change his mind again.

She looked at him, eyes wide in what appeared to be shock, but she was wise enough not to question it. ‘If you say so,’ she simply said, before taking up the book again. It took her a few seconds to find the part she was looking for and then she began to read in a hushed voice as to not wake the rest of the company: ‘ _The wizard, to tell the truth, never minded explaining his cleverness more than once, so now he told Bilbo that both he and Elrond had been well aware of the presence of evil goblins in that part of the mountains. But their main gate used to come out on a different pass, one more easy to travel by, so that they often caught people benighted near their gates. Evidently people had given up going that way, and the goblins must have opened their new entrance at the top of the pass the dwarves had taken, quite recently, because it had been found quite safe up to now._ ’

Kate was quiet for a moment after that and Thorin was grateful for it. This had changed something between them, more than deciding to be allies had. Actions spoke louder than words and for all intents and purposes he had just shown that he did have some faith in that book and in her. They had gone from being not-quite-enemies to reluctant allies. Neither of them wanted to, but it was the lesser of two evils. And at any rate the company would be glad to have them not constantly arguing and biting each other’s head off.

The question however remained. Could he really take this advice and act on it? He knew it would be only too easy to change the route. Gandalf would doubtlessly know where the main gate had previously been, so they could take that pass and sneak past the goblins unnoticed, whilst avoiding the stone giants at the same time. And doing so would hardly take up any extra time at all.

Realising that his mind was already made up, he nodded. ‘Very well,’ he told the advisor. ‘We will do it your way.’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I think the world has just turned upside down, or else I’m dreaming. Did Thorin I-don’t-make-my-decisions-based-on-a-book-from-another-world Oakenshield really just say ‘We will do it your way’ after hearing me read from the book? I’m definitely dreaming now._


	17. The Slippery Slope

**Chapter 17**

**The Slippery Slope**

 

_As it turned out, I had not been dreaming. Thorin had been dead serious about following my advice. He had taken me to see Gandalf the following morning, albeit in his own grumpy way, to discuss the possibilities of changing directions as to avoid an unfortunate run-in with goblins and stone giants._

_It would have been even better if the plan had actually worked. As it happened, Gandalf informed us that the pass the goblins’ main gate had been on had recently been blocked by a stone avalanche. That was the reason travellers didn’t go that way anymore and quite possibly the direct cause why the goblins had decided to make themselves a new front gate._

_‘You have got to be joking!’ I recall saying to Gandalf. Thorin took it better than I did, if only a little. I knew that look he was sending the wizard and it would not have surprised me if our surroundings had frozen instantly because of it._

_‘I am certainly not joking, Miss Andrews.’ Gandalf was at least slightly ruffled because I had the guts to question his judgement. ‘And if you think you know better, then you are quite welcome to go and see it for yourself.’_

_I was half tempted to say that I would most certainly do so, but then decided against it. I had had one argument too many with that wizard already and back then I really did not want to risk him getting so pissed off that he didn’t want to send me back home again._

_Thorin inquired about the other options, other paths that we could take, but of course there was no such path that Gandalf knew of. According to him the Misty Mountains were crawling with goblins and the path he had meant for us to take was still one of the less riskier roads to take, even if the goblins had indeed decided to open their new gate right beside the road._

_I didn’t like the sound of that at all. In the past weeks I had been wondering about my use to the company. So far my knowledge had done nothing to change the course of events. We had still ended up getting ourselves almost cooked by trolls, we had still ended up visiting Rivendell and the way things looked now we would also still end up facing giants and goblins. I could not say I was looking forward to that. At all. It was almost as if someone or something was working against me, preventing me from doing what Gandalf had brought me here to do._

_Thorin wasn’t exactly pleased either, but he remained composed as he, to my surprise, turned to me. ‘Would you recognise this front gate if you saw it?’ he demanded._

_For a moment I could only stare at him. I knew what this was. It was a challenge, a chance to prove myself. It was what I had been hoping for, but now it came down to it, I found that it absolutely terrified me._

Get yourself together _, I told myself._ You’re a grown woman, not some snivelling baby _. And so I looked at him and gave him a curt nod. ‘Yes.’_

_He nodded his response. ‘Then make sure we don’t go anywhere near it.’ He left me then, making me hope that I had not just made the biggest mistake of my life…_

 

The weather took a turn for the worst three days after they had left that camping spot. The blue skies left and the clouds obscured the sun, pouring showers on the soon soaked company. It was only midday, but it was dark around them already, as if the night was already upon them.

Thorin had a bad feeling about this, even if he would rather die than admit to such a thing. But it was unnerving. The wind had grown stronger and stronger over the last few hours and he thought he heard thunder somewhere off in the distance, but it was hard to be sure. The wind and rain combined made so much noise that he had trouble making out any other sounds. He remembered Kate saying that they would get themselves caught up in a real thunder-battle. If anything were to happen, it may just happen now.

‘Get off your ponies!’ he shouted down the column. The animals were already having trouble keeping their balance on the narrow path, that now was slippery too because of the rain. He gave the good example himself, dismounting immediately. His mount was nervous. Thorin could see the white of its eyes and the ears were lying flat against its skull. And it had good reason to be uneasy too, Thorin knew. He knew better than to expect that all the ponies would make it out of this wretched place.

‘We should find shelter!’ someone shouted back at him. The dwarf king supposed it was Dwalin, who was just behind him. There was no chance he could hear anyone else father away.

Thorin happened to agree with that assessment of the situation. Their boots had better grip on the ground than the ponies’ hooves, but even with that advantage he had a hard time remaining on his own two feet, especially since he had to restrain his own pony as well.

‘Keep an eye out for caves!’ he yelled back at the warrior.

A curt nod was all he caught of the response. The wind tore at his cloak as if it had a mind of its own, planning to take it away from him. The pony reared up, spooked by the gust of wind.

‘Keep it down, you foolish beast,’ Thorin muttered. Why had it seemed like a good idea to accept the offer of ponies again? They were travelling a narrow path now, with rock walls to their left and a ravine to their right. Thorin had looked down it precisely one time. After that he had decided not to look right again. He could not see the bottom of it and although he was no afraid of heights whatsoever, he knew there was a very real possibility of someone falling down into that abyss.

There was a loud thunderclap, drawing his attention towards the direction from where the noise had come. And he realised he had been wrong. It was no thunderstorm.

‘Bless me, the legends are true!’ Bofur exclaimed. He looked at the scene unfolding right before their eyes. ‘Giants! Stone giants!’ He seemed to be under the impression it was the most magnificent thing in the world.

Magnificent was not the word Thorin would have used for the stone giants. He would have called them impressive, huge and highly dangerous. He now understood why people tried to stay as far away as possible from them. Dwarves were smaller than Men and Elves, but next to these giants even the tallest Man would seem like a vulnerable hobbit in comparison. They were huge, made from the mountains itself and as tall as the peaks they had been born from. And right now they were in the middle of a fight. And the company was far too close to it.

‘Move!’ someone shouted. Thorin turned around to see the advisor look at him. She too was soaked, but she didn’t seem affected by the bad weather. There was pure, unadulterated fear in her eyes. ‘Move, you fools!’

Thorin may have decided to trust her on the journey over the mountains, but in this particular case he had to disagree with her. The battle seemed to be taking place in front of them and moving towards it would not be the wisest course of action. He genuinely understood her wish to get out of this place, but her fear made her blind to the danger that was lying ahead. But turning back wasn’t an option either. The path was too narrow for them to be able to turn the ponies. The best thing they could hope for was a cave, if they could find one.

‘We can’t!’ he shouted back at her. ‘The battle is in front of us.’

He suspected that, had the situation been any less serious, she would have glared at him. ‘I don’t care where we’re going as long as it’s not here!’ she bellowed.

‘I understand that you want to get away from the giants…’ he began. Right now was possibly not the time to tell her that she was behaving like a child, so he decided he could go a little easy on her.

‘That’s not the bloody point!’ Kate shouted. ‘I don’t care where we’re going, but we need to move _now_!’ The last word was said with so much emphasis that Thorin began to believe he had somehow missed her point.

‘What…?’

She didn’t give him the chance to finish that question. ‘We’re on one!’ she interjected. ‘ _MOVE_!’

That spurred him into action. He had no doubt this was part of the knowledge that came from her world, but for once he didn’t feel the need to question it. If she was right about this, the main priority now was to get away from this place, preferably before this thing decided it was time to get up and join the fight. If she was wrong, they would hopefully still be in one piece later to discuss the accuracy of her knowledge. Right now it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

‘Move out!’ he ordered. Again he gave the good example himself by dragging his unwilling pony with him. He forced himself to ignore the raging battle that was going on within the ravine. It would probably be safe to say that these giants’ feet stood on the very bottom of it, the bottom Thorin could not even see from where he stood. It was just one black abyss he was staring at.

The company was moving too, the people closest to Kate looking more than a bit uneasy. They had no clue as to how Miss Andrews knew they were standing on one of these stone nightmares, but they weren’t questioning it, just assuming that she had seen something they had missed out on.

The pony had spotted the real danger now as well. It reared up, refusing to come any closer to the rock-throwing giants. It was only a stupid animal of course, with no comprehension of the fact that it could be more dangerous to remain where they were than to move closer to the danger they could see.

‘Come on!’ he growled at it. He knew he should be talking to it in gentler tones, persuading rather than to command the animal to follow his lead, but he was too much on edge to calm himself enough to be able to calm his mount. He tried to pulled the reins, trying to get the pony to move again, but it was useless. It was too scared now. The dwarf even doubted any amount of gentle coaxing would persuade it now.

And they were wasting time, time they could not afford to lose now. The rest of the company was waiting behind him, unable to go further because of Thorin’s struggles with his pony. Lingering here was life-threatening and he could not allow his companions to be in any more danger than they already were in.

Thorin took his dagger and cut loose a few bags with their supplies. The saddle was beautiful and possibly very expensive, but he would have no further use for it. Thorin regretted what he was about to do, but he had no other choice.

The pony reared up again and he saw his chance. Thorin was strong from working as a smith for years and years and one good shove made the pony lose balance completely. Its scream pierced his ears as it tumbled over the cliff. It would never have worked if the circumstances had been any different. But the animal had been on its hind legs only and the ground was already slippery. It was almost too easy to push the pony to its death.

‘Move!’ Thorin shouted at the company, waving them on. He was standing in a shallow niche, allowing the others to pass without having to venture too close to the ravine. Most of his companions obeyed his order with quiet efficiency. He could see they were uncomfortable, but none of them, not even the gentle Ori, showed their fear, if they even felt it. In that moment Thorin was proud to be their leader. It reminded him why he had decided to take on a full-grown dragon with so few a number in the first place.

Kate had a better control on her emotions now. She just followed behind Dwalin as fast as she could. The only indication that she was scared out of her depth was the pale colour of her cheeks and the haunted look in her eyes, but all in all she held herself well. Gandalf was almost – how was it even possible? – relaxed, guiding his slightly larger mount past Thorin with his usual calm. The only thing missing in the scene was the pipe and the trademark smokescreen.

No, it was the hobbit that appeared to be in real trouble. His pony was at least as panicked as Thorin’s had been and the halfling lacked the strength to keep it under control. And he was frightened too. ‘Come on, please!’ he begged of the animal.

The animal of course was deaf to Mr Baggins’s pleas. It rolled its eyes and literally screamed in fear. It was a horrible sound to hear, but right now the dwarf king was a tad bit more concerned for Dori and Glóin, who were still stuck behind the hobbit, waiting for Bilbo to move before they could continue on themselves.

And that pony was not planning on moving anytime soon. Thorin wasted no more time in cutting the ropes and belts that had attached the bags with their supplies to the saddle, tossing them at the hobbit with the snapped command to hold onto them. Ponies they could miss, but this journey would be very hard indeed without food and water.

‘What are you doing?’ Mr Baggins demanded. His fear was forgotten now as he looked at Thorin with a mixture of horror and confusion. He must not have seen what Thorin had done to his own mount and maybe that was for the better. He seriously doubted this gentle hobbit would approve of what he was about to do.

‘Move on,’ he commanded.

Bilbo conveniently ignored him. Kate’s attitude must be catching. ‘What are you doing to Daisy?’ he yelled over the noise of the storm. Never mind the fact that he was standing on a wet, slippery ground, with the rain pouring down on him and the wind pushing and pulling at him, even while a thunder-battle was taking place practically next to him, the fate of his pony was far more important to him than any of that.

And good grief, he had even named the beast. That just made it worse, but they had absolutely not the time for sentimentalities. ‘Clearing the road,’ Thorin replied curtly. ‘Step back.’

‘Clearing the…?’ Bilbo sputtered before he fell silent, staring at the dwarf king in sheer disbelief. ‘No, you can’t…!’

But Thorin was not listening. He pulled the reins from Bilbo’s hand and just as the pony reared up again, he gave the beast a good shove. This one resisted more. It fought Thorin with all its might, screaming until it drowned out the noise made by the elements and the giants. Something scratched his arms. It was probably a safe bet to say that one of the pony’s hooves was to blame for that.

But the dwarf didn’t feel the pain. He had more important things on his mind than the wellbeing of one animal and any injuries he might have sustained. Behind them it seemed like the mountain itself was moving. Kate would appear to have been right, although now was clearly not the time to ponder that. Right now it had to be a priority to get out of here.

He threw up his arms in as threatening a gesture as he could manage, effectively scaring the animal again. It was soon on its hind legs again and Thorin used the opportunity this provided him with to get rid of the beast for once and for all. He wasn’t sure which made more noise: the horse or the hobbit. Mr Baggins was positively shocked to see Thorin do something this barbaric to the pony he had clearly grown attached to.

The dwarf ignored the protests and manhandled the burglar into the right direction. The pace almost made the hobbit trip over his own overly large feet several times, but Thorin’s death grip on his shoulder prevented him from either falling on his face or following his pony down the long way to the bottom of the ravine.

They caught up with the rest of the company seemingly hours later, even when Thorin knew it must be less than a minute after he had sent Bilbo’s pony to its death. They were catching their breath at a small plateau that was relatively sheltered from the harsh weather.

They had all gathered there when a loud noise demanded all of their attention. The path they had been on just so short ago was moving. The mountain was coming alive before their very eyes. All they could do was watch in shock as the path they had travelled turned out to be part of the giant’s legs. Kate had been right. They had been standing on one and had it not been for her timely warning, they might all be in mortal danger right now.

The giant had been vexed by one of his kind, who had thrown a big lump of rock as big as a house at what appeared to be his head. It was hard to make out, since there were no distinguishable features. It was only the shape that indicated that this even was a head. How these giants could see was entirely beyond Thorin. He just hoped that none of them had realised the company was there, lest they want to use them to throw around next.

‘What were you doing?’ The hobbit’s furious voice interrupted his thoughts. Bilbo Baggins was soaked, his hair dripping and he was shivering with the cold, but he was still looking at Thorin as if he owed him an explanation. As far as Thorin was aware, and that was pretty far, he didn’t.

But the question did trigger his anger. ‘It was only a pony,’ he snarled. ‘Had I not cleared the road we might all have been dead by now.’

‘Maybe we could have persuaded it…’ Mr Baggins tried.

Thorin suddenly started to regret not shoving the hobbit down the slope along with the pony. So far they were equally useless and the pony at least had the added bonus of not being able to question his commands.

‘There was no time,’ Thorin replied brusquely. ‘If we had tried to gently persuade it, you would have fallen to your death the moment that giant started to move. You would never have been able to get off in time.’

That had the hobbit stop and think for a while. First there was only righteous indignity and maybe even sadness, but then the understanding started to dawn on his face, only to be immediately be replaced by horror as he realised how close he had been to death. ‘You… you’re right,’ he stammered. The halfling stared at the ravine as if he was seeing it for the first time. ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to endanger us.’ It sounded altogether subdued and horrified.

‘I know,’ Thorin snapped. He was still trying to determine whether this made things better or even worse. ‘You are far too naïve to understand the world and all its cruelties.’ It came out as a biting remark, the natural result of only having escaped death once again. Thorin had one too many of those experiences and to have one because of one hobbit’s foolish attachment to an animal was just too much for his already tried nerves. He stared down at the supposed burglar. ‘You should never have come,’ he growled, meaning every word. ‘You have no place amongst us.’

He turned on his heels, leaving the hobbit to think over his words. _And you can take that hint and run with it_. And he meant that literally. For all Thorin cared the hobbit could take his things and run back to his comfortable hobbit-hole as fast as his short legs could carry him. The dwarf would not risk Gandalf’s wrath by sending Bilbo Baggins away directly, but he could make the halfling’s life as difficult as possible, make him understand that he was not welcome here.

He had never felt so strongly about this before. The hobbit was a nuisance, who could not fight, who missed his soft pillow, books and six meals a day and had no realistic view of the world at all. But Thorin had tolerated him for the wizard’s sake. He could not risk losing Gandalf’s help because he had sent away his chosen burglar, no matter how ill-suited said burglar seemed to be for the job. Gandalf’s aid was valuable and as long as the hobbit stayed more or less out of the way, the dwarf king was prepared to put up with him. And he could always ignore his presence when it suited him.

But that had been before this naïve halfling had endangered lives by fussing over a pony out of all things to worry about in the given circumstances. And Thorin Oakenshield was prepared to lay down his life for his homeland, his people and every single member of this company, but he was not willing to risk everything for the sake of one pony that was blocking the road while the very mountain they were standing on was coming alive, threatening to hurl them all to their deaths.

He joined Dwalin and Balin, who were trying to calm their own ponies after the ordeal they had just gone through. ‘You all right?’ he asked gruffly.

Dwalin gave a curt nod and Balin even managed a smile. ‘We’re still in one piece, laddie.’ The elderly dwarf looked at the giant they had been standing on, observing it with wonder and a certain amount of admiration. That was all fine, Thorin supposed, since they were out of danger now.

‘That was a close call,’ came another voice.

Thorin turned around to face the company’s advisor. She gave every impression of a soaked little kitten as she stood there. Her clothes, given to her by the elves, were far more elegant than any of the dwarves’ clothing and clung to her slender figure in a very distracting kind of way. But right now was really not the time to comment on the advisor’s dressing habits. And it was quite ridiculous to notice such a thing now anyway.

He gave a nod in respect. After all, she had recognised the danger before anyone else had. ‘We still need to find shelter,’ he growled. While he was grateful for her intervention, he was not quite ready yet to acknowledge it. ‘We can’t stay here. If we don’t get blown off, or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football.’ As it was, it surprised him the giants had not yet taken notice of them.

‘Charming prospect,’ Kate muttered.

Thorin fixed her with his sternest gaze. ‘That gate, is it close?’ he demanded. He would have asked it in private, if there was such a thing as private here, but he did not have that luxury now and so he ignored Balin and Dwalin’s questioning glances.

Kate nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘And you are sure you can recognise it on sight alone?’ How that was possible when she only had book descriptions to go on remained a mystery to the dwarf, but he decided not to question it now. He could always ask about it later.

She seemed to hesitate for half a second, but then she nodded again. ‘Yes. If I can have a proper look at it.’

Thorin hated to have to make this decision, but he hated to get caught by goblins even more. ‘Then you will come with us to investigate.’

 

***

 

The cave they entered was dark and chilly, but at least it was dry. And that was more than could be said for the rest of the company, who were still waiting outside on the plateau they had run to. Thorin had ordered them to stay there, while he took Kate and  the sons of Fundin to search for a safer hide-out. The plateau was safe enough for now. It was out of sight of the giants and it provided the company with some shelter from wind and rain, but they couldn’t stay there either or they’d catch their deaths.

This was the third cave they had gone to explore. There wasn’t a shortage of them in these mountains, but the real difficulty was to find one that wasn’t already occupied. The first one they had checked out had been far too small. Three dwarves could fit in and then maybe some of the bags as well, but then it was full. They had not lingered there long.

The second cave was large enough, but they had heard something growl at the far back of it and it had seemed like a wise idea to get out before that something, whatever it was, felt the need to come and check out the visitors.

This cave however seemed both abandoned and large enough for both the company and the ponies. Maybe it was precisely that fact that set Kate’s alarm bells ringing. And there was something here that felt awfully familiar to her.

The others didn’t seem to share the sentiment. ‘Looks safe enough,’ Dwalin remarked.

 _But looks can be deceiving_ , Kate thought. Maybe it was just intuition or maybe she was getting paranoid, but it didn’t feel like a safe haven to her.

Thorin seemed to share her ideas. The dwarf king looked around him, eyes narrowed and his hands gripping his axe a little more tightly than was justified. It would seem she wasn’t the only one to be spooked by the idea of goblins lurking around. ‘Search to the back,’ he ordered curtly. ‘Caves in the mountain are seldom unoccupied.’ He sent Balin to his left and Dwalin to his right, while he went to examine the rock wall they were facing, leaving Kate to stand by herself.

She wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to be doing now. The cave looked safe enough to be sure, but it also looked vaguely familiar. But she wasn’t sure this was the cave they should be avoiding like the plague and she had a feeling that Thorin was not going to make his decisions based on some undefined feeling she may have.

 _Think!_ she ordered herself. _Standing here is not going to solve your problems now._ She had the chance now to prove herself and she’d be damned if she was not going to use it.

The book claimed that it was a crack in the wall that the goblins would come through. If that was the case, one of the others would surely find that one shortly. With Thorin being as paranoid about this as she was, he would not be satisfied with a quick search of the place.

But if the movie was right, the front gate would be a trap door in the ground and no one of course would ever think of that one. They had not thought of it in the movie and Kate seriously doubted they would in real life.

At least she had a purpose now. She knelt down in the very centre of the cave and started to move the earth and sand with her bare hands in order to see what was underneath it. At least the ground was dry and she had little difficulty removing the sand.

‘What are you doing, lass?’ Balin was the first to notice what she was doing. The elderly dwarf sent her a confused look.

‘Checking something out,’ she replied curtly.

That got her the attention of the other two. Dwalin stared at her as if he was sure she had lost her mind, but Thorin had a worried expression on his face. ‘Do you think this is it?’ he questioned, ignoring the confused brothers who were staring at the scene.

‘Not sure,’ Kate responded. ‘But we’re about to find out.’

‘By digging?’ Dwalin’s voice was more than a little sceptical.

She was not sure how much she could say to him. Thorin would certainly not thank her for spilling the beans about her knowledge, especially since he had tried to keep it under wraps for so long. ‘Just a feeling,’ she said. ‘Did you find anything?’

Dwalin was still suspicious, but at least he answered the question. ‘Nothing.’

‘Not even the smallest crack in the wall?’ she urged. It would of course be all too easy to overlook those and right now she didn’t feel like taking any risks. It had been scary enough with the stone giants already.

The suspicion was back for real now. ‘Is there something you are not telling us?’

Kate sent a desperate look Thorin’s way, almost begging him to intervene. If he wanted to keep the book from them, he should think of a way to do it. ‘Do as she says,’ he ordered the warrior. ‘Examine everything. Balin, you as well.’ He himself knelt down next to Kate. ‘Do you think this could be it?’ he demanded in a hushed voice.

‘Possibly,’ she nodded.

She could see him struggling with himself, not wanting to believe her, but at the same time not willing to risk not to and suffer the consequences of that decision just in case she was right. In the end the concern for his company won out. ‘How will we be able to tell if this is the cave?’

‘It’s either a crack in the wall that will be able to open or a trap door hidden underneath the sand,’ she reported in a whisper, taking care not to alert the others. ‘The versions of the story disagree on that, so I’d thought it best to check it all out.’

The dwarf nodded. ‘Let me help you.’

Kate couldn’t help but stare at him for that offer. ‘I think my ears must be deceiving me, because it can’t be possible for the great Thorin Oakenshield to offer me his assistance.’

That got a laugh out of Balin and even Dwalin cracked something that might be labelled a smile.

The latter came walking over. ‘There’s no crack to be seen, lass, and I think it is time you started to explain what is going on here.’ He knew he was being left in the dark about something and if his tone was anything to go by, he was not very pleased with that. Kate could not really blame him for that. She was behaving suspiciously and it would only be natural for him to question her actions. After all, it wasn’t really normal for someone to start digging when searching for a dry shelter.

She took a deep breath, trying to think of an explanation that wasn’t really the truth that he might buy, but Balin beat her to it. ‘Is this about that book of yours?’ he asked, not unfriendly.

The glance Thorin sent him was murderous, but the secret was out now anyway, so Kate nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘What book?’ Dwalin demanded, now favouring his brother with his most suspicious look as well.

Kate looked at Thorin, wordlessly asking for permission to explain the situation. It would be no good to try and hide it now anyway. The dwarf king looked like he would rather eat dung than let her, but in the end he gave her a curt, barely visible nod.

‘Do you remember me mentioning a book from my world that dealt with the events that are now happening?’ she asked, looking up at the half bald dwarf. He was still standing, practically looming over her. ‘That first night in Bag End?’

She could see him think, but in the end it would seem that the realisation started to dawn on him. ‘Are you saying that was not a joke?’ The tone told her that she could better say that it indeed had been a joke.

Of course they had no such luck. ‘Unfortunately not,’ she replied wryly. ‘It is real and, as far as I can see, more or less reliable too.’

‘A book from your world is telling us what we’re going to do?’ the question came out as a low growl.

Kate nodded. ‘More or less anyway.’ She caught Dwalin’s angry look and added: ‘Do you think I like that?’ His behaviour, as if she could help it that she had been spirited here to be this company’s advisor against her own wishes, made her blood start to boil, even when she was still practically freezing. ‘Do you think I just asked Gandalf to please spirit me to this godforsaken place to start telling you lot what to do? Do you think I actually liked getting cooked by trolls, chased by wargs or lorded over by elves? Are you totally _insane_?’ She didn’t know exactly when she had ended up on her feet, but suddenly she found herself eye to eye with the intimidating dwarf. But in her anger he didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. It was as if her fury prevented her from realising that it would not be such a good idea to anger someone who had probably killed more people in his life than she would ever want to know. ‘Now, if you are quite done disapproving of me, you could always do something useful and help out here. Because, for your information, there might just be a hidden trap door under all this sand and I’d like to find it before we all get abducted by goblins.’

She was panting after this rant and it occurred to her then that this possibly had not been quite the best thing to do after all. She wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to disappear into the ground right now. Never mind if it was infested with goblins, anything would be better than this compromising situation.

On the other hand this was exactly what she had wanted to say for ages, although she had to admit that the speech she had in mind would be directed against Thorin rather than Dwalin. Anyway, it was out now and she would not be able to take any of it back.

She could feel all the dwarves’ eyes on her, so she knelt down and started digging again, pretending not to notice the looks that were thrown her way. At least Balin didn’t make much of it. He followed her example and started helping her. Thorin seemed to take the ranting personally – as he should. The dwarf king was sending her his most intense stare, but Kate did her best to ignore him. Things were already far too awkward for her liking.

She was almost glad when her fingers felt something that was definitely not a piece of rock. It was cold and most definitely metal. ‘Shit!’ she cursed.

‘What have you got there, lass?’ Balin glanced over her shoulder when she removed the last earth and sand to reveal something that looked like a thick metal door underneath it.

‘The front gate, I think.’ Kate didn’t like to be proven right, not in this case anyway and the idea that she was sitting on a door that might just open any time without her knowing was rather unnerving. ‘Let’s get out of here before it opens.’

Thorin, although less than happy, nodded and already started moving towards the exit. Dwalin stared at the metal and then at Kate, clearly not wanting to believe what she said. ‘And then what do you propose?’ he demanded. ‘That we remain outside? Do you want to get tossed around by stone giants?’

Her anger had been disappearing, but Dwalin’s altogether unreasonable question brought it back to the surface. ‘Do _you_ fancy an involuntary visit to Goblin-town?’ she countered. ‘In that case you’re more than welcome to stay and make yourself comfortable, while the rest of us go and find a cave that doesn’t have the risk of caving in.’

She turned her back on him and marched out well ahead of the rest, trying to bite back tears of frustration. Was this what she had to look forward to: constantly fighting to prove herself, to prove that she was not just some kind of fraud? She felt that strongly with Dwalin. He had never been her biggest fan, but his words hurt nonetheless. Thorin was a bit more subtle about it, but only because he could not afford not to believe her. He needed to if he wanted this quest to be a success. There was however no doubt about his personal feelings on the matter. He hated that book of hers and he only put up with her because he could not afford not to. He had seen her knowledge proven several times now, so even if he was in no mood to believe any of it, he had to for the sake of the company. Kate as a person was still as unwelcome as she had ever been.

Kate didn’t think she had felt so unwanted ever since her father had told her he did not have any wish for having contact with her. So when she stepped outside and the rain and wind started streaming her face again, she was grateful for it, because she would never let the company see her cry. Not ever. They weren’t worth it.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I wish I was home. Thorin may only have told Bilbo that he had no place amongst them, but essentially the same holds true for me as well. What was Gandalf even thinking, bringing me here?_


	18. Emergency

**Chapter 18**

**Emergency**

 

_We had to search two more caves before we found one that was suitable. The first one was so small the four of us hardly fit in there at all and the second seemed to have become a safe haven for goblins as well. It was empty when we went there, but there were several of their weapons scattered around the place and down the back we found bones. I had no desire to know who they had belonged to in life, but of course Dwalin had blurted out that the bones were human before I even got the chance to voice my unwillingness to know._

_We finally found a cave big enough for all of us some five minutes away from the plateau. It was quite a business getting everyone there, especially since the ponies were all rather jumpy. Óin’s in fact was so jumpy that it jumped right of the cliff when the lightning hit somewhere close to it. Fortunately Óin himself wasn’t actually on it, so all in all we were rather lucky._

_Nonetheless things were all rather glum and I found myself wishing for home. I had known I was not really welcome here before, but never had it been so obvious to me as it was then. So I retreated in a small corner while Gandalf entertained the group by turning the smoke rings the rest of the company was making into bright colours and the glum mood that had been dampening all of our spirits, started to lift considerably. The trials of being threatened by stone giants were all but forgotten already._

_Really, at that moment I felt like I was the only one who was not sharing in the celebrations…_

 

The noise had gradually started to die down ever since Thorin had ordered that they should try and get some rest, because they would start again at first light. That was the plan at the very least. The dwarf king sincerely hoped that the storm would blow away overnight and make the pass way passable again. He didn’t feel like staying here for longer than was strictly necessary. He knew they had avoided making camp on the goblins’ doorstep, but that cave was only a few minutes’ walk from this one and he could not feel at ease knowing those foul creatures so close.

He had retreated into a small niche of the cave, some distance away from the rest of the company. Here he had the space to think and smoke, trying to sort out his thoughts. They were not happy thoughts. The events of the day had made it clear to him, once again, that Kate held knowledge that was useful to them. It didn’t do much to improve his mood that Balin also had been right. He had trusted Kate to know what was about to happen and she had not let him down. If not for her intervention they would either all be dead on the bottom of the ravine or taken prisoner by goblins. Thorin had given her the opportunity to use her knowledge and now that he had, she had been able to use it.

That thought led almost automatically to the next one. If she could indeed use her knowledge now, might she also be able to use it to their advantage, to avoid the battle she had told them was coming? To prevent the deaths of several of his companions? But that would mean that she would have to have some measure of influence on his decisions and he was not quite sure yet he was ready to take such a step.

The company advisor was curled up against a rock wall in a nearby corner. Thorin didn’t think she was asleep. Her posture was too rigid for that. She had wrapped her arms around her knees, holding them as if she would fall apart if she as much as loosened her grip. Her head was placed upon her knees, the damp red curls obscuring her face. She didn’t move and if Thorin had not seen her shoulders move with her breathing, he might have thought her dead.

For once he thought he had some idea of what was ailing her. Dwalin’s disbelief, his hostility, had hurt her deeply. She had tried to hide it, but Thorin was not blind. He had noticed the hurt, the pain underneath the angry spark in her eyes. For a moment he had not seen a young, confident woman with a temper, but a frightened child. For all her if-you-won’t-believe-me-that’s-your-problem-not-mine talk, she had reacted rather hurt.

Maybe he should have told Dwalin that this was taking it a bit too far, but the shock of finding the door Kate had spoken of had temporarily rendered him speechless. He had only been able to listen with half an ear to the argument unfolding under his very nose as he had looked down on the trap door that had been hidden underneath the sand. It was goblin-made beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had run into them more times than he cared to remember and was therefore quite familiar with their work and that door had written goblins all over it.

He was snapped out of his musings by someone passing him, sitting down next to Kate.

‘Bilbo,’ she acknowledged, lifting her head to look at the burglar.

‘Miss Andrews,’ Bilbo greeted. The hobbit wrapped his hands around his knees as well, ending up in a posture that was very much like Kate’s.

‘It’s Kate,’ she corrected him wearily. ‘I hear Thorin calling me by my surname all the time already and I so happen to like my first better.’

‘Kate then.’ The halfling sounded a bit hesitant about it.

The advisor managed a smile, even when it didn’t reach her eyes. It was only when Thorin saw her face that he realised that she had probably been crying. They had left a few torches burning and there wasn’t much light in the cave, but her eyes were swollen and red, that much he could see.

‘Can’t sleep either?’ she asked.

The hobbit gave her a wry smile in reply. ‘I was just doing some thinking.’

Kate nodded her understanding. ‘About what Thorin said to you earlier?’

Mr Baggins looked at her in surprise. ‘You heard that?’

That earned him a snort. ‘It was a bit hard to miss, really. He was practically shouting it. I’m more or less surprised the giants didn’t hear him actually.’

Thorin was fairly sure that neither of them realised that they weren’t the only ones awake in the cave. Maybe he should give them some clue as to him being awake, because he was also fairly sure that this was a conversation not meant for his ears. This was private. The hobbit may even have sought her out when everyone was already asleep especially for this purpose.

But Thorin had always been curious as a lad and growing up hadn’t cured him of that. He had learned to control it, but that did not mean he could not give in to it every now and then. And these two were bound to discuss him and he could not pretend, not even to himself, that he did not want to know what they were about to say.

Or rather, he was interested in what Kate had to say. The hobbit’s opinion did not matter to him. What he had told Mr Baggins that afternoon on the plateau still held true: the halfling had no place amongst them and the sooner he realised that for himself, the better it would be. The company would be well rid of him. Thorin for one couldn’t wait to see the back of him.

Kate was another matter entirely. Whilst Thorin was still none too happy with her presence in the company, she had her uses. Strangely enough that blasted book of hers had helped saving them and it had been Kate’s insistence that had helped them get away from the danger in the nick of time. He owed her for that, if nothing else. And he even had to admit that Dwalin had treated her unfairly. To see her this miserable didn’t sit well with him, especially since it had been well within his power to do something about it.

‘He was right, though,’ Bilbo muttered. ‘I don’t even know what I am doing here.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Kate told him forcefully. ‘You’re the burglar. The company needs you. You’re meant to be here.’

Thorin had a feeling there was more to that than the hobbit could possibly know. To Thorin it meant that Kate thought that it was essential that Mr Baggins accompanied the quest. For the first time ever he wished he knew what was actually in that book, what had made Kate feel so strongly about this. For the first time ever he found he wanted to know what she knew. That shocked him for only a moment. Had he really just wished for her knowledge? He must be losing it.

‘I’m not a burglar,’ Bilbo pointed out.

Thorin could see Kate smile wryly. ‘And for what it’s worth, I’m not much of an advisor either. But we’re here now. We might as well make the best of it.’

Her optimism, if that was what it could be called, was surprising. Thorin would not have thought she would already have resigned herself to actually being with them. For all he knew she was still desperate to return home and the only thing preventing her from going back was that meddlesome excuse for a wizard.

‘But it’s not the same for you, though, is it?’ Bilbo questioned. There was a rather sharp edge to his voice. ‘You don’t have a choice. You’ve got nothing to return to, do you? I do. Thorin said I should never have come here and he was right.’

‘Gandalf did have his reasons for choosing you,’ Kate argued. ‘Mind you, I’m not too pleased with him either, but I think his intentions are good.’

Thorin could only just stop himself from snorting at that claim. As far as he was aware Miss Andrews hated the wizard with a passion for bringing her to Middle Earth. And she would probably be right to be so too. So why would she out of all people defend Gandalf’s actions? She should side with Bilbo, since they were both victims of his plotting.

For once Bilbo Baggins seemed to agree with him. ‘Why do you defend his actions, Kate? You don’t want to be here either. Why are you making excuses for him?’

Kate shrugged, not meeting the hobbit’s eyes. ‘I wish I knew.’

But that was a lie and Thorin knew it. He had heard enough liars in his lifetime and Kate Andrews was definitely not speaking the truth. She had reasons to act as she did. And she also did not plan on sharing any of those with the halfling sitting next to her. It was almost as if she was trying to give the hobbit a reason to stay, the dwarf reflected. Would his presence truly be that necessary for the success of the quest? He found that very hard to believe.

‘Maybe,’ Kate spoke thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I just want to believe that I am here for a reason. Maybe I need that or else I’ll lose my mind.’ There was such loneliness, such desperation in her voice as Thorin had never heard before. He had seen it, a little of it, that night at Bag End, when she had been begging Gandalf with tears in her eyes to send her back to her home. But it was ten times stronger now. This was someone who had nowhere to go to, stuck in a situation she had never believed she would find herself in.

And Thorin could relate to that. He knew exactly what that felt like. He had felt it too, after Erebor was taken, after the battle of Azanulbizar when his entire family had been torn apart in one single day. Grandfather, father and brother all gone in the span of just a few hours, leaving him alone in the world and with the responsibility of an entire people on his shoulders.

‘I’m going back to Rivendell,’ the hobbit suddenly announced after a lengthy silence. ‘Thorin said I should never have come and I agree. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I should never have run out of my door. You should come with me.’

There was another silence after that announcement. Thorin could not say that it was a surprise that Mr Baggins had made this decision, but he could say he was glad of it. His departure would rid him of the greatest burden he had encountered in a long time. He was however not sure about the notion of Miss Andrews leaving with him. Slowly, and quite against his will, he had to admit that she could be useful and to have her take her leave now would rob them all of a chance to change certain events.

That thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Since when did he admit that her knowledge was anything even approaching useful? But then he recalled the timely warning on the cliff and her warning not to camp in the cave with the goblins’ front gate and he knew exactly since when he was thinking like this. Mind you, it didn’t mean that he suddenly liked it, but it did mean that he really had no choice left but to accept her presence. Lately it would seem he didn’t have a choice in anything at all.

‘And waste my chance of ever getting home again?’ Kate countered. ‘I’ve got a deal with Gandalf now. Who says he’s to send me back if I don’t hold up my end of the bargain?’ She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I appreciate the offer, but no.’

This really was all about getting home, wasn’t it? For all of them really. They were here and every single one of the company wanted to get home. Mr Baggins wanted to go back to his comfortable hobbit-hole, his men wanted a home that was currently inhabited by a dragon and Kate wanted to get back to wherever her home was in that world of hers. Gandalf was the only one not wanting to go home. Thorin wasn’t even sure the wizard had one. He was only here because he deemed the dragon a threat he wanted to eliminate. In that particular way Thorin knew he was being used by the old man, but he did not mind that, not really. Eventually they wanted the same thing: to see that monster killed and Erebor restored as a strong kingdom. If that meant he had to overlook some ulterior motives in exchange for Gandalf’s help, then that was what he would do.

‘You could live with me in the Shire,’ Bilbo spoke up, sounding rather enthusiastic about his own idea. ‘You’d love it there. You don’t need to risk your life here. They don’t even like you. Why would you stay with them when it’s only too clear they want you gone?’

The advisor sighed. ‘Because I already have a home and I want to see it again. And I want to get back to my family and friends as well. Really, I know your intentions are good, but I can’t accept.’

Bilbo thought about that for a moment, but then he nodded. ‘I understand,’ he said.

Kate favoured him with half a smile. ‘Get some sleep, Bilbo. Look at it fresh in the morning. We’re not doing each other any good right now.’ Her voice sounded exhausted.

The hobbit got up, bade her a good night and walked back to his bedroll. Kate however made no move to get any sleep. She kept sitting in the same posture she had been sitting in since Thorin had been watching her. Maybe he should go and talk to her.

And maybe he should not. After all, he could not really go and put his image at risk only to comfort a woman who was feeling a bit under the weather. He wasn’t even sure how he regarded her these days. But then, she was his ally right now. He supposed that meant he should at least pretend to be interested.

As it happened, he didn’t need to make that decision. Kate made it for him. ‘I know you’re awake,’ came her voice.

He got up and moved a little closer as to not wake the others. ‘You should be asleep,’ he told her sternly. ‘We’ll leave at first light and you cannot afford to be sleepy on these narrow paths.’

‘Hello pot, this is kettle speaking,’ was the sarcastic reply. ‘You’re black too, by the way. If I promise not to fall asleep on you, could you please go and mind your own business, preferably somewhere else?’

She was hurting and lashing out. Thorin occasionally had been guilty of doing as well. He understood why she did it, even if he didn’t like it. ‘Why did you not take up the hobbit’s offer?’ he questioned.

Miss Andrews sent him a mocking glance. ‘So good to hear that private conversations remain private around here. Anyway, you already heard, so why bother asking? You already know and believe me, it’s not because I am so fond of your bloody company.’

‘Dwalin was out of line,’ Thorin felt obliged to say. ‘He did not have the right to speak to you in that way.’ And he hadn’t. All dwarves were brought up to treasure women above all else, to treat them with respect. Dwalin had most definitely not been doing that.

Her eyebrows were raised. ‘So now you’re what? A sodding social worker?’ she inquired. ‘You should stick to being king, because this really doesn’t suit you.’ The woman was really trying not to answer his questions by sending verbal attacks his way. Fortunately for the dwarf king he had a mental armour that was stronger than the doors of Erebor. He felt he could ignore it.

‘Then go and get some sleep,’ he told her. ‘Instead of wallowing here in self-pity.’

Now that riled her, as he had suspected it would. ‘I _beg_ your pardon?’ she hissed, eyes blazing in fury. ‘How I feel is none of your concern, thank you very much. And forgive me if I don’t take the words of a man who keeps brooding over some great piece of rock seriously!’ She at least had the good sense to keep her voice down, but it was the tone that really mattered here.

And despite his mental armour, he could feel his own anger rise. ‘How dare you?’ he growled. ‘How dare you compare my concerns with your petty complaints?’

The next thing he knew was a hand slapped against his cheek and Kate’s angry face glaring at him. The slap hardly hurt – her human strength, or rather lack of it, was downright pathetic – but it was the action itself that counted and Thorin Oakenshield was not used to being treated like that, by no one. His reflexes kicked in before he even thought about it, gripping both her hands before she could strike again, as she was so clearly planning.

‘I don’t think so,’ he told her in his most commanding voice.

‘Let go off me!’ She struggled, but to no avail. Thorin hardly felt her efforts. ‘Let go off me and bother somebody else!’ To his surprise there were tears in her eyes again and that was unexpected. She was angry, right, not sad?

‘Do you promise not to hit me again?’ he asked warily.

‘Yes, yes, now let me go!’ She still tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp.

It was only then that the dwarf realised that her hands were all but ice-cubes against his skin. ‘Your hands are cold,’ he remarked.

‘Very well spotted, Einstein,’ she sneered. ‘And if you are quite done stating the obvious, could you just keep yours to yourself?’

But he ignored her. She should be used to that by now. Instead of letting her go he took the time to really look at her and it didn’t take him long to realise that her clothing was far too thin for this temperature. ‘Where is your coat?’ he demanded.

‘Over there,’ she beckoned with her head, since she still did not have the use of her hands. ‘Drying. Not that it is any of your concern, Mr Oakenshield.’

‘It is when one of the members of my company catches her death because she was poorly clothed,’ Thorin countered easily. The last thing they could use was a sick advisor. Travelling would be slower and far more difficult if she could hardly remain seated on her pony because she was feverish.

‘I am not poorly clothed, you oaf!’ she hissed.

Thorin ignored that. He released her hands and took off his coat, that had long since dried.

Kate eyed that suspiciously. ‘ _What_ are you doing?’

‘Making sure your stubbornness doesn’t get you killed,’ the dwarf replied, offering her the coat. ‘Put that on.’

She pretended not to see the coat. ‘That’s rich!’ she fumed. ‘From someone who is more stubborn than the rest of the world population put together.’

‘It was an order, Miss Andrews,’ he reminded her. ‘If you get sick, you will delay our journey and I cannot allow that to happen. So you have a choice to either put on the coat yourself or have me do it for you.’ He had been using this tone occasionally when Fíli and Kíli were still young and had gotten it into their heads that they were in no mood to obey. Practically it was the same here. Kate was very much behaving like a stubborn toddler.

‘I don’t think so!’ she bristled, eyeing the piece of clothing as if it contained some kind of contagious disease. ‘I am fine, thank you very much. And now get the hell out of here!’ Her voice was rising, but fortunately none of the others woke.

Why was he even having this discussion with her? He should just leave her to her own devices and let her get ill, since that was what she so obviously desired. But he knew he would regret such a decision as soon as she started to feel unwell and started delaying the quest and so he decided against it. She was acting like a child, so he would have to treat her like one. He simply wrapped the coat around her, ignoring her feeble attempts at getting away from him and then drew her against his chest.

‘Stop your struggles, you headstrong woman!’ he snapped at her.

‘As soon as you let go of me,’ she countered, trying to get away, but he had her properly sandwiched between his arms and chest. She could not move unless he allowed her to. And while she may be perfectly content to freeze to death, he was not going to be accommodating on that account. He had a feeling Gandalf would blast him to death if he allowed such a thing to happen.

‘You’re going to be the death of me one day,’ he muttered. ‘Will you stay where you are if I let you go?’ He wasn’t really in favour of this arrangement himself, but she needed to get warmed up and body heat would be the quickest way. And he would not ask this of anyone else. Not because he didn’t trust them, but just because it would be strange to ask of someone else what he was perfectly capable of doing himself.

Kate sent him a glare, but her body betrayed her. She was shivering, he felt now, and her body instinctively got closer to the source of warmth. He would have smirked if he had believed he could have done so safely. As it was, she would probably hit him again or move away into the cold. Or she would just do both those things.

If the look in her eyes was anything to go by, she was fully aware of the situation. She sighed deeply and then just laid her head on his chest, trying to make herself comfortable. ‘Just don’t get any ideas,’ she warned him. ‘And keep your hands to yourself or I’ll make personally sure you’ll be singing soprano for the rest of your life.’

It took him all he had not to laugh out loud at that threat. He did not harbour such thoughts at all and he was sure Kate knew that too. And the very notion of her hurting him that badly was just laughable. She would never be able to. This was just her trying to show her displeasure with the situation, pretending not to give in too easily. For someone who accused him of being stubborn, she had a large amount of that trait herself.

The advisor soon started to doze off. It was clear she did not want to, but she was more or less comfortable now and she was exhausted and she lost the fight against the sleep. If only the dwarf king could sleep that easily. He looked down at Kate, her face relaxed in slumber, peaceful even without all the frowns and hard expressions that she had become known for in the company. He got a glimpse now of the carefree woman in the painting.

 _You’re sleepy_ , his brain told him. _You’re getting soft_.

He huffed at his own mental voice, but supposed it was right. So he let his head lean against the wall and closed his eyes to get some much needed sleep. The cave was silent save for Bombur’s snoring and it was long past midnight. Best get some hours rest while he had the chance.

It felt like he had only closed his eyes for some minutes – but some instinct told him it had been longer – when a noise dragged him back into consciousness again. For a moment he kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore it. But the noise didn’t cease and after a few seconds it came to him that a noise of stone getting dragged over another stone had really no business here in this cave.

He was fully awake the moment that realisation got through to his no longer sleepy brain. Something was off here. He opened his eyes and searched the cave for any signs of trouble.

He found it all too soon. A crack had opened in the far wall of the cave, revealing a dark black hole behind it. Thorin was one hundred percent sure that this crack and opening had not been there when he had gone to sleep. _It’s either a crack in the wall that will be able to open or a trap door hidden underneath the sand_ , Kate had said.

His mind was easily capable of filling in the blanks. Goblins!

 

***

 

Kate knew that she was dreaming. She was fairly certain of that, because when she opened her eyes she was sitting on the grass in her mother’s back garden with Jacko next to her, telling her enthusiastically about how wonderful his girlfriend Jane was. She let herself lie back and folded her hands under her head, simply enjoying the simplicity of the situation. It had been long since she had felt so at ease, so at home and she just wished the situation could last. Of course it couldn’t and she knew that she would all too soon open her eyes to the dim light of the chilly cave. Best enjoy it while she could.

Jacko laughed. ‘Well, enough about me and Jane,’ he said, looking down at her with a teasing grin. ‘Let’s talk about you.’

‘What’s there to tell?’ she wondered. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend to get all excited about anymore. Not since I dumped Marc at least.’

Jacko frowned in confusion. ‘I thought you and Thorin were together?’

Now that got her attention and she sat up in one sudden movement. ‘What? _No_! What on earth gave you that idea?’ She had no idea how her own personal pain in the arse had found his way into this dream, but she certainly did not like it at all.

Her twin sent her a mocking grin in reply. ‘Oh, come on, Katie. The two of you were all over each other last I saw you.’

That made her almost choke on her own tongue. ‘ _What_?’ she snarled. ‘Me and Thorin? Are you completely insane, Jacko? I have no idea what you’re even talking about. You don’t even know him!’

She used to have absurd dreams as a child, but she had long since grown out of them. These days she did not even remember what she dreamed when she woke again. She found herself wishing she would not remember this either.

‘You must be getting a little forgetful, sis,’ Jacko said, shaking his head. ‘He was over here yesterday. Quite a nice guy actually, although he’s quite a bit older than you, isn’t he?’

She didn’t know why, but suddenly she found herself wishing the ground would open and swallow her up before this could get any more embarrassing. She had no idea how it was even possible for her to dream something like this, but she was quite certain that she wanted to wake up. As in right now.

‘I didn’t ask you to involve yourself in my love life, you know,’ she snapped at Jacko. Not that there was much of a love life going on at the moment, but this dream version of her brother seemed to have deluded himself into thinking there was.

Jacko ignored her. ‘Oh, look. He’s here now. Hey, Thorin, over here!’ He waved at someone behind Kate.

She looked over her shoulder and almost choked all over again when she saw that it was indeed the grumpy dwarf king that walked, no, majestically strutted, into the garden. He for some reason was still wearing all his armour and the fur-lined coat, despite the fact that it was so hot outside that even Kate in her summer dress felt criminally overheated. His expression was as stern as it ever was. Nice guy, Jacko had said? He must be either blind or deaf, or both.

‘What are you doing here?’ she moaned. ‘Get out of my dream. I have to put up with you in daily life already. Must you now invade my dreams as well?’

Thorin, very predictably, ignored her. He knelt down and grabbed her shoulders, gently shaking them. ‘Wake up, Kate,’ he told her urgently.

Now that caused her to frown. ‘What on earth has happened to Miss Andrews?’ So far he had only called her Kate when he had practically been forced to do so in Rivendell. To say it out of his own free will was unheard of.

He groaned in frustration. ‘We do not have the time for this. There are goblins. You need to wake up and you need to wake up _now_.’

This kept getting more ridiculous by the second. She glanced around her and noticed to her surprise that Jacko had gone. And she was no longer in the garden either. And she was not in her summer dress anymore. Instead she looked at the fur that now covered her, looking remarkably like…

Oh _shit_! This was not a dream anymore, was it? This was real and she was wide awake, in the very middle of a cave filled with dwarves who were all waking up, grabbing their weapons. Her sleepy brain did not understand why they would be grabbing their weapons. There were no enemies here, were there?

And then the last thing Thorin had said to her registered. Goblins. There were goblins here. But that was not possible. They had avoided the goblins. She had taken care of that, she remembered that. So they could not possibly be here.

The goblins didn’t seem to agree with her logic. She heard screeching and turned on her heels, causing Thorin – when had he taken her arms anyway? – to let go. And then she found herself staring at the most disgusting creatures she had ever laid eyes on. The movie had given her an idea of what to expect, but it all felt like a horrible understatement now. But never mind their ugliness now, it were their weapons and their numbers that concerned her now.

Dozens of goblins came pouring out of a crack in the wall that most certainly had not been there before. Of this she was certain. And she had hardly any time to think about this at all. If she had the good fortune to make it out alive, that was something she could later think about. Right now it would be a priority to get out of here as fast as she possibly could.

‘Hold your ground!’ Thorin bellowed at the company, whilst roughly shoving Kate behind him in the same go. ‘Close ranks!’

Kate backed away. She still had trouble processing what was even happening here, utterly confused as to how it was even possible that this was happening in the first place. Thorin’s shove sent her falling down, tripping over her own feet. She came down next to her backpack and the sword.

All it took was one moment to make a decision. She was not going to go down without a fight. She preferred to do her fighting with words, but something told her that a tongue-lashing might not do the trick here. And Dwalin had said that she was improving somewhat with her sword. She’d be damned if she was not going to use it.

Kate’s hands were trembling as she took it and got to her feet again. The others were already taking on their attackers. Dwalin didn’t seem to have a problem with taking on multiple goblins at a time and Thorin wielded his axe with a deadly efficiency that made Kate glad that they were on the same side for most of the time. Kíli took turns shooting and knocking goblins down with his bow while his brother was trying to be better than Dwalin by trying to tackle five goblins at once.

It would have gone well for them had those first goblins to enter the cave been the only ones. But their numbers kept increasing and deep down she knew that it was hopeless. The panic started to rise and would almost effectively reduce her to a snivelling wreck, incapable of doing anything even remotely useful. Now she already doubted her usefulness in a fight – as did the rest of the company – but if she allowed herself to dwell on that, she was bound to be just as useless as everyone already thought she was. And she was quite certain that would not be helpful at all.

‘Get back!’ Thorin ordered her. ‘Stay out of this.’

Somehow, when she had been trying to decide what to do, he had come closer, driven back by the number of goblins that was threatening to overtake them rapidly. This inevitably meant that she was getting closer to the fight as well. Oh, she sure didn’t like the sound of that!

But the commanding tone triggered a reaction from her nonetheless. It must be a law of nature. Kate didn’t have any other explanation for the snappy response that came out of her mouth. ‘Well, I am trying!’ she growled at him. ‘You should start working on your abilities to keep the fight away from me in the first place before you start telling me to stay away from it!’

She could see the dwarf was dying to reply to that, but another opponent claimed his attention. The same was true for Kate. All of a sudden she found herself opposite a smirking goblin with one very sharp looking blade in his hands. Up close they were even uglier than from a small distance. This one was missing several teeth and his skin looked like someone had accidentally added bits of flesh were none should have existed. And his smell would be enough to make anyone run away as fast as their legs could carry them, begging for fresh air. As far as Kate was aware, neither book nor movie had ever made mention of the smell of unwashed goblin – not that she believed there was such a thing as a washed goblin.

But now was hardly the time to carry out a study about the lack of washing habits among goblins. Right now, the intentions of this one were crystal clear. The sword pointed at her was a dead giveaway and unless she started doing something now, she was bound to end up rather dead herself.

It must be some kind of instinct to save her own skin that caused her to point her blade at the goblin’s chest before she even remembered that she was actually holding the blade in the first place. ‘Stay back!’ she warned him.

The fact that she was neither dwarf nor male seemed to have caught the goblin off guard, which was probably the only reason why he had not yet run her through. ‘A girl?’ His voice sent shivers down Kate’s spine and not in a good way.

‘Stay back!’ she repeated nervously, clenching her sword with both hands. All Dwalin’s lessons seemed to have vanished into thin air and the only thing she could stupidly remember about sword fighting was something about sticking them with the pointy end, something she was quite sure the warrior had never told her. It must be something from her own world, even if she could not recall now where she had heard the phrase.

The goblin of course was not in the least impressed with that. He favoured her with another smirk that made her want to run and hide and then he launched himself forward. That very same moment Kate’s arms seemed to develop a will of their own. They made a stabbing movement that impaled the goblin on the blade.

For a moment it was hard to make out who was more surprised that she had actually managed to land a blow: Kate or the goblin. Then the goblin slumped down and it was quite certain that Kate was the only one left of them to feel surprised. The goblin sure as hell didn’t feel anything anymore, given the fact that he was conveniently dead.

Her victory was short-lived however. She had only just wrenched her blade free again when something hit her on the back of the head and she lost her balance, stumbling back and tripping over something that caused her to fall against what felt like the rocks.

‘Ouch!’ she exclaimed.

‘Kate!’ someone yelled. Her vision was strangely blurred and her reactions were sloppy too, but she thought it might be Dori. He still had not given up on his fussing habits, it would seem.

For a brief moment she wondered why he had sounded so panicked, but then the question answered itself. There were hands grabbing, pulling at her. She tried to struggle, but it was just as much use as when she had been trying to fight Thorin off. There were far too many goblins now and although she had the satisfaction of seeing one of them howl in pain when she managed to kick him in his private parts, in the long run it made no difference at all.

Her vision had cleared now, the dizziness caused by the blow to the head wearing off, and Kate could see that she was not the only one getting pushed and pulled toward that blasted crack in the wall. Her companions were restrained as well, with the sole exception of the wizard. Where the hell was Gandalf anyway? Should he not be here to help them?

But the wizard’s whereabouts were the very least of all of their worries when the goblins forced them through that crack. It closed behind them with a thud and they were effectively trapped.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _How in Durin’s name is this even possible? The woman swore we had avoided the goblins!_


	19. Health and Safety

**Chapter 19**

**Health and Safety**

 

_Quite frankly I had no clue as to what was even happening to us when we were forced down, deeper all the time. Stupidly the only thing that kept gnawing away at me was the absurdity of the situation. How was it even possible that we were now being snatched book-style when we had only just avoided getting abducted movie-style? It was too absurd to even think about._

_But the reason behind this abduction was of course the very least of my worries. It was utterly dark in these tunnels. I could not even see the hands that were grasping and pinching me and somehow that made the experience all the more terrifying. Someone could stab me and I could die and no one would ever find me, because it was so dark. Now that realisation wasn’t helpful at all._

_But no one felt the need to stab me, yet, and after what felt like hours there appeared a light at the end of the tunnel…_

 

Kate thought she was in a state of shock. That was the only reason why she wasn’t panicking and screaming for help. There was a good chance the blow to the head had something to do with that as well. Her head was throbbing and she was quite sure her steps were a little unbalanced too. But it was hard to be sure. The goblins didn’t give her opportunity to stumble. Their firm grip on her arms was surely going to bruise. That was, if she lived long enough for the bruises to start forming.

Now that snapped her out of her shock. She was in danger here, mortal danger quite possibly. Her brain was trying to tell her that there was absolutely no chance of getting killed, since no one in either book or movie died in Goblin-town, but there was also a part of her brain that knew that the story as she knew it not always had it right. She had only to remember the trolls to know that. And, come to think of it, this was not supposed to happen either. They had avoided the front gate. They had found it and searched out another cave for shelter. And even that one had, at Thorin’s insistence, been thoroughly searched.

But her denial was not going to be of any use now, because they were here and that was the situation they needed to deal with. Not that there was much to deal with now. The goblins were too many and too strong. Kate could hear the other members of the company swear and struggle, but to no avail. She struggled herself, but only because she could not stand to be dragged down here, knowing that she had not at least tried to do something to resist. The goblins only seemed to think it funny.

And the utter darkness around her did not help her calm down, at all. How anyone could see where they were going here was entirely beyond her. All she could hear was the sound of their own footsteps, the curses and struggles of her companions and the cruel laughter of the goblins. It made her want to scream in pure terror.

She did not scream, but she came close. Somewhere off in the distance she could see the faint glow of light. For a moment she was almost sure that she had imagined it, a result of her desperate wish for light, but as they moved closer towards it, she could see that it was real. There really was a light at the end of the tunnel.

This end of the tunnel did not yet prove to be the end of the journey, nor did it do anything to steady Kate’s nerves. Instead of tunnels they were now forced to walk over wooden contraptions and bridges that gave every impression of being in disrepair for over years. She had the frightening thought that they would break as soon as one as much as jumped on them, sending the unfortunate persons on it flying to their death on the hard rocks many metres below them. She could see the dark abyss through the cracks in the woods and it made her want to scream in fear. Kate had never been one to be afraid of heights. True, back at the ravine she had not exactly been comfortable, but she had managed. This, this was another matter entirely.

This nightmare too seemed to last for an eternity, but eventually the journey did end. There was another opening in the rock at the end of one particularly weak looking wooden bridge and the goblins drove them towards it, cackling even louder than they already were when they forced their prisoners into what looked like a large cave, lit up with the light of dozens of torches. The smell of the place made Kate want to throw up where she stood and it was so filthy that she was quite sure this place had not been tidied up in the last few hundred years, but it was light and that in itself was a relief, even though it wasn’t much.

The goblins obviously had some sort of plan. They forced their prisoners onwards to what appeared to be a large cage in the corner of the cave. She tried to resist getting locked up there, because she was pretty sure that she could never ever escape from it once she was in there, but she was only one and the goblins outnumbered her ten to one. It really wasn’t much of a contest.

The other members of the company struggled as well, but in the end they too were all shoved in, the door was shut and the lock was turned. Bombur, the last one to join them, was pushed in with so much force that he tripped over his own feet and fell over, right on top of the company advisor.

‘Ouch!’ Kate exclaimed. ‘Get off me!’ Bombur was a kind and spontaneous fellow, but the fact remained that he was too fat for his own good. And right now his body weight was forcing the air from Kate’s lungs, making it hard for her to breathe.

Bombur tried to comply with that request, but it was clearly not that easy for him, because he tripped again, effectively pinning Kate to the ground once more just as she was about to get to her feet. The goblins, who could all enjoy the show from the other side of the bars, laughed out loud.

‘What are you looking at?’ someone demanded of them in an angry growl. ‘Go and mind your own business.’ The next moment the weight was lifted off Kate. ‘On your feet.’

Kate was grateful to them, whoever they were and tried to stand up again. She was still a little dizzy and she almost lost her balance again, which would have sent her face first to the floor had it not been for the hand that suddenly came out of nowhere to steady her. ‘Careful, lass.’

Her head swivelled in the direction of the voice and she found herself looking at Dwalin’s face. Now that took her by surprise. Since when did he care about what happened to her? Last she checked he had been none too pleased with her presence. But apparently things could change, especially in situations like this one, when they were stuck in a cage.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, unsure of what else to say. She wasn’t even sure she should.

Thorin meanwhile was carrying out a quick head count. ‘… Dori, Nori, Bifur and Glóin. That’s fourteen.’ A deep frown was etched into his forehead. ‘Where’s Gandalf?’

‘Moving in mysterious ways,’ Kate muttered under her breath. The wizard seemed to have banished into thin air for all she knew. At any rate she had not seen him since she had woken.

The goblins had turned away now that the show was over, arguing amongst themselves. They at least had other and better things to do than to mind their prisoners’ conversation, which was definitely a good thing, since goblins didn’t seem the kind of creatures that would be happy to learn that they had missed out on two other possible prisoners.

‘Haven’t seen him since the fight began,’ Bombur reported.

‘I think I saw him in the other back end of the cave shortly before we were all grabbed,’ Dori said thoughtfully. ‘He was taking on a few goblins of his own, so he must have escaped.’

‘Or killed,’ Ori chimed in.

There was actually no one who wanted to believe in that possibility, so he was ignored. All the same Kate did not believe in the wizard’s death. He was as handy with his sword as he was with his staff and as far as she knew he was only that innocent old grandfather type when it suited him. The idea that Gandalf was dead was as ridiculous as the idea of the goblins only inviting them in for tea and biscuits.

‘He might have abandoned us,’ Dwalin spoke up.

Now there was something no one wanted to hear. Kate personally did not believe Gandalf would abandon them that easily. He needed this company to do some dragon-slaying for him after all. No, the advisor thought that Gandalf was really planning on turning up when they needed it most. She would however have no objection against the notion of him turning up right now.

‘He’ll be back for us,’ she spoke up, speaking the words as forcefully as she could. It was more of a desperate hope than a solid belief and she knew it.

Apparently the real events did as they pleased. It was no good throwing the book and movie against them. The way Kate saw it these days the real events followed the storyline only loosely. At one event they followed the movie, at another the book. And the of course there were the events when book and movie seemed to have blended into one, making it impossible for her to determine where one ended and the other began. To top it off there were also moments when the real events bothered with neither.

This appeared to be one such occasion. Because there had been nothing in either book or movie about the goblins having another door so bloody close to their front gate. Kate would almost start to doubt her own memories about the very existence of the door they had found only the day before, but she also knew nothing was wrong with her memory. This was entirely unexpected: an unexpected journey down to Goblin-town, not exactly what she had in mind when she joined this company.

But the company didn’t really question her bold statement. Kate figured they all really wanted to believe her, which was why they did believe it. Dwalin sent her a questioning glance to go with his curt nod, but he didn’t really seem to doubt her. He was just keeping up appearances probably.

It was Thorin who seemed to have grasped the double meaning of her words better than any of the others. The dwarf king favoured her with an asking, yet serious look that conveyed his question if this was book knowledge perfectly. No idea when he had decided to start relying on the book, but for once she was just glad that he did. So she nodded curtly and visible over the heads of the others. From time to time it had its advantages to be the two tallest people in the company. Dwalin was the one other tall dwarf, but he was indeed shorter than Thorin, even if it was only by half a centimetre.

It was only when they had discussed this that Kate realised that Thorin had counted only fourteen people. Last she checked there were sixteen of them. ‘Hang on, where’s Bilbo?’

Thorin’s face darkened and Kate had a feeling he had much rather she had not asked that question. He had not made it a secret that he greatly disliked the hobbit and was probably thinking they were well rid of him.

The journalist suspected Bilbo had made his own little trip down the rabbit hole, correction: goblin hole, but she wanted to be sure. Since this real Middle Earth seemed to have a will of its own, who was to say that the events with Gollum were even really happening? The hobbit could just be dead or lost. Or maybe – a tiny flicker of hope rose in her chest – he had escaped altogether. He could be halfway back to Rivendell by now and part of her would be extremely relieved if that turned out to be the case. Of course his help would be invaluable to the quest –that was, in the case they somehow got out of this hellhole alive – but she didn’t really want him to have that encounter with Gollum either. The hobbit was not quite a friend yet – she didn’t know him well enough for them to be friends – but she wished him no harm.

‘He’s alive,’ Nori whispered.

Thorin fixed him with his most kingly stare. ‘Are you sure?’ He may not care about the hobbit at all, but to show only disinterest when his fate was being discussed, that would probably be considered rather rude, especially from the leader of the company.

Nori nodded fervently. His hair bounced happily with every nod of the head. ‘The goblins had taken him as well, but they were distracted at some point and let go of him at some time, I think. I saw, so I asked him to go back and find Gandalf.’ 

Kate remembered that there had been a bit of arguing among the goblins when they had stopped right on a wooden contraption. If that was when Bilbo had managed to escape, then he at least would have a relatively easy time getting back to the gate they had come in through. It was close to the tunnel they had emerged from and that had appeared to be one long straight passage, even when it was hard to tell in that complete darkness. Maybe they could just skip the whole Goblin king bit of the story. If Bilbo managed to find Gandalf soon, the wizard might even get them out before it could come to that. Kate found herself greatly in favour of that idea. She had no ambition whatsoever to meet the king of the goblins, at all.

Thorin seemed to take that for a fact. He nodded and then directed his attention elsewhere. Kate might have called it uncaring, but she too soon forgot about Bilbo for a time when she heard marching feet coming out of one of the tunnels that led to the cave they were in. Someone quickly shoved her behind the dwarves, along with Ori. If they were trying to obscure her from sight, Kate could already tell that was not going to work. She was one of the tallest here and her red hair never failed to get people’s attention either.

But at least it gave her the illusion of safety and that was a welcome thing indeed. It turned out that the new arrival was some kind of commander. He was a little taller than the other goblins present and he was heavily armoured, with a few guards of his own. It would seem that goblins chose their leaders based on their height, Kate observed, and not on intelligence. She was trying to decide if that made things better or worse, when the commander’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

‘What do we have here then?’ he boomed, sending a curious yet suspicious glance in their direction.

‘Dwarves,’ another goblin replied in a submissive voice. He made a low bow to go with it. ‘And a girl.’

‘Woman,’ Kate muttered under her breath. She was twenty-three for crying out loud. ‘I’m not some foolish teenage girl anymore.’

Thorin sent her a look that told her she would be better off not pursuing that point, making her want to hit him. In fact maybe that would be a good idea. Right now she was desperate for things that took her mind off this altogether frightening situation. Humour had turned out to be a good armour against frightening reality in the past and she was more than happy to slip into it again.

‘You’d better not comment on that,’ she warned the king.

Thorin seemed to catch on to what she was doing and actually managed to smirk at her. ‘I have only ever seen children shout their displeasure for all their companions to hear,’ he informed her.

She arched an eyebrow. ‘And this is coming from the man who frequently sits sulking in a corner like your average four year old?’ she countered.

‘Silence!’ the commander snapped at them. For one reason Kate suddenly felt like a naughty school girl caught chatting in the class. The goblin had just the right tone to pass for an annoyed school teacher. Unfortunately he was capable of doing far worse things to her than just make her write lines and that stopped any giggle she might have felt coming on from coming out. The harsh reality of their situation hit her once more and she shivered. That commander was looking at her as if she was going to be his lunch snack and she did not like that at all.

Thorin reacted with his usual kingly scowl, the look he had perfected unleashing it on Kate about ten times a day. The cold reaction made her almost believe he was his usual I’m-the-king-and-I-don’t-do-emotions self, but his hand slipped around Kate’s wrist while he was still fixing the commander with his most disapproving stare. If she didn’t know him any better, she would have said that he was trying to offer her support in the only way he knew how. But that notion was ridiculous and she would have asked him what the hell he did think he was doing, had she not been afraid that opening her mouth again might just cost her her life.

‘Where did you find them?’ the commander demanded of his subordinate.

‘They were sleeping right in front of the emergency exit,’ the subordinate replied. ‘There were ponies as well, and luggage.’

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ the commander bellowed. ‘Go and get it! I’ll inform the Great Goblin.’

Kate did not like the sound of that, not at all, but the thing that stuck with her most as the cave started emptying out was the place the goblin had mentioned he had found them. ‘The emergency exit?’ she repeated in an altogether incredulous tone. ‘What the hell? Did they get a visit from the Health and Safety inspection telling them that having only one door was not acceptable, just in case a fire broke out?’ Honestly, from all things she had been thinking of as an explanation – and there had been a good few in the time since they had been taken – this had not been something she had been anticipating. The goblins didn’t seem the types to value safety much, not if those bridges were anything to go by.

Dwalin snorted. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if a fire actually broke out here,’ he muttered. He seemed to have abandoned his hostile attitude for the moment and Kate was glad of it. This was hardly the time to start bickering. They could resolve any book-related issues when they were out of this blasted, stinking excuse for a town with a bloody emergency exit.

She replied with a huff, taking in their surroundings. ‘Yes, that would not be surprising at all, since they failed to comply with just about every other Health and Safety regulation in existence.’ The humour really did help in dealing with this all. It stopped her from panicking. And there was still the hope that Gandalf would come and get them out before things truly could go pear-shaped. If Bilbo had gone to find the wizard and he had found him, they could be on their way here right now, taking out every goblin with some kind of magical poof that made them drop dead on the spot. And by now Kate found herself wishing that he would make that appearance right now, because she really did not want to be taken to this Great Goblin. If he was anything like the one she had seen in the movie, then she would gladly avoid making his acquaintance.

But that choice was not up to her. The commander came back with more goblin guards at roughly the same time that the rest of the group returned with the ponies – Kate briefly wondered how it was possible the ponies had gotten over the bridges without them caving in under the weight – and the luggage. She was quite sure the ponies would soon be killed to eaten and she really regretted that, but when the commander announced that both luggage and prisoners had to be presented to the Great Goblin, she felt even more for herself.

 

***

 

Thorin put up a fight for the sake of putting up a fight. He knew in advance it would be no use. There were far too many goblins here. He could never win. Yet it went against everything he had been taught to go with them willingly. For all he knew this Great Goblin was about to order their execution and he could not just sit by and twiddle his thumbs while his fate was being decided. Giving his life for his people and the quest was something he could live with – he had even accepted the prospect – but to be sentenced to die by a goblin like he was some kind of common criminal, no, he was not ready to accept that.

But of course it was no use. He was grabbed by many filthy goblin hands and forced out of the cage, that now rather felt like a safe haven instead of a prison compared to the horrors he knew awaited them at the Great Goblin’s hands. For a moment he had the great satisfaction of kicking them away from him and he used that opportunity to slip back into the cage. It wasn’t much of a victory, but at least it kept morale from reaching an all-time low.

There was no love between the goblins and the dwarves – although Thorin thought it would be safe to say that there was no love between the goblins and any other race in Middle Earth you cared to mention – and there was even less so after the battle of Azanulbizar. True, the dwarves had suffered great losses that day, but they in turn had put a rather large dent in their enemies’ ranks as well and these foul creatures were unlikely to have forgotten that.

The other members of the company were not making it easy for their captors either. Thorin could see Dwalin knocking out a good few before they finally managed to keep him restrained. Kate – although still looking a bit cross-eyed from her encounter with the goblin’s club – actually managed to land a violent kick in a goblin’s private parts, making her “victim” squeal in pain and Thorin nod in appreciation. Ori, normally the least violent of the group, had taken the company advisor’s advice of putting his right hook to good use. They all fought tooth and nail, knowing they were unlikely to survive this encounter with the king of the goblins.

In the end of course they lost and it would be no use fighting any longer. The goblins came at them with whips and swords and Thorin ushered them all into the corner of the cave, fully prepared to make a last stand and die honourably instead of being led to slaughter like unsuspecting lambs.

There were goblins grouping around the cage, looking at the scene with what appeared to be joy. It was frightening to see, because they didn’t join their brethren to try and get the company out. It was as if they were really enjoying the show. They had whips in their hands as well, which they used to hit any dwarf within reach.

‘Ow!’ came a cry from somewhere behind Thorin. He looked over his shoulder and saw the advisor raise her hands to her face in a reflex. Some goblin’s whip had streamed her face, right from the chin over the mouth and nose onto her forehead. It had only just missed her eyes. It could definitely have been worse, but the fact that there was blood dripping from the wounds made Thorin’s blood practically boil with rage. Kate was one of them and a woman at that. How dare they treat her in such a low fashion? Didn’t they have any manners at all? Of course the answer to that question was no and Thorin knew it.

‘Get your hands off her!’ he growled, beckoning Balin and Dori to keep the advisor sandwiched between them, far from the goblins’ whips. He trusted Balin with his life and knew the elderly dwarf would do whatever it was that Thorin ordered him to do. And Dori would probably have protected Miss Andrews anyway. He doubted she was aware of the fact that to Dori and his brothers she had become something of an honorary sister, but that was what she was now. And Dori was fussy by nature, especially when it came to people he regarded as family. He would not let any harm come to the advisor as long as he lived and breathed.

This order was met by a maniacal cackling that made a cold shiver go down Thorin’s spine. He suddenly got that uncomfortable feeling that he had only managed to make things ten times worse than they already were. He realised just a second too late that he had pointed out the weakest member of the company to them, the one they would all protect because of that weakness and with that he had also revealed a weakness in his company.

‘ _Shit_!’ he muttered under his breath, conveniently ignoring the fact that that actually was Kate’s favourite reaction to such a situation. ‘Close ranks!’

But it was of course no use. There were still too many of the creatures and it was really too easy for them to go and grab the disarmed dwarves. Nevertheless Thorin kept resisting even as they forced him out of the cage and out of the cave. The next part of the journey took them over more weak bridges and narrow ledges and the dwarf king half considered trying to push some goblins to their death, but he was being held so tightly that he could only move his legs and only in the direction they wanted him to go.

And there were goblins everywhere. They were either looking down or looking up from other bridges and ledges, laughing, shouting insult. But the worst thing was that they had seen Kate. Now Thorin knew that none of them was bound to have an easy time here and they were very unlikely to make it out alive unless Gandalf appeared right here and now and magically took out the entire population of this cursed town, but Kate was a woman and they could do far worse to her. As the leader of this company he had a responsibility to prevent that kind of thing from happening and right now, there was just nothing he could do.

And she was scared. He only had to look over his shoulder to establish that. The company advisor was only a metre behind him, grabbed by goblins and forced forwards, but their hands were not only on her arms, he saw. And Kate was terrified, her eyes wide, face pale, visibly trembling as the goblins gave her a detailed report of what they would do to her when given the chance.

Thorin tried to send her a message with his eyes, trying to tell her that he would do everything in his power to get them all out before the goblins had the chance to make good on their threats. He was not going to sit back and watch as his company was tortured by goblins and he was desperately looking for an escape route.

He found none and when they were forced onto a platform he knew that all chances had gone. There was a throne situated at the end of it and on that throne sat the biggest, ugliest goblin Thorin had ever laid eyes on. And there was no way out of this place. The goblins were everywhere and the only exit was the way they had come. It was hopeless.

The goblins forced them all to stand together and formed a living wall around them. At least this allowed Thorin to slip back and whisper some commands. ‘Balin, Dori, watch after Miss Andrews,’ he ordered. ‘Whatever happens, you do not let any harm come to her.’

Dori caught on immediately. That dwarf was fiercely loyal and Kate had won his loyalty by saving Dori’s brother. Ten to one Dori really looked upon the advisor as if she was a younger sister and if the goblins as much as whispered Kate’s name and the word rape in one breath, they would have another thing coming. The only reply consisted of a curt nod, but he didn’t need more.

Balin too nodded. ‘We’ll take care of her, laddie.’ It was all the reassurance he could give at the moment and Thorin knew that. In this blasted place no one could expect to come out unscathed, but at least he had done all he could.

He touched Kate’s arm, favouring her with a stern look. ‘Do not let them see your fear,’ he commanded. ‘They want you to fear them. Do not give them the satisfaction.’

He had chosen the right words, it would seem. Miss Andrews had never been one to do as people expected of her and the very mention of her doing as the goblins wanted her to do caused a tiny spark of defiance to light up in her eyes. ‘Then I’ll bloody well have to come up with something better than that,’ she hissed. It was probably more bravado than anything else, but Thorin was glad of that much. ‘How about a plan to get out of this hellhole?’

‘You’ve got a plan?’

‘Hoping that Gandalf gets here within the next couple of minutes?’ she offered with an apologetic smile.

He was severely tempted to moan in exasperation. ‘ _That_ ’s what’s in your book?’

Miss Andrews at least appeared to be slightly irritated now. ‘Well, if you’ve got a better idea, please share!’ she whispered furiously.

But Thorin had no such plan and he did not have time to think of one either, because the Great Goblin had just jumped off his throne and onto the platform. The entire thing shook with the force of it. ‘Who would be so bold as to come armed to my kingdom?’ he growled, leaning closer to the group. He cast a fleeting glance at the pile of luggage, including the swords and axes, that the goblins had been dragging with them to present to their king. ‘Spies? Thieves? Assassins?’

‘Oh, believe me, I’d love to assassinate him,’ Kate muttered under her breath, so softly only Thorin, Kíli and Dori, the dwarves closest to her, could hear it. ‘If only not to hear that horrible voice of his again.’

Thorin almost cracked a smile there and then. This was still bravado, but it was also a way of dealing with this. He had no idea when he had come to regard humour and sarcasm as armour, a way of protecting oneself, but it appeared to be working and not only for Kate.

As it was, none of the company were expected to answer the question. The commander took care of that. ‘Dwarves, your malevolence.’

‘Dwarves?’ the Great Goblin echoed.

‘We found them at the emergency exit,’ the commander reported.

‘And what are they doing here, I wonder?’ The question was all but bellowed out. ‘Up to no good, I’ll warrant! Spying on the private business of my people, I guess! Thieves, I shouldn’t be surprised to learn! Murderers and friends of elves, not unlikely! Now, tell me, what are you doing in these parts?’

This was looking bad, very bad indeed. The Great Goblin may have been asking the question, but it very much sounded as if he had already come to his own conclusions. Nothing would change his mind on this matter and while Thorin would really want to nothing more than to reply with a silent defiance, he wasn’t just thinking about his own wellbeing here. He had an entire company that relied on him. And so he swallowed his pride and stepped forward. ‘Thorin, at your service,’ he told the Great Goblin, even if his tone probably belied his words. ‘We have not come to your kingdom to do any of those things you accuse us of. We merely took shelter from a storm in a cave that appeared to be unused and empty. Nothing was further from our minds than inconveniencing goblins in any way.’ _And we were not planning on inconveniencing ourselves in such a way either_.

He hated to sound so submissive. Thorin knew he was too proud for his own good from time to time, and to humiliate himself this much in front of goblins, that was almost too much. But if there was a chance, no matter how small, that Gandalf was out there looking for them, it was his duty to buy them as much time as he possibly could. It had worked before with the trolls.

But he was afraid that his little speech had quite the wrong effect. Even when Thorin had carefully edited out every part of his name that might give away his real identity – because Thorin wasn’t such an unusual name for a dwarf – a flash of recognition had still crossed the Great Goblin’s ugly face when he heard it. ‘Well, well, well, look who it is.’ There was an altogether unpleasant – Kate would call it creepy – smile on his face. ‘Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King under the Mountain!’ He made a very low, mocking bow to go with it, making Thorin want to forget all about his decision not to fly off the handle and just make this ugly goblin pay in kind for his insult. ‘Oh, but I am forgetting: you don’t have a Mountain and you’re not a king, which makes you… nobody really.’

Thorin’s blood was quickly reaching boiling point and only a hand on his arm stopped him from losing it completely. ‘Do not give him the satisfaction,’ a soft voice reminded him.

The dwarf king had no idea when Miss Andrews had come closer and he knew it was stupid of her to have done so in the first place, but her presence was a gift from Mahal right now. Normally he hated it when someone – Balin most of the time – threw his own advice back into his face, but in this case he found it to be actually working.

Unfortunately the Great Goblin had not missed out on that quick and hushed conversation. ‘And who is this?’ He leaned forward towards Kate and the advisor automatically backed away in fear. Only Thorin’s grip on her arm stopped her from going too far. ‘You are not a dwarf, are you?’

‘I’m Catherine, daughter of John, at your service,’ she replied. There was a slight tremor in her voice and her nails were digging into the skin of Thorin’s hand, but she remained in place and looked the Great Goblin in the eyes.

Thorin studied the king of the goblins and saw the change in his expression. A triumphant smile appeared on his face, causing the cold shivers to return. This was bad, very bad. ‘How… unusual,’ the Great Goblin remarked. ‘How very unusual.’

For Durin’s sake, that halfwit could not be thinking what Thorin thought he was thinking, could he? But when he was really honest with himself, he had to admit that their whispering and holding hands had led far more intelligent creatures to see something that wasn’t there. But back in Rivendell it had been the key to keeping Miss Andrews with them. Here her association with him could only make things worse.

‘Who would have believed?’ the Great Goblin exclaimed. ‘Who would have believed that the great Thorin Oakenshield would take a human girl for a wife?’ He lowered his voice a little. ‘I know someone who would pay me handsomely for that kind of information. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head and possibly hers as well. Just the head, though, nothing attached.’

Kate was clearly scared now. All her bravado had melted away. And for all Thorin had ever said about her, she was by no means stupid. She knew where this conversation was heading. She knew what that in this place it would be no good to be associated with him. But she had yet to let go of his hand. But then, she might simply be too scared now to dare let go of him. And the harm was already done. Whoever it was that was on their trail would probably be informed of her existence soon and that would make her as desired a target as Thorin himself.

The Great Goblin had done a few steps back, studying the supposed couple with interest. ‘Perhaps you already know of whom I speak.’ He was practically smirking at them and Thorin could feel his muscles tense in anticipation. ‘An old enemy of yours. Of course your pretty little wife wasn’t even born then. It would be unfair to include her in your feud. Does she even know what kind of dwarf she married?’

That sparked Kate’s anger apparently. ‘To one who has more honour and courage than there is to be found in this stinking bloody town of yours,’ she snapped. It was again just a mask and she was still frightened, if her trying to squeeze Thorin’s hand into jelly was any indication at all. ‘And you can tell Azog the Defiler to do his defiling somewhere else. Quite frankly it’s a bit childish to still not be over the loss of his bloody hand.’

She could not be serious, could she? Azog had been slain in the battle of Azanulbizar. Thorin had wielded the blade that had injured the Pale Orc mortally himself. No one recovered from such injuries.

But the reaction of the Great Goblin belied that reasoning. His face split into the most frightening grin Thorin had ever seen in his life, and he had seen a good few over the years. ‘So you think it is as simple as that, do you, Catherine, daughter of John?’

Thorin knew that it wasn’t. The Great Goblin’s reaction to Kate’s words at least told Thorin something he had not wanted to know. On the other hand a lot of things started to make sense now. As much as he disliked the idea he knew that this would explain why they were being hunted now. The feud he had believed had died with Azog was still very much alive, endangering not only his own life, but also the lives of all those close to him.

‘I am sure you think it isn’t,’ Kate countered seemingly effortlessly. There was an angry fire now blazing in her eyes. Thorin knew that look, having been on the receiving end of it for more times than he cared to remember. But this too was as much a piece of armour as the humour had been. It was a way of protecting herself, he had come to learn: lashing out at people in order to prevent them from getting the chance to hurt her. ‘But that would be because you’re simply too stupid to see the truth.’

That had the king of the goblins stare at her as if she had grown a second head. There was complete and utter silence in the cave and even Thorin caught himself holding his breath. Kate’s anger had made her reckless and in her anger she had said something that could have blown every chance they still had of getting out alive.

The silence was only broken by one of the goblins that had been going through their luggage. They were examining the weapons now and one of them had chanced upon Thorin’s blade. He screeched and threw the sword onto the ground as if he had literally burned his fingers on it.

The Great Goblin took one look at it and then staggered back as well. ‘I know that sword!’ he howled. ‘It is the Goblin-cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks! Murderers and elf-friends! Slash them! Beat them! Bite them! Gnash them! Let them never see the light again! Kill them! Kill them all!’

The goblins were far too eager to obey that order. They came at the company with swords and whips again and the dwarf king was all too soon knocked off his feet, taking Kate with him in his fall. The shock had finally made her let go of him, but it was of no use. His struggles meant nothing to his attackers. He fought, but the weight of so many goblins sitting on him pressed him down, making it impossible for him to move, almost impossible to even breathe.

So when one of the goblins somehow produced a dirty dagger and held it right above Thorin’s throat, he knew he was going to die. Strangely enough he did not feel scared. He had come to the conclusion that he had never really been afraid of death. What he felt now was regret, for his company and for his people. And there was rage there too, fury pulsing through his veins as he realised that he was powerless, that there was nothing he could do to stop this horror from happening.

And that was the moment that all the lights went suddenly out.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s note: _I, Catherine Sarah Andrews, do hereby solemnly swear never ever to enrage a goblin king again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading again. I know it is unlikely for the goblins to have an emergency exit, but basically I just had this idea of there being multiple doors and this was just one of them. And then I had this amusing mental picture of a health and safety inspector coming to inspect Goblin-town. Well, there you have it.  
> Anyway, I hope I did a good job on this one. Writing action is definitely not my forte, so hopefully I didn’t mess it up too much.   
> Comments would be appreciated.


	20. Darkness

**Chapter 20**

**Darkness**

 

_I’m not even sure I knew what was happening when it suddenly turned dark in the huge cave that I assumed to be the goblin equivalent of a throne room. I knew both movie and book pretty well, but the situation had been far too chaotic and frightening for me to carry out some sodding analysis of our current situation. And, as I had learned some time before our little trip into Goblin-town, reality was quite a different thing than watching a movie or reading a book with a nice cup of tea in your hand and our adventures in the goblin’s realm only served to prove that to me once again._

_For a time it actually bothered me when I heard people tell the stories about the events in Goblin-town and made it sound like it was the most amazing thing in the world, even when they really had no idea what it was that they were actually talking about. At first I would call them out on it, but then everyone started doing it and there was just no stopping it anymore._

_Eventually their insistence to call the whole goblin ordeal at least slightly funny started to win even me over. And true, the Great Goblin was more or less a ridiculous person. His weird excuse for a chin was just one of the many strange, disturbing things about him. His fear of Orcrist and his manners were just other fine examples. So by the time you were old enough to be told the stories, I tended to picture it as this crazy adventure that we, naturally, had come out of alive and unscathed._

_Well, I may not have not been entirely truthful about the unscathed part of the tale and believe me, when we were there, about to be finished off by a bunch of mentally deranged creatures who should never have been allowed anywhere near the weapons in the first place, I was certainly in no mood to call it funny…_

 

For a moment Thorin was frozen in place as the entire cave suddenly went dark. He gave up on his resistance, just shocked into lying there as events unfolded. There was no logical explanation as to why all the torches in this massive cave would go out all at once. Not even a strong gust of wind could have been responsible for that. Such a thing could only be done by… magic.

As the explanation for this situation presented itself to him, really all he could feel for just a split second was relief. Mr Baggins must be a little less useless than Thorin had believed. He must have found the wizard somewhere. Not that this explained where Gandalf had gone to in the first place, but there would hopefully be time to discuss that later.

Right now there was still a goblin sitting on his chest and the dwarf king was quite convinced that as soon as he regained his wits – as far as he had them – he would still try and sever Thorin’s head from his shoulders. As he actually liked his head attached to the rest of his body, he knew he had to act right away. The other goblins had somewhat loosened their tight grips as well and Thorin jumped at the opportunity, rolling away from them as fast and forcefully as he could. That threw off his attackers.

‘Ow!’ A muffled cry stopped him from rolling any further.

‘Kate?’ He thought he recognised the voice as that of the advisor. Only a second too late he realised he had called her by her first name instead of her last name, as he had promised himself he’d do.

‘Nice to see you to,’ came the grumpy reply. ‘Now get off me! All this fumbling in the dark is getting rather awkward here and I think I’m suffocating under your weight.’

It was only now that he realised he had not just rolled against her, but onto her and that they were indeed in somewhat of a compromising situation. For a moment he was tempted to shot back some sarcastic reply, but they were still in a rather dangerous situation and this was really not the time.

He did as she asked, but held her hand tightly in his. ‘Whatever happens, you do not let go,’ he told her. It would be hard enough to find the rest of his company in this cursed darkness without Miss Andrews getting lost as well. He was a dwarf, used to living underground and his eyesight was usually good in these dark places. But even dwarves needed a little light, no matter how little, to go on and there was none of it in here. He was practically blind and that scared and frustrated him more than he was ready to admit to anyone, even to himself.

Thorin had hardly finished that thought when he noticed something that looked like blue glowing smoke above their heads, bathing the platform in an eerie light. Normally this would have him drawing his sword, ready to attack the source of the magic, but not today. He had been witness to Gandalf’s fireworks, both magical and non-magical, several times in the past and this was definitely his work.

‘On your feet!’ he hissed at Miss Andrews. ‘Be ready to run.’

In the faint light he could make out her curt nod. Her fingers were once again holding his hand in a death grip and her eyes were still wide with fear. And frightened Kate was either more snappy than usual, or far more subdued than normally was the case. It would appear it was the latter today.

He pulled her to her feet and then quickly glanced around him to look for the rest of the company. Most of them had already fought off their own attackers and were now making a run for the tall figure that suddenly had materialised next to the pile of luggage. There was no mistaking that pointy hat, not even with so little light available to them, nor was it difficult to  guess who the much smaller person next to him was. Gandalf and the burglar had made it.

It was only when he started pulling Kate with him in the right direction that all hell really broke loose, or that was how the company advisor would phrase it. So far the goblins had been wonderfully confused about what had just happened. They had voiced their surprise and displeasure right away in angry shrieks and furious howling, but they had been too shocked to really do something. Or maybe they had just been too scared. Thorin knew that the goblins feared magic more than anything else and if the dwarf had been able to put two and two together, they surely must have too, because, contrary to popular belief, goblins were anything but stupid.

But now the furious howls turned to howls of pain and agony as Gandalf’s magical smoke started to shoot sparks at them, that somehow never seemed to get anywhere near Thorin’s company. Thorin had no idea what exactly it was that the wizard had sent at the goblins, but it must be something altogether nasty. The sparks made a burning and hissing noise when coming into contact with the foul creatures and the smell of burned flesh invaded Thorin’s nose. The burning sparks had the goblins howling and rolling on the floor like the crazy creatures some people believed them to be.

‘Gandalf,’ he acknowledged the wizard.

He just inclined his head. ‘It seems I have come just in the nick of time again.’ There was an amused tone to his voice. ‘Hurry, we must get out of here.’

 _We would never have been here had you not done a disappearing act right in the middle of the fight_ , Thorin thought venomously, but he would readily admit that this was not the time to discuss this matter. But he would remember it and when they did have the time, he would demand to know what exactly had been going on.

‘Move out,’ he ordered his company. ‘Dori, take care of Miss Andrews.’ He was not really happy with that arrangement, but Dori at least would do what it took to keep her out of trouble as much as that was possible in these circumstances. Thorin was the leader of this company and he could not be acting like a glorified babysitter all the time, not that his sister hadn’t tried to make him into one from time to time.

The other dwarf gave a solemn nod. ‘No harm will come to her. You have my word.’

Kate muttered something along the lines of how she was not some package to be passed around at everyone’s convenience and how she was actually capable of walking on her own, but both men made a point of ignoring her muttered protests.

‘Good,’ Thorin said. It would seem they were all there, but there was not much time to do a real head count, as much as he really wanted to, because he would not like to leave anyone behind in this hellhole, as Kate had called it. Come to think of it, that about summed it up to perfection.

But there was no time. Because of course this had to be made just a bit more complicated than it already was. The magical sparks had failed to hit the Great Goblin – which Thorin considered an achievement in and out of itself – and he was now coming at the unarmed company with more speed than the dwarf king would have believed him capable of. And Kate was right in his path.

He didn’t think. There was no time to. He just reached out to her, his hands finding her waist. And for once he was glad that she was so small and fragile. It hardly took him any strength at all to yank her out of the way. In fact, he underestimated how easy it was going to be, resulting in Kate landing in his arms and against his chest, his own force almost knocking the pair of them to the ground.

‘Do that again and I’ll swear you’re seriously going to regret that,’ came Kate’s furious hiss as their bodies collided.

Thorin ignored her. Practise made perfect and he found he had become quite good at it over time. He shoved her back in Dori’s hands, glaring at the other for not looking after her better, while Gandalf made short work of the Great Goblin, slicing both neck and belly with his great elven sword, that seemed to shine of its own volition. There was something disturbing about that. Swords weren’t meant to glow, not like that.

‘Move!’ Gandalf yelled at them. ‘Follow me, quickly!’

For once Thorin didn’t mind being bossed about by the wizard. It was all too clear that Gandalf knew the way out and Thorin most certainly did not. He saw some of his companions quickly grasp their weapons and some of the bags before they followed the wizard. Miss Andrews was one of them. She made a beeline for her rucksack and sword, grabbing both before getting dragged away by Dori, who would probably rather die than lose her out of his sight again and risk his king’s wrath.

Thorin himself gathered his sword and axe again as well. He would not run through these mountains unarmed if he could help it. He all too clearly remembered that overwhelming feeling of being helpless, incapable of doing anything to help his men get out of this situation alive. The next time the goblins came at them, he would have a sword in hand to protect them.

The goblins were still writhing on the ground in pain as he collected his weapons. Gandalf’s sparks must be more dangerous than the dwarf had thought if the effects indeed lasted so long. But they would surely not last for too much longer and it was time to leave.

He took one bag with him, knowing it was filled with food. Leaving behind valuable supplies would be foolish indeed, especially since they had no idea how long it would take for them to leave these cursed mountains and find a place to restock their supplies. 

Thorin was already turning to leave when something else caught his eye. There, abandoned on the ground, was the book that Thorin feared so much. It must have been thrown onto the ground by the goblins when they searched their luggage, deemed unworthy of any further attention.

He would not deny that he was greatly tempted to leave this dreaded book where he found it. He could leave it here, never having to deal with it again. But then, was that really his choice to make? It was her book, not his. Who was he to decide what happened to her belongings, the belongings she so obviously treasured beyond anything? She had gone straight for them as soon as she had gotten the chance. They meant something to her, just as much as his key and map meant to him.

‘Bugger that woman,’ he muttered under his breath as he tucked the book behind his belt. It wasn’t that heavy. Come to think of it, it was rather small, too small really to be so important. And yet if Gandalf and Miss Andrews were to be believed all their fates rested on it.

He told himself that it was far riskier to leave it than to take it with him while he ran after his companions, fighting goblins as he went. Not that there was much resistance. The vast majority of the goblins was still writhing on the ground in agony and those that were not hurt by the magical sparks were blinded a heavy smoke that obscured the dwarves from view.

But they could not reasonably leave the book behind, Thorin told himself as he kicked a goblin off the ledge over which he was running. Someone was bound to find the book and as soon as they realised what was in it, there was every chance of them giving it to Thorin’s sworn enemy. They would know exactly where to look for the company if that happened. It would spoil every chance of successfully completing this quest.

Gandalf seemed to know what he was doing as he led them straight back into the tunnels again. Thorin’s sense of direction told them they were not heading back towards the emergency exit. Instead Gandalf opted on leading them deeper into the mountains, going down all the way. The tunnels were dark and they had only the faint light of Gandalf’s staff to go on.

Fortunately this place was blessedly free of the presence of goblins, although the stench of this place told Thorin that this too belonged to their realm and as soon as the confusion had been cleared up along with the smoke and the torches would be relit, the goblins would find out that their king had been killed. He did not doubt that the goblins would not take that well. And as soon as they found their dead king’s body, they would go after their escaped prisoners in great numbers. Now that was a prospect that Thorin did not find himself looking forward to at all.

Time lost all meaning and in hindsight he would never be able to tell for how long they ran in this manner. There was no sound save for their breathing and their footsteps on the ground. Thorin found himself constantly listening for signs of goblins in pursuit, but behind them it remained silent. Not that this reassured him in any way. It was too silent. Somehow that never seemed to bode well either.

They finally came to a halt in a small cave, to Thorin’s displeasure. He went straight to the wizard. ‘We should press on,’ he hissed urgently.

‘We should once we have checked over the wounded,’ the wizard replied in his own calm manner. He beckoned at the company, making Thorin realise that at least five members of it had sustained injuries that were bad enough to be bleeding. Miss Andrews was of course among them, with that wound the whip had caused. Bombur seemed to have been hit by one as well. Balin and Dori were sporting bleeding injuries on arms and shoulders and Bofur was limping, bleeding from a rather serious looking wound on his right leg.

Thorin didn’t like it at all, but he had to agree that these injuries needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Dwarves were as tough as the mountains under which they built their kingdoms, but not even they were immune to wound infection and the goblins’ weapons were hardly clean.

He gave a reluctant nod and beckoned Óin to see to it. ‘Make haste,’ he ordered. ‘We must leave before the goblins will follow us here.’

And follow they would, Thorin had no doubt about that. One of them had killed their king and that was a crime they could not let go unanswered. He knew how to tend to injuries and so he marched over to Balin, who was trying to get a look at the wound in his shoulder, but was unsuccessful in those attempts, because his beard kept getting in the way.

‘Let me,’ Thorin offered. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he remembered how often it had been the other way around. Thorin had been reckless when he was younger and had more than once gotten himself hurt because of it, especially in those first few years of exile. His father and grandfather had always been too busy with other things and so it had been Balin who had watched out for him. Even for a dwarf his loyalty was remarkable and Thorin felt himself more than willing to repay the favour. Not out of duty, but out of friendship.

‘Thank you, laddie.’ The elderly dwarf smiled at him. ‘This old warrior seems incapable of getting his head turned in the right direction.’

‘Or keeping his beard out of the way,’ Thorin teased mildly. There were certain advantages to keeping his beard as short as he had it, apart from the meaning it held to him. ‘What hit you?’

‘Tip of a goblin blade,’ Balin replied as Thorin removed the cloth from over the wound. ‘I couldn’t get out of the way quick enough. It’s but a scratch.’

It was a whole lot more than a scratch. It didn’t take an expert to see that. For once he was glad that it was almost dark here, because he was not sure he wanted his old friend to see the expression on his face. Thorin remembered thinking that Balin was too old for this, back in Rivendell when he had been about to give up on the quest and turn back to the Ered Luin. Some parts of that reasoning were still true. What he saw now was only a taste of the horrors that might still lie before them still.

‘Óin will need to look at it,’ Thorin told him sternly.

Balin’s patient smile told him that they did not have the time for that. ‘If you can just clean the wound, then the rest can wait.’

‘Balin…’ he tried to protest.

‘This quest is more important than the life of one old dwarf, laddie,’ his friend said. ‘You cannot delay here for just my sake.’

But that was not the kind of dwarf or king Thorin wanted to be. ‘I will not leave a single member of this company behind to suffer at the hands of goblins,’ he replied curtly. ‘And that is not up for discussion, Balin,’ he added when he saw that he was about to voice his protests. ‘You chose to follow me and I swear by Mahal that I will do everything within my power to protect each and every member of this company.’ It might not be the wisest thing to do, any army commander would tell him that. They would tell him that it would be foolish to risk an entire group of people for the sake of one elderly man. But Thorin was not that kind of a leader. He had seen enough death in his lifetime, lost more family and friends than most people would ever have to deal with. He would not add another name to that list, not if he could help it.

‘Óin, get here,’ he barked at the company’s half deaf healer. He was cleaning the cut on Miss Andrews’s face. ‘Balin needs help.’

For a moment Thorin feared he would need to repeat his order – quite possibly five times over – but then the understanding dawned on his face. ‘I will in some minutes. I need to finish this.’

Thorin could only just prevent his teeth from gritting in anger. ‘Now, Óin,’ he snarled. ‘I can deal with Miss Andrews.’

The person in question didn’t look like she was too pleased with that arrangement and the feeling was mutual. But the rest of the company was already busy. Normally the dwarf king would have commanded Dori to treat her wound, but the dwarf was too preoccupied tending to his own injuries.

Óin, being the healer that he was, was visibly very much opposed to leaving a patient in the middle of a treatment, but between Thorin’s best commander look and voice and Kate’s gentle ‘Go on, I’ll be fine’ he did not have much of a choice and so he nodded and got up.

Thorin braced himself and took his place.

 

***

 

Kate was not sure she was completely at ease with Thorin cleaning the wound on her face, but she was hardly in a position to complain. That injury needed to be seen to and she could not do it herself, since she could not see what she was doing. Nevertheless Thorin’s tone just now had suggested that he would rather have her for lunch than tend to her injury.

Óin had told her that the wound wasn’t deep, but he had also informed her that some filth had gotten into the wound. The goblins’ whips were not exactly clean, so Kate had no trouble whatsoever taking the all but deaf healer’s word for it. She had seen their tormentors pick the bloody things up from a very dirty floor. No, hygiene was very obviously not very high on their list of priorities, but that wasn’t really much of a surprise.

But all in all she wasn’t too worried for herself. The cut hurt like someone was holding a hot flame against it, but she knew it felt worse than it really was. She just needed to make sure it was clean and then it would heal over time.

Well, it would heal, but it was likely to scar. Kate grimaced to herself. She had no idea how on earth she was going to explain that one once she was back home. The cut was positioned right across her face, from the far left side of her chin, over her mouth and nose to the far right end of her forehead. She was very lucky that that blasted whip had missed her eyes, or things could have looked far worse.

It was however impossible to hide this injury. And if Óin was right and this would indeed scar, then she would need to invent some kind of explanation for her family. She had a feeling that the tried and tested excuse of _I tripped and fell_ would not do the trick in this case.

 _You’re being ridiculous_ , she thought. _From all the things you could possibly be worrying about!_

That was probably common sense rearing its ugly head. It had been rather quiet during the whole goblin ordeal, but Kate had not been really looking for it either. She had been too busy panicking. Looking back on it now she was none too proud of her actions there. She had shielded herself in humour and anger, but it was escapism all the same and she felt ashamed of herself. The others had been able to face it with a calm Kate could only be jealous of. She had freaked out and now it felt like an unforgivable sin, especially when she remembered that she out of all people had _known_ that they would all make it out alive again.

She was sure that everyone knew it and that they thought lesser of her for it. Thorin’s dismissive scowl seemed to support that theory. Gandalf’s staff may not give them much light to see by, but she had not missed out on the gentle expression on the dwarf king’s face when he had tended to Balin and the angry and impatient glare he had directed her way.

That expression had not changed when he took Óin’s place and began to clean the wound without saying a word, a guarded, almost absent look in his eyes. Kate had come to learn that this blank face was like a mask, his mental piece of armour, that he hid behind whenever he wanted to think. It was like he had retreated deep into himself, to a place where no one could reach him. It made him difficult, almost impossible, to read, and his actions were so contradictory from time to time that it was hard to really understand him based on his actions alone.

His work was good though. He was surprisingly careful and thorough in his work. There was a certain routine to his movements, betraying that he had been doing this countless times before. Kate wasn’t really sure what she had expected. Maybe, somewhere deep down, she had expected him to be rough, to do it quickly in order to get away from her as soon as he could. He had been quick enough to hand her over to Dori when they had been busy escaping, even when he had told her not to let go off his hand only a minute previously. Yet he had also been protective of her when the goblins came at them with their bloody whips and he had been the same when they faced the Great Goblin. _Ugh, that man is a riddle wrapped up in a mystery._

‘I can do it myself, you know,’ she forced herself to say when the silence dragged on so long that she was starting to feel uncomfortable, even when she knew she couldn’t.

She immediately found herself on the receiving end of Thorin’s most disapproving stare. ‘No, you cannot. Be silent.’

He apparently didn’t trust her to obey that order – and with good reason – so he started cleaning her split lips. That was a really sensitive part of the cut and Kate had to fight hard to stop the tears from appearing in her eyes. The dwarves’ opinion of her was low enough as it was. She could not be seen crying, to be perceived as weaker than she already was.

She had been aware of the fact that she was not strong, not a master in wielding any kind of weapon, but this whole goblin affair had rubbed her nose into it, made her all too painfully aware of her failures and it was awful. She was a burden to this company. She had nothing to contribute in terms of fighting and her advice was more or less useless as well. Her knowledge had not prevented them from falling into goblin hands and they had still encountered the stone giants as well. What had even made her think it was well within her powers to change anything at all?

The silence returned. Some distance away from them the others were seeing to their own injuries, muttering and whispering softly. Sound carried far in these tunnels and caves and nobody was particularly keen to alert the goblins to their exact whereabouts.

But this silence was too uncomfortable, too awkward even. Kate was quite sure of the fact that the goblin king had presumed that she was married to Thorin. What was it that people saw in them that made them almost automatically jump to the conclusion that she was married to this grumpy dwarf king? The Great Goblin had called it unusual, so why assume it in the first place? Was it simply because she just so happened to be a woman?

The silence soon became too uncomfortable for her, so when Thorin moved away from her lips to clean the rest of the wound, she took the opportunity to talk. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered.

That was met by surprise. His hands stilled and he looked her in the eyes with a hint of confusion. ‘What would you be sorry for?’ he questioned.

 _Where to begin? The fact that I am here, that I am so useless, that I can’t seem to be changing anything at all…_ The list was near endless, especially when one looked at it from Thorin’s perspective. In the end however she settled for the last option. ‘That we could not avoid this ordeal,’ she replied. ‘I really thought I could do it.’

There was something altogether unnerving about that look in Thorin’s eyes. To her it felt as if he was looking right through her and she was not sure she was comfortable with that. ‘It was not your fault,’ he replied in the end, making Kate wonder just how much it cost him to say that. ‘And you were right about Azog. I should have listened to you.’

He could as well have told her that the goblins were their best friends. Kate could only stare at him, jaw dropped. In one breath Thorin Oakenshield, the man who had spent the last few months insisting she was lying, had admitted that she was right and that he himself had been at fault not listening to her. Quite frankly she had expected him to shout at her, to snap at her for not knowing about the emergency exit. This, this admitting that she was right caught her completely unaware and she had no idea how on earth she was supposed to react to it.

In the end she tried to joke it away. ‘You must have had too little sleep last night,’ she told him. ‘Or else I’m going deaf.’

His steady gaze told her that this was not something to joke about and it wasn’t. It was just her that was unable to handle this, this sudden faith in her and her knowledge. He was acting friendly towards her, out of all things to do. That was a novelty and she had no clue as to what to do with it. Shouting, she had not so long ago told him, that she could deal with. Shouting was familiar. They understood each other when they did that. But now Thorin started to act friendly and she felt like she was going into free fall. Why was he being so gentle now when he had been so snappy just minutes before?

Maybe it was just his crisis mode. They would work together until they were out of this wretched place again and they could continue fighting in peace. At least she hoped that was the case, because right now he made it so very bloody difficult for her to dislike him and if there was one thing she was certain she never wanted to do, then it was to start liking this grumpy dwarf. _Because this is not one of your sodding fanfictions. This is reality and in reality Thorin Oakenshield is as grumpy as he is royal._

 _And now you’re just sounding childish_ , she told herself a second later. People could change, especially in these life-threatening situations. Her determination to dislike the dwarf in front of her just because that was convenient was quite ridiculous and she knew it.

‘You heard me right,’ Thorin informed her while he continued to tend to the wound.

Kate would have nodded – since that didn’t require her to speak – but that was impossible since she had to hold her head still. She settled for a wry: ‘Believe me, I didn’t want to be right.’

Thorin nodded solemnly. ‘You will be a desired target of his now as well.’ He didn’t need to identify this person any further. She knew who he was talking about.

‘I figured,’ she muttered. And she had. She had realised the moment the Great Goblin had started his gloating about how Azog was going to pay him handsomely for the dwarf king’s head, and possibly hers as well. It would not take long for word to reach that Pale Orc and then she would be hunted too. ‘Doesn’t really matter, though, does it?’ She tried to shrug it away. ‘He was going to come after the company anyway and he didn’t strike me as the type to let me go while he finished the rest of us off. I was going to be a target anyway.’ It must be the exhaustion and the relief of getting away from the goblins why she could take it as calmly as she did. Had someone told her this piece of information twenty-four hours ago, she was fairly sure she would have freaked out.

‘I am afraid so.’ Thorin looked his work over and then leaned back when he was pleased with it. Kate thought both of them might be grateful for the distance between them.

She grimaced. ‘Why is Azog so hell-bent on getting to you anyway?’ That question had been tugging at the back of her mind for some time now and she supposed that since she would soon be promoted to the second place on Azog’s hit list because of her supposed marriage to the number one on that list, she had a justified reason to ask. ‘One version of the story mentioned that Azog had vowed to wipe out the line of Durin, but I never really found out why he took that vow in the first place.’

Thorin looked pensive, staring at a point somewhere behind her left ear and for a moment Kate assumed he was just going to ignore her again, pretending he had never heard her question since she had brought the book he so hated into the conversation.

So she was rather surprised when at long last he began to speak again. ‘It’s long story,’ he replied. ‘But it comes down to my grandfather Thrór slaying Azog’s father in a battle, before the dragon came to Erebor. Azog swore he would get his revenge on Thrór and his line.’ He smiled wryly. ‘In that case your story is wrong, Miss Andrews. It is not the entire line of Durin that he is after. He never went after Dáin.’

Kate could only answer that with a wry smile of her own. ‘It would appear that my story is wrong on more than one account, Mr Oakenshield.’ It frightened her to know that, but she had also come to the conclusion that she had long since accepted that this was just the way it was in Middle Earth. The realisation had first come after their encounter with the trolls. The book and movie were some sort of guidelines, she had learned. They gave you direction, but they did not spell out every detail. That was for her to find out herself. ‘I’m not even sure how much use I really am. Even when I am allowed to make use of my knowledge, it seems as if something or someone is working against me, preventing me from doing what I was brought here to do.’

She didn’t even know why she was sharing these concerns with Thorin Oakenshield of all people. This might have been a conversation she had with Balin, but never Thorin. And when she saw Thorin’s shocked face staring back at her, she remembered the reason why she would normally never discuss this with him. Because if she doubted her ability to change the future, she also doubted her ability to save his very life at the end of the journey. And that was bound not to make him do a happy dance around this cave.

‘Oh, shit!’ she said. ‘Thorin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’

His feelings were hidden behind the mask again. ‘Like what?’ he asked icily.

‘Like I’m not capable of saving lives with the knowledge of the book,’ she clarified. ‘I’ll really try, I promise.’

And she would. The moment she had accepted that Gandalf was not going to send her home, she had decided she might as well do her job. She had signed the contract after all and if she did what she was brought here to do, at least her presence here had some use. And this company had slowly wriggled its way into her heart. She would not be able to look at her face in the mirror if she did not do everything that she could to somehow create a happier ending. Because really, she wasn’t too fond of Thorin, but she could not just let him die either. And Kíli and Fíli had become friends of sorts. For them to die would just be horrible, a terrible waste.

Kate’s mind went over the rest of the group. Dwalin wasn’t exactly a friend, especially not after his harsh words back at the goblins’ front gate, but his brother was a good friend, a sort of grandfather figure with his advice and kind manners. Dori had all but adopted her into the family. He acted like an older brother and somehow it felt rather natural to treat him like one. Nori could be nice as well as long as he remembered to keep his hands to himself and away from her belongings, but Ori had become a good friend as well, almost like another sibling. The rest of the gang were just friends, Kate supposed, and she had become somewhat attached to them. Bugger these dwarves and their ways to wriggle their way into one’s heart! Somehow things had been far less complicated, so much easier, when she had just been thoroughly disliking them!

Thorin was about to say something, when Bofur’s ‘What’s that?’ drew their attention. The entire group turned as one, looking at the source of Bofur’s question. Every eye in the cave looked at Bilbo or, more precisely, the sword at his hip, that was glowing a bright blue.

‘Goblins!’ Thorin spat. The king was already on his feet, drawing Orcrist. ‘On your feet!’ he barked at the rest. ‘Close ranks!’

Kate was being dragged to the centre of the group, pressed in the middle with Ori and Bilbo. Her heart was beating too fast and she was sure the nausea she now experienced was purely fear-induced, but the fear mingled with a fierce determination this time. She could not, would not, go back to that horrible Goblin-town. And she actually loved to live. For the first time since she had been brought to Middle Earth, her fear was a driving force rather than a paralysing one. She would not die here, not in this dark and damp cave. She was going home again.

It was remarkable what a little bit of determination could do. Kate felt her breathing slow down and she grasped her sword a little tighter. She was not a sword master and would probably never become one either, but surely all Dwalin’s lessons must have had some use, she supposed, and otherwise she could always fall back on the tried and tested way of sticking them with the pointy end.

She had hardly finished that thought when the goblins came barging in. Kate was right in the middle of the group and therefore unable to do something useful and somehow it made it all the more frightening. All she could see were the goblins, still as ugly as they were before, bearing down on them, shrieking and even laughing as they went.

And then the fight began. It was chaotic, bloody and altogether noisy. Screams and shrieks were echoed against the rocks, sending every noise back at them at least three times. Gandalf’s staff was still the only source of light in the cave, for the goblins had apparently not deemed it necessary to take any sort of light with them. The eerie light from the staff made it all seem like something right out of some horror movie and for a moment she was in danger of freezing into place again.

 _No, you’re not!_ Kate forcefully told herself. _You’re going to survive. You’re going to get out of these bloody mountains and you’re going to get home!_

The ranks broke when Dwalin was forced to jump out of the way of an oncoming orc whose life ambition it seemed to be to cut the warrior in half. Kate now found herself right in the very middle of a battle she did most certainly not want to be in. But what she wanted was not the question now. Her sword seemed to be taking on a life of its own, as if it remembered Dwalin’s lessons even when its owner did not. That was the only kind of explanation that made any sense to her at all, because she was sure she did not remember a thing at all.

Time lost all meaning. There was only the noise of shrieking goblins, steel on steel and her own frantic heartbeat that she was sure was so loud that it would be audible on the other side of the mountains. She knew she had killed goblins, possibly more than one, but it was so hard to tell. She just stabbed, sliced and dodged and could not for the life of her tell how many she had even hit.

By the time that there appeared to be not a single goblin left Kate was trembling, looking at her sword in disbelief. The blade was smeared with black blood, blood that she had spilled. The message landed home only then: she had killed. No matter how evil the goblins or how necessary the action had been, she, Kate Andrews, had ended the life of at least one, probably more than one though, living, thinking being. The thought instantly made her sick and she had to throw up where she stood.

It was only when she was done that she realised that someone had patiently kept her hair away from her face. She looked up to find the solemn face of her teacher staring back at her.

‘Is it always this bad?’ Kate asked softly, forcing herself not to look at the carnage they had created.

There was no judgement in Dwalin’s eyes now and for that the advisor was grateful. ‘It does not get easier, lassie,’ he replied, which was not exactly an answer to her question, but still told her everything she needed to know. ‘You’ll learn to bear it.’

She tried to swallow the bitter taste out of her mouth. ‘Will I?’ she muttered. She did not want to learn to bear it. She only wanted to be Kate Andrews, aspiring journalist, yet she already felt that she could never go back to being that person. That Kate was already gone, left behind at the emergency exit. That Kate had never needed to kill, had never needed to learn how to defend herself with violence. This new Kate had and she did not like it one bit.

Dwalin did not answer the question. ‘Go and get your bag, lass,’ he told her. ‘It’s time we moved out.’

Thorin was already gathering the others. No one seemed to have been injured too badly and whatever injuries had been sustained would need to wait until they were somewhere safe. Kate didn’t like that, but she knew it was necessary. And she wanted to get out of this place of death as soon as she possibly could, preferably before the goblins’ reinforcements would arrive. And so she picked up her rucksack and followed the others as they left. She did not once look back.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _We’re lost in the dark. I’m wondering if this has some double meaning for me as well._


	21. Backing Out

**Chapter 21**

**Backing Out**

_For as long as I could remember I had never been really afraid of the dark. Of course I had the oh-help-there’s-a-wolf-hiding-under-my-bed-as-soon-as-the-light-goes-out period as a child, but I eventually grew out of that. In fact, I seemed to sleep better in complete darkness than with a light on, or so we discovered soon enough._

_I’m afraid to say that after that trek through the dark under the Misty Mountains things never were quite the same. We were running through tunnels that were all long, all dark and all infested with the foul smell of the goblins. We only had the light of Gandalf’s staff to guide us and sometimes he needed to take away even that last light in order to prevent the goblins from finding out where we were._

_I’m quite sure I became quite paranoid over time. Every shadow was a goblin and every sound was a goblin sneaking up behind us to finish us off before we even had the chance to defend ourselves. I longed for the daylight and found myself wondering on more than one occasion how dwarves did it: living under the mountains, going without daylight for days on end. In that moment I was quite sure I would never be able to do that myself._

_Oh, and I can almost hear you laughing as you read this, thinking it to be quite absurd coming from the woman who can call herself Queen_ under _the Mountain. And I suppose it is absurd. But Erebor is so vastly different from the cold darkness of the goblin realm in the Misty Mountains and do not fear, I love the Mountain with all my heart, even though I still do have a love of the light of day as well, so you know where you got it from, my dearest Duria._

_But back then the darkness was mostly frightening and I just found myself wishing for a way out…_

 

Time didn’t seem to mean anything at all in these dark places. Even Thorin, being a dwarf, felt uncomfortable in these tunnels. The darkness weighed heavy on all of them and the threat of goblins didn’t make this any better. He was at the back of the column, protecting their rear while Gandalf took the front. The wizard seemed to know where he was going or he at least pretended to know. It made Thorin feel a bit more at ease, if only a bit.

No one had gotten seriously injured in the goblin attack and he had whispered a quick thanks to Mahal for that stroke of luck. It were mere scratches this time, but that didn’t stop him from worrying over the other injuries that had been sustained during their flight. Balin’s wound was slowing him down, even if the stubborn old dwarf would be the last one to admit it. He was forcing himself onwards, never showing his weakness. Bofur was all but hopping like a limp rabbit, as Kate had once so eloquently phrased it, and Dori’s bandage was turning rather red far too quickly for Thorin’s liking. Bombur had repeatedly been hit by the goblins’ whips, but seemed to be more or less all right. As long as they could keep the wounds clean, he would be all right, and the same was true for Miss Andrews.

Thorin could only just make out her shape as she ran beside Nori. She had surprised him in the fight. It was almost as if the Kate they knew had been replaced by someone else wielding that blade. Her skills were still worse than bad, but fortunately the goblins had all made the terrible mistake of thinking that a woman could not possibly know how to handle a sword and the rest of the group had watched out for the advisor, resulting in her coming out alive and pretty much unscathed, save for a scratch on her left arm. But as soon as they managed to make it out of these cursed mountains he would need to ask Dwalin to keep teaching her. If Azog was really on their trail – and he did not really doubt that anymore – then they would all need to learn how to defend themselves or they would be done for.

The long flight through the tunnels gave him more than enough time to think unfortunately and in the darkness he could feel the doubts creeping up at him, wriggling their way right into his heart and mind. Because if Azog was after them, then a good few things Kate had told him would be true as well. The dwarf found it all too easy now to remember the words she had spoken back in Rivendell, her theory that one of Thorin’s own kin had betrayed the quest to the orcs. And if that was the case, then Azog would find him wherever he went. How would he ever succeed in leading his company back to Erebor if he had all the orcs that Defiler could command on his heels? It would be a fool’s errand, even if they somehow managed to ever come out of this dreadful place again.

But turning back was still not much of an option. Balin would reason that they had come this far already. To go back now, after everything they had already seen, that would be admitting defeat, giving up before the battle had even begun. And that was not in a dwarf’s nature. And if Thorin had not been the leader of this company he would have fiercely protested against the very notion of abandoning the quest. In fact, he might have even the one to be telling the leader that he was a coward. But he was the leader now and he was responsible for these men. It was his responsibility to weigh the risks, to decide what was best for them. Unfortunately he knew they only obeyed him as long as he made no mention of giving up on their mission. Sometimes it had its downsides belonging to the most stubborn race of Middle Earth.

They rested in a small cave eventually. Thorin would have preferred to press on, but it had most likely been hours since they had properly rested. The short respite in the other cave did not really count, since no one had actually rested there. And only Mahal knew how few hours they had gotten before they were abducted from the cave they had taken shelter in. Even the dwarves in the company looked dead on their feet. And so he reluctantly agreed to stop for a few hours, as long as at least three people would stand watch. He would not want to be surprised again. There had been far too many of those on this journey already.

‘Are you sure that we lost them?’ he demanded of Gandalf.

The wizard, who was obviously not used to having his decisions and judgement questioned sent him a stern look by the light of his staff. ‘Quite sure, Thorin Oakenshield. And if you cannot take my word for it, then you are quite welcome to track back and see it for yourself!’ If smoking would not have given their location away to the goblins, Thorin was quite sure he would have taken to hide behind his beloved smokescreen again. As it was he just favoured the dwarf king with as stern a look as he could manage.

Thorin knew when to back off. This wasn’t worth it getting into an argument over. No doubt there would be a lot of arguing going on once they got out of here, Gandalf’s altogether mysterious disappearance at the emergency exit being at the very top of the list of things to discuss.

As it was, he just settled down on a rock near the exit of the cave and prepared for a few hours watch. The others were settling down now, grateful for the break. Gandalf and Nori were the other two watchers, but they were a good distance away. Anyway, Thorin was not in the mood to talk, not really.

It would, however, seem that Mr Baggins and Miss Andrews were not yet ready to go to sleep. The two had taken a spot near Thorin and were talking in low whispers that they probably thought were soft enough not to wake the others. But this was a cave under the mountains and sound carried far here. Thorin could follow their conversation with ease if he wanted to.

‘How did you do it?’ Kate wondered.

‘Do what?’ Mr Baggins asked, clearly not understanding what the advisor had meant by that question.

‘Sneak back out to find Gandalf,’ she clarified. ‘Can’t have been easy with all those goblins lurking around.’

‘I’ll have you know that it wasn’t.’ The hobbit sounded distinctly ruffled, but with the underlying tone of someone who is secretly proud of their achievement. He sounded rather like a child. In fact, he sounded very much like a younger Fíli when he had announced that had finally learned to braid his own hair and kept insisting that it wasn’t that difficult, even when he was clearly waiting for someone to tell him that it was very hard. Thorin had to bite back a guffaw at that memory.

‘So, how’d you do it?’ Kate urged.

‘I just walked back the way we came and that was not so hard. There weren’t any goblins there, not that I could see them anyway.’ The burglar sounded more and more like Fíli by the second. ‘But there were quite a lot of them near the emergency exit and they were all laughing and blocking the door, which by then, naturally, was closed again.’

Thorin could hear Kate snort. ‘I bet,’ she muttered. ‘Typical case of Murphy’s Law, if you ask me.’

Thorin had no idea what Murphy’s Law was. Fortunately for him, neither had the hobbit. ‘Murphy’s Law?’

‘Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong,’ she explained. ‘So far, that seems to sum this journey up to perfection,’ she added in a low growl.

Thorin could not help but agree with her on that one. No matter what he had done – and he had done very much. Mahal, he had even agreed to listen to Miss Andrews’s advice in order to make this quest succeed – somehow, somewhere along the road things eventually went completely pear-shaped and he could not come up with one good reason why. He had to put up with a wizard’s antics, a useless woman and an even more useless hobbit in his company and the annoyingly propriety of elves. He had been chased by wargs and orcs, abducted by goblins and almost tossed into a ravine by stone giants. All in all things had been pretty bad already and they were hardly halfway to the Lonely Mountain. And now it was being topped off by the fact that Azog the Defiler was apparently not as dead as he had believed him to be. That in itself was bad enough, but of course Azog could not just be satisfied with being alive, he had to keep up this bloody feud as well.

 _Now_ you _’re doing it too!_ he scolded himself half a second later. He had no idea when he had begun to copy both the advisor’s sarcasm and the strange words she used, but it was a rather alarming development, a clear sign that he had spent too much time in her company when he did not even like her.

‘Too true,’ the hobbit muttered darkly.

‘Well, tell me, how did you get out?’ Kate sounded a bit impatient now. Like Thorin, she must be suspecting that the hobbit was delaying on purpose, making her ask for the story rather than telling it immediately for the maximum effect.

‘Well, I could not just sneak past them and the door was firmly shot, so I had no choice but to wait until they either left or opened the door themselves,’ Bilbo told. ‘And they took awfully long and they were joking about how easy it was to catch us all. They had never even seen Gandalf it would seem, because they never mentioned him at all.’

‘So, if they were so busy mocking us whilst guarding that emergency exit of theirs, how did you get past them?’ Miss Andrews sounded a bit amused now, even if it was still laced with weariness. Thorin thought it a fair guess to say that she knew precisely what the hobbit was doing.

‘I was getting there,’ the burglar said, sounding a bit annoyed now that the advisor had interrupted his tale. ‘Eventually there was a large group coming back saying that they were ordered to bring back the ponies and luggage that was still in the cave, so they ordered the goblins that were guarding the door to open it for them. So they opened the door and went into the cave and I was very scared, because even though the door was open now, the cave was full of goblins and I had no idea how I would slip past them.’

‘I bet,’ Kate muttered. ‘This place is entirely too full of goblins for my taste. Or for anyone’s taste for that matter.’

Thorin could not help but agree with that assessment. Maybe, once, if the Mountain was retaken, someone should do something about this plague of goblins in the Misty Mountains. He had known that they lived in these parts himself too, but the numbers that had assembled in the throne room of the Great Goblin had driven the message home that there were far more of them than he had thought. And it was not a nice surprise.

‘In the end I told myself that I should be brave, because you were facing far worse down there,’ Bilbo went on after having muttered his own agreement. ‘So I kept to the walls and the shadows and sneaked back into the cave and I believe that they never as much as saw me. They were too preoccupied discussing what horrible things they would do to you once they got back.’

Thorin found himself surprised for the second time in a day and once again by someone he had previously deemed next to useless. He had never even believed that the burglar would even make it back to the emergency exit when Nori had first told him of the task he had given Mr Baggins. It had been the right thing to do – the only thing to do even – he had agreed, but he had thought it a fool’s errand, doomed to fail right from the start.

But maybe Gandalf had been in his right mind when he had selected the burglar after all. Because Bilbo had made it back to the cave past goblins and through dark tunnels. He had done what he had been tasked to do. Maybe, just maybe mind, it had not been such a bad idea to take him with them on this journey.

‘Well, as you see, there’s not too much harm done,’ Miss Andrews remarked with an enthusiasm that Thorin did not believe to be quite genuine. ‘We’re all still in once piece. Was Gandalf still in the cave?’

‘He was,’ Bilbo confirmed. ‘He had been hiding behind a large rock that was as grey as his robes and the goblins missed out on him altogether. I myself had nearly not seen him at all, had he not shown himself after the goblins had left.’

‘I still can’t think of one good reason why he left us behind in the first place,’ Kate growled. ‘He didn’t even help when we were fighting at all. Why would he do such a thing?’ There was frustration audible now and Thorin could understand that only too well. He experienced that himself too. Because it was strange behaviour on the wizard’s part. The dwarf had seen him use his magical fireworks often enough – he had used them in the very heart of Goblin-town even – but when they had been attacked Gandalf had done nothing. Instead of fighting he had hidden behind a rock!

A look over his shoulder allowed him to see Mr Baggins shrug. ‘I don’t know. But he’s Gandalf. He has a reason for everything he does, doesn’t he?’

‘I should bloody well hope so!’ Kate exclaimed. Realising she had spoken too loudly, she continued in a softer voice: ‘It would be nice though if he shared his motives with the rest of us from time to time, because so far I have not been able to make much sense of everything that has happened to us.’

Bilbo favoured her with a quizzical look. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, my presence here for starters,’ she began. ‘His determination to go to the elves for another.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘I just have this feeling that he knows far more than any of us and that for reasons far beyond my comprehension he chooses not to share that with the rest of this company. I don’t know why and it bothers me.’

Bilbo may not really understand what the advisor meant, but Thorin did. And he agreed. On the first day of the journey, he remembered, Kate had cornered the wizard and demanded answers of him. Of course she had been left almost empty-handed, but she – and Thorin, since he had been eavesdropping on them – had learned that day that the advisor was not the only one to possess the knowledge for which she had been brought here. Thorin had used that as a reason to send her back home in the next argument he had with the wizard, but of course Gandalf had hidden behind his smokescreen, saying that he was sure Miss Andrews had a lot more to offer than just her knowledge.

And true, the king had to admit that, after the initial reluctance, Miss Andrews had held up her end of the bargain. No, that was not what was bothering him now. It was Gandalf that was the problem here. Thorin was by now quite convinced that the wizard indeed knew every last detail of the story Kate knew, but he had never really acted on it. He had pretended not to know the message on the map and he had almost looked surprised when Kate and Thorin had gone to him to discuss taking another route over the mountains, as if he had not heard about the front gate at all, or its changed location. Sometimes he made it too easy for Thorin to forget all about his knowledge, which was just as extensive as Miss Andrews’s.

‘Well, he might have good reason to?’ Bilbo’s supposedly certain statement came out as a question nonetheless. The hobbit’s determination to rely on the wizard might be touching, but Thorin mostly thought them naïve.

‘Quite possibly,’ Miss Andrews agreed. ‘Doesn’t mean we have to like it though.’

‘Have you given any more thought to my offer?’ The halfling abruptly changed the subject. ‘To come with me to the Shire?’

Kate snorted. ‘In the past twenty-four hours I have been abducted, whipped across the face, caught up in a fight and to top it off I have been running through dark tunnels for hours at a time. I haven’t exactly had a lot of time to think. But even if I had, there’s not really to think about anyway. I’ve made my decision.’ She was silent for a while. ‘But it seems you’re still determined to leave when you can?’

The hobbit shrugged. ‘What good is me staying here?’ he asked, obviously meaning that as a rhetorical question.

‘Well, it seems you have already forgotten about the fact that you sneaked past a large group of goblins, but I have not,’ Kate pointed out. ‘You do make for a good burglar, Bilbo. And Thorin, well, he may be a bit rough around the edges, but I think he did not really mean what he said to you back on the plateau. We were all on edge, soaked and scared there. I don’t think any of us can be blamed for something we say in the heat of such a moment.’

Now that caused the dwarf to frown. Since when was the advisor in the habit of standing up for him? Or was this just her trying to keep Bilbo Baggins in this group, as her book would probably say? Sometimes one could read her face like it was a book open for everyone to see, but guessing her motives for acting as she did was another matter entirely. What was she thinking?

Fortunately Thorin wasn’t the only one to notice that change of heart. ‘The Great Goblin was right, wasn’t he? About you and him?’

Kate made a sound as if she was choking. ‘What? _No_! How on earth would you even reach such a… far-fetched conclusion?’

‘You’re wearing his coat,’ Bilbo countered.

That made Thorin swivel around in shock. And the halfling spoke the truth. Miss Andrews was still wrapped up in his coat he had given her some hours before they had been attacked. There had not been an opportunity for her to give it back yet and she must have forgotten about it as well. Or, not entirely forgotten, since she had put a belt around her waist to stop herself from drowning in the garment. But in the given circumstances clothing had been at the very bottom of either of their list of priorities. It was only now that they were having a moment to sit down that the implications of this started seeping through. And those implications might yet prove to be food for the gossip that had already started to go round in this company.

Kate didn’t seem to be thinking much of it. She arched an eyebrow. ‘It’s a coat,’ she pointed out. ‘Hardly a sign of affection.’

What kind of strange world did she come from? Thorin found himself seriously wondering about that. Of course he had wondered about where she came from – briefly, mind you – but he had always believed their worlds to be remotely similar.

‘Ehm…’ Mr Baggins seemed to disagree, if his facial expression was anything to go by.

There wasn’t much light to see by, but Thorin didn’t need that to recognise the murderous look that now was directed at the hobbit. ‘It was a matter of effectiveness,’ she told him sternly. ‘My coat was still soaking wet, his wasn’t. I might have caught a cold without it and that would have seriously delayed the quest. There is nothing more to it and you should not think there was. Quite frankly, the notion is ridiculous.’

And Thorin whole-heartedly agreed with that. He might even have gotten up and said that, had he not been stopped from doing so by the noise of footsteps coming down the tunnel. He was on his feet the next second. ‘Get up!’ he bellowed at his company, the volume no longer an issue now. ‘We’re under attack!’

 

***

 

Kate hardly had a second to think after Thorin’s warning before the first goblins entered the small cave. Hardly anyone was on their feet already, save for the people that had been ordered to stand guard. The fear threatened to grip her by the throat, but she squashed it. This was neither the time nor place for a panic attack. The only ones to benefit from that would be the goblins and she wasn’t in the habit of giving them what they wanted.

 _You can do this_ , she told herself as she picked up her sword. The images of the previous fight she had been in tried to find their way back to the forefront of her mind, but she squashed those too. _Not right now_.

It was frightening and chaotic all over again and really it made her want to run as fast as she could, but she had no idea where to run to and so she stood her ground, using her sword to keep the goblins away from her. She had no ideas what the others were doing and at the moment she could not really care. The moment she allowed herself to look for them would be the moment she got distracted and that just might cost her life. Now that was a prospect she didn’t find herself looking forward to.

In hindsight she would never be able to say how long the fight lasted. It could have been only minutes, but it could also have been hours. Time didn’t really mean anything anymore anyway. There was just the fighting, dodging blows and dealing them to her attackers, that seemed to keep coming, regardless of how many of them had been killed. Kate had no idea where they were coming from, but that too was not important. Nothing seemed to matter apart from the fighting.

Kate was vaguely aware that there was someone fighting beside her and that this someone had more than once deflected a blow that would have finished her, because her skills were so severely lacking. But there was not even time for a sideward glance to learn the identity of her guardian angel. That too would have to wait until they got themselves out of this bloody mess.

The fight ended as abruptly as it had begun. There was a flash of light, coming from somewhere to her left. It nearly blinded her and she shielded her eyes in a reflex. The bright light hurt her eyes after so long a time in the darkness. It was only after she had raised her hands to protect her eyes that she realised she had left the rest of her body wide open for attacks. Only a very foolish goblin would not make use of such an advantage and she prepared herself for the pain their blades would doubtlessly cause.

But the pain never came. There was yelping and shrieking from the goblins and Kate removed her hands from her eyes. The cave was still bathing in the light from Gandalf’s staff and she had to blink a few times to see anything at all, but when she could, she could see the goblins howling in pain. Some of them had fallen to the ground as if the light had physically hurt them and others were making a run for it as fast as they possibly could.

‘Follow me, everybody!’ Gandalf shouted. He was already taking the lead and the company wasted no time in running after him. Kate herself only paused to grab her rucksack from the ground – there was just no way that she would be leaving that behind – and then sprinted after the rest, catching up with Nori at the beginning of the tunnel that Gandalf had chosen to take.

‘Are you injured?’ he asked.

‘Not that I know of,’ Kate replied, falling into step with him. If ever she was grateful for taking the time to work out when she was still in her own world, it was now. Had she not done so, she would surely have been out of breath already. ‘How about you?’

Nori gave her a brilliant smile. ‘Perfectly fine,’ he assured her.

The light on Gandalf’s staff had faded to only the bare minimum again, but it was enough to recognise Nori’s weapon, the very same blade she had seen from the corner of her eyes several times while they were fighting. ‘You were the one looking out for me during the fight?’ She tried not to sound too surprised, but it seeped through in her voice all the same. Before this her relationship with Nori had been ambivalent to say the least, especially since he had tried to make off with some of her belongings while they were in Rivendell. The tongue-lashing she had given him for it was surely heard all over Eriador and things had been kind of awkward ever since, even when she had grown closer to Nori’s brothers.

Nori gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I’ll have to watch out for my little sister, don’t I?’ he said. ‘Dori would have my head if I didn’t,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘Of that I have no doubt,’ Kate agreed.

They ran on in silence, leaving Kate some time to think over Nori’s words. She had already known the Ri brothers had come to regard her as something close to a sibling, but it had always been an unspoken agreement, something that was acted on, but never really spoken about. It made her feel comfortable, protected even. But to hear it put into the spoken word gave her a warm feeling inside. In a strange way this had created something that tied her to this world, gave her a place of her own in this world where she did not belong.

 _Yes, keep this up and the next thing you know you won’t be going back home at all_ , she scolded herself the next moment. _This is not one of your stupid bloody fanfictions, girl. Get a grip_. And she needed to. Because she had been keeping her distance from the company on purpose. To leave them after the quest would only be so much harder if she had actually started to like some of them, never mind that she formed some kind of sibling bond with three of them. And no matter what she had tried to tell herself over the past few months, leaving would already be difficult, because these dwarves and even the hobbit had wriggled their way into her heart without her even noticing. _Bugger these dwarves_. She wasn’t sure how many times she had thought that already, but it had to be more times than she actually cared to count.

They kept up a quick pace that was exhausting for everyone, especially the ones that were already wounded, like poor old Balin, but no one complained, because exhaustion was still preferable over getting killed by goblins. Kate could not hear or see a sign of their pursuers and she was grateful for it. It allowed her to believe that just maybe they had lost them again. No doubt they would be found again when they stopped, so even when her lungs started screaming for more air and her legs started cramping she did not slow down. It was quite remarkable what a body could deal with when in danger, really.

She tried to keep her mind busy by trying to determine how much time had passed, but it was useless. Here in the dark it was hard to tell the time of day and all this running, resting, fighting and running again had thrown her off balance enough as it was. The time was not her main concern then and it should not be now.

Eventually Gandalf came to a halt and he beckoned them to do the same. They all grouped around him.

‘What now, wizard?’ Thorin demanded. Kate had lost sight of him during their flight, but his mood had definitely not been improving. Not that this very much surprised the advisor. She herself wasn’t in the highest spirits and the same could be said for every other member of the company. Dwarves may be hardy folk, she had come to learn, but they had all gone without food and sleep for God knows how long and they were being chased through these cursed mountains with goblins on their heels to top it off nicely. It was hardly a surprise no one was feeling exceptionally merry right now.

‘Now, Thorin Oakenshield, we will need to find a way to get through the back gate somehow.’ Kate had come to recognise this tone as a sign that the wizard was at least slightly irritated. He tended to take on such tones the moment someone seemed to be questioning his decisions, as Thorin had just done.

‘I’m not liking the sound of this,’ someone commented. It was hard to see anything, but Kate thought it would be a safe bet to say that it was Glóin.

‘There are guards on the door, aren’t there?’ Dori chimed in.

‘Good chance they sent down extra guards to it when they learned that we were doing a runner,’ Kate heard herself say. ‘They must know these tunnels far better than we do. No doubt they could have used shortcuts.’ It was an unwelcome thought, but she did remember reading something about the company needing to get past guards at the back door. The book however had failed to mention how many there would be, but taken into consideration that their group had been responsible for the death of the Great Goblin, the goblins were extremely pissed off. They would not like to take chances and by now they had to suspect where the company was heading.

Thorin’s look darkened, if that was even possible. He had not really looked very pleased before then anyway. ‘Is that true?’ he demanded of Gandalf, clearly hoping for a no.

Unfortunately they had no such luck. ‘We did need to make a few detours in order to avoid getting caught by goblins,’ the wizard replied, leaning on his staff as if for all the world they were only discussing today’s weather conditions and not their escape from hundreds, possibly thousands, of seriously annoyed goblins. ‘It is quite possible for them to have gotten to the back door long before now.’

Thorin looked like he might want to hit the wizard with something and Kate shared the sentiment. ‘Well, isn’t that just bloody brilliant of you?’ she snorted. ‘Because we could as well have taken the shortcuts for all the good those detours seemed to have done. And then we would have been out of this cursed place before we gave the goblins the opportunity to cut us off!’ She knew she was a bit unreasonable now, but she was never too nice when her energy was running out. Kate was pretty sure that the adrenaline was the only thing that kept her going right now and she was grateful for it, because it allowed her to do what needed to be done.

Most of the dwarves stared at her after this and for a moment the journalist wasn’t quite sure why. Then she recalled that she usually only spoke in tones like this to Thorin and not Gandalf. _Crap_.

‘Please tell me you at least got some sort of plan?’ she begged.

‘Those lights looked rather impressive, Mr Gandalf,’ Dori spoke up. ‘Would that not help us in getting past the guards?’

All eyes now settled on the wizard and he was more or less forced to admit that this approach might have some chance of success. ‘But you will still need your swords to cut through their last defences,’ the finished.

‘Charming,’ Kate commented. ‘You mean to say that you can’t just all blow them off their feet and knock them right into the middle of next week while you’re at it?’ She remembered seeing the wizard doing that in the movie and could not for the life of her understand why he would suddenly be incapable of repeating that rather impressive feat.

And apparently the wizard too had reached the end of his patience. ‘No, Miss Andrews, that is something I am not capable of doing!’ He had to keep his voice hushed just in case there were still goblins lurking about, but the tone managed to convey the message perfectly anyway. ‘You will have to play your own part or else you’ll just have to stay here and wait for the goblins to find you.’

This managed to extract a low growl from Nori’s throat and Dori took half a step sideward, placing him right in front of Kate. ‘We’re going to pretend that we did not hear that, wizard,’ Nori said. No one in his right mind would miss out on the angry, threatening tone. ‘That’s our sister you’re talking about and if I hear such a thing one more time, you’re going to regret it.’ Dori and Ori nodded their agreement.

For a moment Kate was flabbergasted. How on earth had this come about? And, more importantly, how had it come she had completely missed out on this development? Sure, she knew Dori had been looking out for her – or perhaps _fussing over her_ was a better way of phrasing it – ever since she had shoved Ori out of the way of that warg, and she had grown close to the three brothers ever since. Nori had gone as far as to call her a little sister for who he looked out in a fight, but this, this protectiveness was of another nature altogether. It was endearing and at the same time it was infuriating. She thought she had seen it all when Thorin started to play the protector when visiting Rivendell. Clearly she had been mistaken.

The rest of the company did not seem the least bit surprised, which would suggest that they had all known about this new sibling bond that had been formed without Kate’s knowledge or consent. She was trying to decide whether this made things better or only worse.

But it was definitely irritating and that was something she did not need to think on at all. So she tried to shove Dori out of the way and tried to wriggle out of the protective grasp his younger brother had on her waist. ‘Knock it off, will you?’ she snapped irritably at the pair of them. ‘I can hold my own, just in case you’d forgotten. Maybe not in a fight with swords, but words are easy enough.’ There was some sniggering from around the group, which she pointedly ignored. ‘We need to get out of here ASAP and…’

‘ASAP?’ Kíli asked. ‘What in Durin’s name is that?’

‘As soon as possible,’ she explained, before continuing where she left off. ‘Point is, we need to get out and the longer we’re standing here twiddling our thumbs and getting wound up over the words of a wizard, the more guards there will be on those doors. If we wish to avoid them, we had better get moving. As in right now,’ she added when no one seemed to be preparing to do something.

Thorin was the first to act. He gave a curt nod and directed his attention towards the wizard again. ‘You know the way out?’ he demanded.

A curt nod was the reply.

‘Then lead on.’ The dwarf king didn’t seem to like the idea any better than any of the others, but there wasn’t really any choice in all this. They had to get out of this place before their chances of escape would grow even slimmer. Of course both book and movie claimed that they would come out of this alive and relatively unscathed, but Kate knew better than to rely on her knowledge these days. It hadn’t warned her for the emergency exit and for all she knew it could be wrong about the back door as well. At any rate she had no ambition to find out what would happen if they lingered here any longer, but it would just so happen that these dwarves were very difficult to spur into action. Fortunately Thorin seemed to have taken her recent advice to grow himself a brain seriously.

Gandalf led them down yet another tunnel. They were descending for real, Kate could tell. It was easier to run now, even if the real challenge now was to not trip over her own feet. And really, it wasn’t long before she could see light at the end of the tunnel.

And no, this was not the headlight of an oncoming train, but there was still the minor complication of goblin guards at the end of this tunnel. Thorin gave Kíli and his bow a pointed look and then beckoned towards the guards without saying as much as a word. The intent was clear though.

The guards, positioned with their backs towards the company, were wholly unsuspecting. Kíli’s first arrow took out the first one and before his friend had even the chance to notice that something was amiss, he too fell to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his back, as dead as the proverbial doornail.

‘That was a stroke of luck,’ Fíli commented. There was a twinkle in his eyes again that had not been there while they had been the goblins’ honoured guests.

But this was yet one of those occasions that proved that cheering in advance was most definitely not a wise thing to be doing. They hurried down the corridor and came into the cave that led to the back door on the other end of it. It was open, the bright light of day flooding in and Kate would almost have sighed in relief, were it not that there were at least a hundred goblins – but quite possibly a whole lot more than that – between them and said door.

‘Bloody hell,’ she whispered in shock.

‘Mahal’s hammer!’ Nori agreed, a little louder, beside her.

The rest of the company just stared. They were outnumbered ten to one and Kate didn’t need to see the others’ faces to know that this was by no means a good thing. She had no idea what the odds had been whilst they had been fighting in the dark caves, but something told her that they had been slightly better.

‘Maybe we should have…’ she began softly.

But Gandalf interjected. ‘Cover your eyes,’ he warned.

Kate was about to ask what he meant by that, but the answer came soon enough. The light on Gandalf’s staff intensified and bathed the cave in light that was as bright or brighter as the light of day. The effect was immediate: the goblins started yelping and screaming as if the wizard had been stabbing their eyes out instead of just lighting his staff up a little. But maybe for them those two things were remarkably similar. After all, Kate did remember reading about goblins having no love of daylight at all.

‘Run!’ Gandalf’s command surely must be audible at the other side of the mountains. At least it would succeed in alerting every goblin in this blasted realm to their whereabouts.

But none of that mattered now. Because there was the door and most of the guards in front of it were crawling on the ground like a bunch of overgrown and very ugly cry-babies. And Kate ran. Nori was on her left side, cutting off several heads while he was at it, at least of those goblins who were still trying to hinder their flight. Thorin was on her other side, putting Orcrist to good use with one hand, while dragging her with him with the other. His grip on her hand was painful, but for the moment the very least of her concerns. They were so close now! Something scratched her leg, but she hardly felt it anymore. _Run faster, faster!_ Her own thoughts were cheering her on and when she finally crossed the threshold of that bloody door, she felt like she had won the marathon.

The daylight hurt her eyes after having been in darkness for so long. It made her eyes tear and her head ache, but she felt as if the entire mountain range had just been lifted off her shoulders. They had made it out. They had made it out and they were all still alive. None of the company had stopped running yet, but the triumphant laughter she could no longer hold back.

‘We did it!’ she cheered, sending Thorin a brilliant smile. Who cared about his grumpy attitude when they had just outwitted a bunch of bloodthirsty goblins anyway?

And of course he had to try and dampen her high spirits. ‘That we did,’ he agreed. That tone would have been more appropriate at the funeral of a close relative than at a successful flight from their enemies. Bloody dwarf.

The group came finally to a halt somewhere downhill in a small clearing between some high pine trees. Everyone was panting and some of them definitely looked a bit worse for wear, but the general mood was cheerful, overly so maybe, because they had escaped and were all still alive.

It was only when the excitement began to die down that Kate finally realised they were missing someone.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Where in Durin’s name is that troublesome burglar?_


	22. Revelation

**Chapter 22**

**Revelation**

 

_The relief was almost too much. I don’t think I had actually realised how very afraid I had truly been when we were still trapped inside those mountains until the fear left me all of a sudden. Maybe fear is a state of mind that you can get used to, up to a point where you can ignore it when you have felt it for too long. Quite frankly, I did not really care about that. As it was, I just felt like singing because we were out of those horrid, dark, stinking, goblin-infested tunnels._

_And no, before you ask, I did not actually burst into song. Bofur started to whistle a tune, but that was as far as the musical element of our escape went. But we were cheerful, laughing and talking too loud and for once we did not care about it. In that moment we felt invincible and more alive than we had felt in a long, long time. It’s something one can only feel after having survived one particular dangerous situation, I imagine, which means that most of you will probably know exactly what I am talking about. Really, sometimes I wish you lot would not take after your father so much; diving headfirst into dangerous situations without giving it as much as a second thought. It must be a Durin thing._

_At any rate we were rather happy. The sun was still high in the sky and it was a warm summer’s day, which was a nice change from the icy cold that we had experienced within the mountains. Or rather, it was a nice day up to the point that we discovered that our little group no longer counted sixteen people, but only fifteen…_

 

‘Shit!’ Kate exclaimed loudly. ‘Shit, shit, _shit_!’

Now that got her everyone’s undivided attention. Before het outburst everyone had been happy, laughing and cheering over how easy it had been to get away from the goblins. Kate reckoned that either they disagreed about the definition of easy or most of her companions were suffering from instant amnesia. Even Gandalf joined in the instant celebrations. He had pulled out his pipe and was merrily smoking away, smiling serenely. The way he stood there he gave the impression of the indulgent parent allowing his naughty children a bit of fun before he broke up the party.

In this case however it was Kate who put an end to all the laughter by cursing. The group fell silent almost immediately.

‘Something the matter, lass?’ Balin asked.

The advisor was tempted to roll her eyes at him. Honestly, were they all blind as well as forgetful? ‘Haven’t you realised yet that we are missing someone?’ she demanded.

That got her a few confused look, but fortunately Bofur caught on before she would be forced to bang her head against the nearest tree with exasperation. ‘Where’s Mr Baggins?’ he wondered out loud. ‘Where’s the burglar?’

‘He’s not here,’ Kíli said.

Kate felt like snapping at him and before she could hold herself back, she had acted on that impulse. ‘Thanks for that, Captain Obvious!’ she exploded. ‘I’m sure we’re all very much capable of seeing that for ourselves!’

Ugh, dwarves! If she thought it would actually help if she banged their heads against something solid – and if she thought she had actually the strength to get them into motion, she added to herself – she would have done so a long time ago, starting with their king. But really, now she was mostly angry with herself. Her companions may not know any better, but she certainly should have. She knew the book and she knew the movie and in both of them Bilbo disappeared during their trip through Goblin-town. Of course, she had been rather scared for the whole time and maybe her nerves had been eased somewhat when she learned that Bilbo had managed to find Gandalf and return to them. If anything would have happened, she had told herself, it would have happened then, not later.

 _Oh, good grief, will you please calm down?_ common sense snapped at her. _If you know your book so well, you will also know that Bilbo will return to you shortly. So stop making such a fuss._

But Kate didn’t think things were just that simple. Goblin-town had been anything but simple and lately her book seemed to become far less reliable than she would like. The goblin fiasco, as she privately dubbed it, was just a good example of just how pear-shaped events could go. That emergency exit had not been in the book. So what if Bilbo got lost under the mountains? What if he got found by goblins? What if he never found the Ring and Gollum just chose to eat him? Truth was that the journalist had grown rather attached to the unwilling burglar and she would really prefer him to just be with them. Maybe it was necessary for him to find the Ring, but at the moment she could not care less about that stupid piece of powerful jewellery. She just wanted Bilbo to be back with the company and the Ring be damned. They could figure out what to do with that later.

For now all that really mattered was that they had somehow managed to lose the burglar. And the others started to realise that too. Thorin looked murderous, although Kate expected that he merely looked like that because Bilbo was causing them trouble and not because he suddenly cared about what happened to him, and Gandalf looked properly horrified. Now that was utterly ridiculous, because he too must know what had happened to Bilbo. Sometimes he really started to annoy her by acting ignorant. It also made her wonder whether he was doing it on purpose, to never let anyone know that he too knew more about the events that were still to come than he was letting on. If that was the case, she could not help but wonder why.

The rest of the group was less than amused too. ‘Now he’s lost?’ Dwalin all but threw his hands into the air in exasperation. ‘I thought he was with Dori!’

Dori sent the warrior a look that would have made even the dragon cower in fear, Kate supposed. ‘Don’t blame me!’ he snapped. ‘I was trying to drag him away from the fighting, back in the cave, but Gandalf was swinging that sword of his around so fiercely that he almost chopped my head off and I had to let go off him.’

The wizard now looked less than pleased. For some reason Kate felt that he didn’t want Bilbo to get lost, which would also mean that he did not want the burglar to find the Ring. Kate could understand that, she supposed, but at least it would be better if Bilbo had it than Gollum or, heaven forbid, those awful goblins.

‘Why did you not find him after?’ Gandalf demanded.

‘I would have liked to see you try!’ Dori was quite a force to be reckoned with when properly angered, the advisor realised, and she was glad that he seemed to be on her side right now. Maybe it was just the natural result of having to look after two younger brothers, one of which surely had what one would call a knack for trouble. ‘There were goblins fighting and biting in the dark and everybody was falling over bodies and hitting one another! Then you were swinging Glamdring very near my head and Thorin was stabbing here, there and everywhere with Orcrist. And then all of a sudden you gave one of your blinding flashes and then you shouted that everybody should follow you. And everybody ought to have followed!’

‘You should have checked it!’ This was rapidly becoming a full-blown fight.

‘Knock it off, will you!’ She had not given herself permission to speak, but when she checked the words had already come rolling out of her mouth. ‘You’re standing there fighting like a bunch of headless chickens instead of the adults you’re supposed to be!’ She blamed the exhaustion for this. Normally she had a slightly better control over her own words. Control was practically non-existent right now.

‘Then what would you have us do?’ Dwalin questioned. Now that they were out of trouble it was apparently okay for him to start snapping at her again, eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Go back to look for him?’

‘I was going to suggest no such thing!’ Kate snapped. No matter how much she worried that these events would not unfold like the story she knew, even she could tell it would be beyond foolish to venture back into the goblins’ realm. ‘But we can’t just go on without him either, now, can we?’ She held his gaze, silently challenging him.

Good grief, that dwarf was becoming a bother. Oh well, who was she fooling really? His distrust still hurt, painfully so. She had believed Dwalin to be one of those who was starting to like her, if his patient sword fighting lessons were any indication at least. But that book had become an obstacle and she almost wished she had changed her mind that day. Why could she not have snatched another book off the table before she had exited the house, some Harry Potter novel or something?

‘He’s been more trouble than use so far,’ the warrior countered. ‘We’re best rid of him.’ _And of you_. Those words were not spoken, but Kate had become quite skilled in reading between the lines.

But she was saved from having to say something by Gandalf. If Dori was a force to be reckoned with when in anger, Gandalf was a force to be avoided when mad. ‘I don’t bring things or people that are of no use, Dwalin!’ he bellowed. ‘Now either you help me to look for him, or I am going back alone and you are quite welcome to sort out this mess yourselves!’

It wasn’t just Dwalin that got mad over this. Several of the others were a little more than displeased as well. ‘You want us to go back into those dreaded mountains, wizard?’ That was Thorin, whose glare was at least a perfect match for Gandalf’s and Dwalin’s. Keep this up and it might just turn into a glaring match here.

‘If that is what it takes to find Bilbo Baggins,’ the wizard replied calmly, seemingly unaware of the anger this caused among the dwarves. He was still leaning on that staff of his, looking slightly worried, but not too much.

And why keep up this act? Kate frowned as she studied the tallest member of the company. He knew the book as well as she did, but he was behaving as if he had no idea. The longer that dragged on, the more annoying it became.

‘Oh, drop the bloody act, Gandalf!’ she exploded before any of the others had the chance to say something. ‘You know as well as I do that Bilbo will soon be with us again!’

The silence was deafening. It was one of the loudest silences Kate had ever heard in her life and she had heard a good few. She was uncomfortably aware of all the dwarves’ eyes on her, wondering what in Durin’s name she was going on about.

But she found that she really could not care anymore about all that. She was just angry now and all this secrecy was getting on her nerves, badly. True, she understood perfectly why Thorin wanted her to keep quiet about her knowledge. Had their roles been reversed, she might have preferred him to keep his mouth firmly shut as well. But their roles were not reversed and right now she had just about enough of it, enough of those questioning glances that silently asked what she was even doing here, enough of them thinking that she had no real place amongst them and certainly more than enough of Thorin’s stubborn refusal to believe her when her words didn’t suit him. Had she been any less tired, she would probably have taken the time to think this over before she gave in to her anger and frustration, but right now she was tired, and mad. And that had never proven to be an ideal combination.

‘I think that perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere else, don’t you think, Miss Andrews?’ Gandalf asked pleasantly. But he did not fool her. His smile had become rather fixed all of a sudden.

‘No need,’ she all but snapped. ‘I’m done with all the secrecy. Why the bloody cloak and dagger in the first place? Why _do_ you want to keep them from finding out?’ Now she felt at least remotely pleased with herself. Even if Gandalf somehow managed to slap this discussion down, they were still in the company of a bunch of overly curious dwarves, who would be dying to know what this was all about by now.

‘Miss Andrews…’ Gandalf began, looking like he would like to do nothing more than blast her all the way into the middle of next week.

Strange that Thorin had yet to say something, Kate observed. A quick glance in his direction taught her that he was just watching the scene unfolding before his eyes, arms folded across his chest. The look in his eyes however was alert. He didn’t miss a spell, she was sure.

It was as if he had felt her look, for he turned his head to look at her. And suddenly she wasn’t too sure about this anymore. Thorin had a few good reasons for keeping this whole sorry affair silent and he would surely not thank her for blurting it all out in a fit of anger, as she was clearly planning on doing. To her surprise however he gave her a very curt nod, that she would have called reassuring if she had not been one hundred percent sure that that word didn’t even show up in the Oakenshield dictionary.

‘What are you talking about?’ Kíli questioned, looking utterly confused and utterly curious at the same time.

Well, Thorin had more or less given his blessing, so it must be okay to start spilling the beans, she reckoned. ‘The fact that I already know what is going to happen,’ she told the archer. ‘And I know that because in my world all the adventures that we are now having are the stuff of a famous story.’

The impact could not have been bigger if she had just dropped a bomb in their midst. Everyone was staring at her, some with jaws dropped. Kate didn’t think they could have been capable of talking even if she had been threatening them with a knife to the throat for pure shock.

And suddenly this didn’t feel like such a good idea anymore at all. What if they were taking this as badly as Dwalin and Thorin? What if Balin’s calm reaction was just the exception? In that case she had just made a pariah out of herself and the company would avoid her like the plague. She doubted even her new “siblings” would want anything to do with her after this.

But everyone was obviously waiting for her to explain herself, so she went on regardless. ‘It’s the reason why Gandalf brought me here. Or that’s what I’m thinking at least, since he has not yet chosen to explain his actions to anyone. But well, he seems to be thinking I’m some kind of advisor, that I should be helping you to change certain events that are in this book, so that they would not happen.’

Bofur seemed to be the first one to find his tongue again. ‘You knew about the goblins?’ Was it just her imagination, or was there an underlying tone of wariness to his voice?

Well, it would make sense for him to be suspicious, Kate supposed. It didn’t mean that she liked it however. ‘I knew there were goblins there and, according to the book, we would camp right on their front porch.’

That seemed to confuse him. ‘They called it the emergency exit.’

Kate sighed. ‘That’s because we avoided the main gate,’ she explained. ‘We found that one when we were cave-hunting, so we went in search for another cave and since the story never made mention of that bloody emergency exit, I had no way of knowing that there even was one.’ After all that had happened it still seemed ridiculous that they had stayed clear of the front gate only to get captured at the emergency exit.

The others were still staring at her as if they had permanently frozen into that posture. All in all it made her very, very uncomfortable. The more her anger faded away, the more room there seemed to be for embarrassment and the desperate wish for the ground to open and swallow her up, even if it would take her straight back into Goblin-town. Anything was better than this fish imitation in at least tenfold.

Well, at least no one was pulling a Dwalin so far and had started shouting at her for possessing knowledge about things that were still to come. She was glad of it, because she was not even sure how much more she could take. Besides, that would not even be fair to be doing. After all, it was hardly her fault that the book existed in the first place and she could not help it either that for some reason Gandalf had deemed it wise to bring her along as the company advisor, even when there had not been much advising going on up to now.

In the end of course it had to be Kíli that broke the silence. ‘So, you really _are_ the omniscient one!’ he exclaimed.

Kate was torn between wanting laughing in his face and wanting to slap it. She recalled all too well that he had said the exact same thing when she had first arrived. Of course that belief had soon worn off and she had been glad of it. To them she had soon become a burden, only there because the wizard insisted on it. It had suited her, and mostly Thorin, just fine. Of course that was over and done with now that she had started spilling the beans about her knowledge.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. ‘No, I’m not!’ she said forcefully. ‘The real events don’t always do what the book says. I don’t know everything!’ There was an enthusiasm in his eyes that made her want to panic all over again. It made her feel like really everything would come down to her and she was quite sure she did not want that at all. There was already more responsibility resting on her shoulders than she had ever wanted.

The result of her words was not quite what she had meant though. Fíli started to look rather pleased now too. ‘But you do know something.’

Why on earth had in seemed like a good idea to reveal her knowledge again? Oh, yes, that’s right, because she had been extremely short-tempered and had not been thinking at all before she blurted it out, as per bloody usual. But there was no way she could reasonably deny this, so she nodded. ‘Something, yes.’

Of course that had been the wrong thing to say, since more dwarves started to look far too excited for her liking. ‘So, you can help us!’ Kíli spoke up. ‘You can keep us out of trouble!’

Yes, this had definitely not been a good idea. At the moment, Kate was quite sure she would have preferred the shouting over this enthusiasm. Dwalin’s sentiment didn’t seem to be shared by the other members of the company. They all looked rather glad with the idea of someone who could help them with their quest. But Kate felt she could not deal with this. Shouting she could handle, their hopes and expectations she could not. Was this perhaps how Thorin felt from time to time, like he alone would be responsible for the success of the quest?

She threw her hands up into the air as if to protect herself. ‘Oh no!’ she said. ‘It isn’t like that.’

Bombur frowned. ‘Why not?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Well, firstly, because the book isn’t always right. Some things that happen, like us getting caught at the goblins’ emergency exit, that’s not in it. Come to think of it, I’m not in it either. And secondly, I can’t keep you out of trouble because I can’t make you do anything.’ _And yes, Thorin, you can take that hint and run with it_. ‘And thirdly, even when I think I’ve managed to get us out of trouble, the trouble comes and finds us anyway.’ She was slightly out of breath after that rant, but at least she hoped she had talked some sense into their heads now. Any moment they could start shouting at her about her incompetence.

But that was wishful thinking. If anything, their smiles got even wider. Good grief, had these dwarves no common sense at all? Only Dwalin looked still positively murderous and Thorin wasn’t too pleased either. Gandalf’s expression was hard to make out, since he was safely hidden behind his beloved smokescreen again. _Always good to know that some things never really change_ , she thought wryly.

‘So, Mr Baggins will come back?’ Glóin asked.

Kate nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly. ‘The story seems to suggest that he will join us shortly, but…’

At this point she was interrupted by Óin. His hearing trumpet had been rather damaged since the goblins had been under the impression that rehearsing for a part in Riverdance on the thing had been a good idea. Consequently the dwarf’s hearing was even worse than it already was. ‘She says he’ll come back!’ he exclaimed.

‘I’m saying no such thing!’ she protested immediately. Shit, the last thing she needed was all of them starting to rely on her knowledge as if it was God’s gift to mankind, which in her opinion it really wasn’t. Because if that happened, then the next time she inevitably wouldn’t know about something that happened, they would start to blame her for their misfortunes and she had had too much of that already with Thorin. ‘The story claims that he will indeed come back, but there’s just no telling if that’s really going to happen!’

Her voice had gradually risen, until she was nearly shouting and at least that helped her in shutting them up. Not that this was any better. The silence was deafening again. Had someone dropped a pin, it might have deafened the lot of them.

It was almost becoming too awkward again, when all of a sudden the silence was broken by an altogether familiar voice. ‘Well, here I am again.’

Kate swivelled around and found herself face to face with a dishevelled looking, but very alive Bilbo Baggins.

 

***

 

Thorin did not know if he should be relieved or disappointed that the burglar had returned to them. He was strongly tended towards the latter. The incident on the cliff had proven to him beyond the shadow of a doubt that the halfling was next to useless when it came down to it. No, he was even a danger, to himself as much as to his companions. Thorin thought he would have preferred it if the hobbit had just taken his chance to run back off to his comfortable hobbit-hole again, so that the dwarf king would never again have to deal with him.

Unfortunately Kate’s knowledge had been absolutely spot on. Right now he was long past the point where he would let himself be frightened by this. He had done away with that the moment he had decided to give her blasted book a chance to prove its worth. And that was what it had done. They had made it over – or rather under – the mountains and he had done as she had said for the duration of that trip.

So, now was probably the time to evaluate that decision. She had been right about both the presence of the stone giants and the goblins’ main gate. She had however not been aware of the existence of the emergency exit. Part of him, the part that would stay as far away from that book as possible, told him that was more than enough reason to dismiss whatever else would be coming out of her mouth. But that was childish and he knew it. As much as he hated the thought, he could simply not afford to not work with her. He had sworn a vow to do everything in his power to make sure that each and every member of this company came out of this alive and he stood by that. And that meant that discarding Miss Andrews’s knowledge would be a very foolish move indeed.

His eyes glanced over the clearing where they were catching their breaths. Kate had insisted they should press on, because all too soon they would have the goblins on their trail again. Thorin hadn’t even needed her to tell him this; he had known it already. It was a consequence of having killed the Great Goblin and quite a few of his men. The goblins would not let him get away with such a thing.

But they had injuries that still needed seeing to. And they would still have a few hours of daylight left. One hour would hardly make a difference and they needed the break from running more than Thorin was ready to admit. Now that the excitement of the flight started to wear off he was feeling the weariness all the better. Hardy dwarf or not, they could get exhausted if they were not careful. Soon, he pondered, they would need to find a safe place where they could at least catch a few hours of sleep.

The company advisor had previously been looking utterly exhausted, but right now she seemed to be as awake as she could be again. Maybe it had been her ranting that gave her energy. Thorin chuckled under his breath. Other people gained their energy from food, sleep and good company, but that woman seemed to be capable to get hers from her anger. Miss Andrews’s fury was like a burning fire keeping her going.

But her behaviour was confusing to the dwarf king. He had thought that she would be glad that the others took the news of her book so well, instead of shouting at her like Dwalin had done. Her flying off the handle had taken him completely by surprise.

He walked over to her, suddenly remembering that he actually still had the book. He had forgotten all about it during their flight and of course it had not been really important then. But it was hers after all and the fact that he allowed her to use it, didn’t mean he suddenly liked to have it.

The advisor was digging through her bag, obviously looking for something with a deep frown in her forehead.

‘Looking for something, Miss Andrews?’ Thorin inquired politely.

She looked up. ‘The book,’ she admitted with a look of defeat. ‘The goblins must still have it. I really thought everything was still there.’ She sent him a weary smile. ‘Guess I’ll have to work from memory now.’

‘No, you won’t,’ Thorin disagreed. He took the book from behind his belt and handed it back to her. ‘I found this on the platform.’

Kate’s jaw actually dropped and she stared at him. ‘Let me get this straight: you found my book and didn’t throw it over the nearest cliff, but instead decided to give it back to me?’ The disbelief was obvious in her voice.

Thorin gave a curt nod in confirmation.

She shook her head. ‘Then who the hell are you and what have you done with the real Thorin Oakenshield?’

Was it truly that hard to believe that he was not completely unfeeling? ‘It was not my place to decide what to do with your belongings,’ he told her as gruffly as he could manage. ‘This book belongs to you, not to me.’

Kate arched an eyebrow and was clearly debating with herself whether to dispute his point, but then decided against it. ‘And that coat belongs to you, not to me,’ she pointed out. ‘And I think you had better take it back before anyone else gets any ideas.’ She was obviously referring to what Bilbo had said back in the cave. ‘Where he got those ideas, heaven only knows,’ she added as an afterthought. She had taken the coat off a while ago and it was still lying next to her on the ground. The air out here was warm, so unlike the cold wind on the mountains, and she had no need of it here. And at least it seemed as if her cloak had made it through Goblin-town, even if it was a bit worse for wear.

‘Your culture does not believe this to be a sign of affection?’ Thorin heard himself ask. He had wondered about it before and there seemed to be no real reason not to ask.

But Kate misunderstood, her eyes widening in horror. ‘If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…’

Thorin sent her a scowl. ‘Try not to be ridiculous, Miss Andrews.’

‘Just saying…’ she muttered. ‘Why did you even let me go ahead and tell them about the book?’

Wasn’t this woman just a living and breathing contradiction? ‘I believed you wanted to tell them?’

‘Yes, and you didn’t want me to,’ she shot back immediately. ‘Why this change of heart? Don’t think that the stay with the goblins has mellowed you out.’

Thorin had never heard that expression before, but she got her point across well enough. But he also knew that he did not have a real answer for her. It had been a spur of the moment decision and thinking things through hadn’t really come into it. Her question forced him to think about his own motives. Maybe he had just wanted her to look stupid in front of the company. He had doubted the others would even believe her and so he had allowed her to shout it out on top of her lungs. Now of course the others had not quite reacted in such a fashion.

But Thorin did not think that was the reason. If he was really honest with himself, and it would seem that the situation required that, then he would have to admit that he was tired of all the secrecy, tired of the fighting. It was like trying to fight his way upstream in a strong current and he had enough of it. His fighting didn’t seem to be doing any of them any good. The book turned out to be right about almost everything, no matter what he did or said. And Gandalf was still not of a mind to send the advisor away. He would have to learn to live with her.

He sat down on the ground opposite her, taking out his sword to sharpen it, so he had a very good excuse not to look at Miss Andrews. ‘There is no use in fighting,’ he told her. He would have said that she was right, but that was taking things a bit too far too soon and she could read well enough between the lines anyway.

And his assumption was right. If she kept up this eyebrow-raising, they’d be halfway her forehead by this time tomorrow. ‘So, you’re saying that we should work together for a change? Instead of getting on each other’s nerves so badly that we start hitting each other again, that is?’

‘So far you have been the only one to use violence, Miss Andrews,’ Thorin felt obliged to point out. He kept his eyes on the blade, but he could not stifle the smirk on his lips entirely, especially not when he saw the expression on her face that told everyone with a brain that was currently very much wishing she could hit him there and then.

It also made him wonder where the two of them were standing. In the short few months that he had known her they had been on the brink of being mortal enemies, they had been, as she would so eloquently phrase it, each other’s pain in the arse and they had ended up reluctant allies. Yet they had also been jesting and exchanging witticisms and the elves had clearly thought them married, Mahal forbid.

‘Very funny,’ she commented dryly. ‘Rub my nose in it, why don’t you?’

‘I believe it was you who started about getting violent, Miss Andrews.’ This felt like the bantering in Rivendell and even though Thorin knew that they would soon be on the move again to avoid getting run down by a mob of vengeful goblins, he felt strangely relaxed. He blamed it on giving up the fighting. That usually took up so much energy.

Kate did frown though. ‘So, what about us?’ she wondered.

Thorin gave her a questioning glance. ‘What do you mean?’

The advisor looked startled, as if she had not realised she had spoken aloud. She recovered soon however. ‘We, where do we stand?’ she repeated. ‘To be quite honest, I think you’re horribly confusing. And infuriating from time to time. One moment you seem to be thinking I’m worth less than the dirt under your shoes and the next you’re fussing over me freezing to death.’

‘And you yourself are shouting at me one second to be sleeping on my chest the next.’ It really was too easy to counter this accusation.

‘On your insistence,’ she shot back. ‘And only because you would have held me in some kind of death grip had I not stayed put.’ Unlike what he had expected, there were no venomous undertones and they were not even in a crisis. Progress, as she would probably say.

He arched an eyebrow. ‘You would rather have frozen to death?’

Kate tilted her head. ‘That’s a little bit exaggerated, don’t you think?’

‘You would have gotten a fever,’ Thorin pointed out. ‘As the leader of this company it is my responsibility that no harm befalls you.’

It earned him a chuckle. ‘Thorin Oakenshield admitting he actually cares? Whatever next?’

The way that woman was going on one would almost think that she did not want people to care for her. She had acted the same when Dori and Nori had stood up for her. ‘You are a woman,’ he told her brusquely. ‘You ought not even to be on this quest in the first place.’ His temper flared. She really did not see, did she? What kind of horrible world did she come from if she was not used to men taking care of their womenfolk? It was the most natural thing in the world for Thorin, something he had been taught since birth. He knew his race had perfected the art of protecting their women, since there were already so few of them, but the other races of Middle Earth were also of the opinion that women were far more fragile than their males.

But she had somehow taken offence in his words. Her eyes narrowed in anger. ‘Get that hairy head of yours out of the Dark Age, will you?’ she snapped. ‘Never heard of such a thing as gender equality, have you? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much!’

If he had not been extremely irritated by the time the last words had left her mouth, he would have laughed at the absurdity of that claim. Miss Andrews was a lot of things – hot-headed, somewhat intelligent and observant – but being able to take care of herself was not one of her qualities. One only had to look at her to know that. She was so fragile she would be blown away in the gentlest breeze and it was established that her skills with a sword were severely lacking. What kind of people would leave their women to go out into the wild on their own? But maybe it was not that much of a surprise that the women born to such a people would be hardened somewhat, if only for their self-protection?

‘Your world must be a harsh one,’ he observed.

That seemed to take her by surprise. ‘Whatever makes you say that?’ she wondered.

‘Do the men not take care of you?’ he clarified.

He may have been suspecting anger, but a bark of laugher was the reply he got. ‘Good heaven, no!’ she exclaimed. ‘And thank goodness for that. It took women long enough to get the rights they have now, and that’s leaving the fact that approximately half of the males of the world population are downright bastards.’

When Kate said that, she didn’t mean children that were born out of wedlock, Thorin had come to learn. The first time he heard her use the word it had been to some member of the company as in ‘Thorin looks like one grumpy bastard’ and he had been about to go and demand of her whether she was questioning his parentage, but then he had learned that she actually meant it as a word indicating that she was none too fond of him. It had nothing to do with his birth at all.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he forced himself to say, recalling something about her father that seemed to bother her from time to time.

Kate conjured up a smile, stuffing her belongings back in the rucksack. ‘They’re not all bad. I used to share a house with two of my best friends, one of them a guy. John was okay, I’d say. And my brother is all right as well, I guess.’ She thought about that for a moment. ‘Our worlds are just different, I suppose. But that is why you lot are all so fussy about me from time to time, isn’t it, even when you don’t like me at all.’

Thorin noted with interest that this was the first more or less civilised conversation they had had so far, but he would not start cheering in advance. They were not done yet and he was quite sure the last part of the sentence had been meant for him. ‘Yes,’ he nodded, getting up. It was about time they moved on. The day was passing and it would be dark within a few hours. ‘And I do not have a dislike of you.’ He had meant to say those words only to appease her a little, but he found that he meant them. _The stay with the goblins must have “mellowed you out” indeed_ , his brain commented.

‘Really?’ the advisor asked. She got to her feet herself. ‘Progress again. What does that make of us then?’

In any other circumstance he would have called her a friend, but that seemed absurd. Thorin never had any friends outside his own race. He was not even sure that he considered this woman one. But his image had already been put at risk. He might as well do things thoroughly. ‘Friends, Miss Andrews,’ he replied.

‘Friends?’ Kate seemed to think about it. ‘We could try that, I suppose. I am sure our companions would be grateful for it too.’

No protest from her lips? That surprised him. ‘Quite right,’ he grumbled, returning to the rest of the company. ‘Are you coming, Miss Andrews? We are moving out,’ he added when she did not follow him right away.

An annoyed expression crossed her face as she caught up with him. ‘Friends we may be, but if you call me by my surname again, I might just hit you,’ she threatened. ‘I’m quite used to friends using my first name, you know.’

Thorin snorted. ‘And this is coming from the woman who has called me Mr Oakenshield for the last few months?’

She rolled her eyes at him, but there was an amused smile on her face. It was another glimpse of the happy woman in the painting. Maybe it was just the relief of having escaped the goblins that was guiding their actions now. If this had been a crisis, they would probably never have agreed on being friends. Maybe Thorin wasn’t the only one who had mellowed out. ‘Fine then, _Thorin_ ,’ she said with emphasis. ‘Have it your way.’

‘I am the leader of this company, Miss… Kate.’ He could only just rectify his error before it was too late. ‘I am used to getting my way.’

This had her chuckling. ‘Miss Kate, eh?’ Another chuckle followed. ‘And you may want to tell Gandalf that you are the leader. He seems to have forgotten it again.’ She gave a pointed look in the wizard’s direction, who indeed seemed to be quite busy bossing Bofur and Fíli around. ‘Just a piece of _friendly_ advice,’ she added. ‘We can’t have him undermine your authority now, can we?’

‘We?’ he heard himself asking.

Kate shrugged. ‘That’s just a thing friends do for one another, right?’

He supposed so, but he would not have expected it from this woman. It was a thing Balin or Dwalin could have done. But they had just agreed on being friends – even though he had never heard about anyone who _agreed_ to something like friendship ever before in his life – so he supposed he should start to get used to it. He didn’t dislike that idea as much as he’d thought.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s note: _Well, all in all I’d say that was an interesting day, even though I’m not yet sure about this whole friendship thing with Thorin. Really strange to call him by his given name in the first place really. But, well, he did propose it himself and I could do without all the arguing for a while. Come to think of it, didn’t I tell him that we were not quite friends back in Rivendell? And he has been acting somewhat nicer lately. I guess I could just give it a try, right?_

_I do wonder though if the goblins are going after us. As far as I can tell it’s still quite early, so we might get quite a long way before dark falls. Who knows, we might be lucky… I’m keeping my fingers crossed._


	23. Burning Times

**Chapter 23**

**Burning Times**

 

_It was almost too easy for me to forget that we had escaped the goblins when we made our way further down the mountain. The air was warm, the sun was shining and the mood was cheerful. I had pointed out that we might very well either have Azog or goblins on our trail come nightfall – depending on whether the real events followed the book or the movie – but my companions seemed to disregard that idea. They were too cheerful and not in any mood to listen to doom scenarios._

_I can’t say that I really blamed them for that. I felt far more at ease myself if I allowed myself to believe that we would have a nice goblin-free night ahead of us, but Murphy’s Law had not appeared to be limited to just my world so far._

_Fortunately the persons whose opinion really mattered, Thorin and Gandalf, had listened. The wizard was encouraging – or perhaps_ ordering _is a better word for it – us to walk the fastest we could, which was not too fast. Bofur had sustained an injury in his leg at one point and he was still limping and both Dori and Balin had been wounded as well. That didn’t stop the former from fussing over the wound on my face though._

_Gandalf and Thorin led the way, the latter with a scowl on his face, no doubt hating the fact that Gandalf had once again deluded himself into thinking he was in charge here. He walked with big steps, the ones you, Thoren, used to try and copy when you were younger in order to appear more impressive. I can still see you marching around Erebor, trying to imitate Thorin’s most disapproving frown as you went. Of course we always laughed at it secretly, but when your father did it, there was nothing funny about it to be sure. Combined with that angry scowl I remember thinking that we should not be afraid for our own wellbeing, but rather for that of the dragon._

_And soon, it would turn out, he had every right to be as brooding as he was…_

 

Kate had fallen into step with Dori, Balin and Glóin. Her self-appointed brother had gotten himself injured in one fight or the other. It had been so much chaos in there that she had lost track of him for a while, so it would be impossible for her to say when he had gotten hurt. Not that it stopped him from fussing over the wound the whip had caused on her face.

‘Knock it off, will you?’ she snapped in the end. ‘What on earth is the matter with you dwarves anyway? I’m not made of porcelain.’

Unfortunately for her that was what all her companions seemed to think anyway. She was pretty sure not all of them even liked her – Dwalin sure as hell did not – but as soon as something happened to her, they all went straight into the protect-and-fuss-over-the-delicate-female-mode and she had just about enough of it.

‘You are a woman, lass,’ Balin explained.

She could only just stop herself from groaning in frustration. ‘Not you too, Balin?’

To her surprise this had him laughing. ‘You spent too much time around Thorin,’ he clarified when she threw him a confused look. ‘You sound exactly like him.’

She was unsure of what to do with such a comment and in the end settled for a rather wryly spoken ‘I suppose I’ll take a compliment where I can find one.’ This had all three of them laughing, so she went back to her earlier question. ‘Seriously, what’s the matter with you lot? It’s just a scratch and Thorin too was looking at me if I might break in half with the softest breeze. Óin says it will heal within days as long as I keep it clean.’

‘It’s because you’re a woman,’ Glóin explained. ‘And a delicate one too.’

Now it was Kate’s turn to surrender to fits of laughter. ‘That’s not exactly what my ex-boyfriend said when I broke his nose.’ Earlier she had refrained from talking about her life back home, because it had been too painful. But knowing that one day she would return home had taken the edge off the pain and she felt more or less at ease with these dwarves, annoying though they sometimes might be.

She went over what Glóin, Balin and Thorin had said. All of them had seemed to be worrying for her only because she was a woman. While this annoyed her to absolutely no end, she now forced herself to recall the little Tolkien had said about dwarf-women. The only thing that her mind would come up with was that they were only about a third of the population and that they hardly ever travelled abroad. Neither of those things provided her with an explanation for her companions’ behaviour.

But her companions were distracted now by her mentioning using violence. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’ Dori asked, appearing to be in shock.

‘I caught him cheating on me with my colleague,’ she replied. And self-control had not been too high on her list of priorities back then. All in all it felt quite good to unleash her fist on his handsome face. It had been even more satisfactory to hear him howl in pain, which was no less than he deserved in Kate’s opinion. ‘I lost it and hit him.’

Dori still looked distinctly ruffled. ‘Well, I won’t say he did not deserve it,’ he muttered and he seemed to mean that. ‘But you should not have concerned yourself with such things. You have a brother, don’t you?’ And when Kate nodded, he said: ‘Then he could have stood up for your honour. He should have done.’

‘This is about my honour?’ she exclaimed. It was probably a culture thing, but really, did they have to have such medieval opinions all the time? ‘In that case I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.’

Three faces told her they did not agree with her on that one.

Kate suppressed the urge to hit them all and instead settled for sending them all stern glances. ‘Look, I understand you guys are probably brought up differently, but, let’s face it, I’m from another world. We do things differently there. And like it or not, I belong to that world and I am not about to change just because you lot are of the opinion that I am incapable of looking out for myself.’ Her patience with all this fussing nonsense was rapidly running out, which may or may not have something to do with her energy running out as well. Common sense told her it would be a good idea not to fly off the handle right here and now, but she pretended she had not heard it. The annoying thing about common sense was that it always wanted her to be reasonable in moments where she would like to do nothing better than give an imitation of a three year old’s most annoying behaviour.

Balin patted her arm affectionately. ‘Dori means well, lass.’

Really, what was it with this old dwarf that made it just impossible for her to get cross with him? She found herself giving him a wry smile before she had given herself permission to do so. ‘I know that.’ The tone was still annoyed, but she was not really mad, she found. While all this fussing was beyond irritating, a small part of her was also touched by the fact that people who in some cases could not wait to see the back of her were still concerned for her wellbeing, despite her snapping at them. ‘It’s just… well, I’m used to fighting my own battles, standing up for myself. Your attitude is… suffocating is the word, I guess. And it’s so bloody confusing, since most of you don’t appear to be overly fond of me.’

‘Ah.’ Understanding dawned on Balin’s face. ‘That is what’s troubling you?’

Kate frowned. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

This got a laugh out of him. ‘What do you know about the women of our race?’ he asked.

‘Only that they are few in number and in appearance very much like your men,’ Kate summed up. ‘It’s not a lot, really.’

Glóin let out a bark of laughter. ‘It’s more than most people know. There’s this ridiculous belief that we don’t have women and that dwarves just spring up from holes in the ground.’

Kate snorted. ‘Well, you already said it was ridiculous… It doesn’t explain why you lot are so prone to fussing when it comes to my wellbeing though.’

‘That’s because there are so few of our own women,’ Balin explained, effortlessly slipping into teacher mode. It seemed to suit him somehow. ‘We’re brought up to be very careful with those we have. To lose a dwarf woman means one less woman to carry on our race.’

Kate nodded. ‘That makes sense. But just in case it escaped your notice, I am not a dwarf. I am human.’

Of which she was all too aware. Over the months it had become clear that she would always remain an outsider, as Bilbo was too. There had been no sense of belonging and she hadn’t sought it out, because it would only serve to complicate things even further and that she could do without. Things had changed when she had been kind of adopted into the Ri family, although she could not for the life of her tell if this was positive or not. It would only make it harder to say goodbye when the time came for her to leave.

‘That’s obvious.’ Kate was trying to work out whether Glóin’s comment was meant as an insult or not. ‘You’ve got far too little hair.’

Whether it was an insult or not, it vexed her. ‘I’ve got more than enough hair. It’s just all on top of my head and not anywhere else. And that suits me just fine, thank you very much.’ If her tone was a little more snappy than usual, that was purely coincidental. It had nothing to do whatsoever with Glóin’s comment, or so she told herself. ‘Anyway, I doubt you would find any other woman than your own wife even remotely attractive, so…’ She ended with a smirk, causing the dwarf in question to blush. He could go on and on about his wife and his son for hours. If he was to be believed, his wife was the best woman in existence and his son was a future warrior the likes of which the world had never seen before. Kate of course found it hard to argue with the last claim, since she had read about Gimli and knew about the things he would do in later life, but it still annoyed the crap out of her and the rest of the company as well on occasion. ‘We know she’s the most amazing woman. Her beard is lovely, her cooking is the best and she has skills all of us wished we had never heard about in the first place.’ Kíli, who was walking somewhere behind them did his best to disguise his laughter as a coughing fit, but no one was fooled.

‘You should meet her,’ Glóin insisted. ‘Then you can see it for yourself.’

Kate chuckled. ‘No need. You talk about her so often, it’s like I already know her. And your descriptions were very detailed as well, so I think I get the picture. She is slightly shorter than you, has long thick red hair that she wears in about a dozen braids, has an equally red and equally long beard that is worn in two braids. Her eyes are green and she has the most dazzling smile in the universe.’ She tilted her head. ‘Did I miss anything?’

If the dwarf knew that she was mildly mocking him, he did not show it. ‘She is the ideal woman.’

That had Kate looking at him in annoyance. ‘Really, you lot are no different from the men at home!’

‘In what way?’ Balin asked in an interested voice. He was something of a scholar, like Ori, although he could be a warrior as well if the situation asked for it. Kate got the feeling that he was more than a little curious about the world where she had come from, even if he was polite enough not to shower her with questions all the time, which she appreciated enormously.

She threw him a wry glance. ‘Well, it’s all about the way you look, right? You look like this, then you’re attractive and if you don’t, you’re not attractive.’ This irritation, she firmly told herself, had nothing to do whatsoever with Glóin’s idea that she was not attractive at all. Oh, really, who was she fooling? Somehow to her it felt like an insult, even when she knew she should not take this personally. The guy was obviously head over heels in love with his wife and dwarves did have different ideas about beauty than her race. It was a culture thing, she supposed, and yet it still vexed her. No woman liked to hear that her beauty wasn’t up to standard, she figured. ‘Apparently it doesn’t matter what race you belong to in that respect, because we still all seem to make our partner choice for a large part based on what this person looks like.’

Now it was Glóin who appeared insulted. ‘How would you select a partner then, Miss Andrews?’ Oh yes, he sounded distinctly ruffled now.

‘Well, how about based on character?’ she shot back sarcastically, ruffled too because that didn’t seem to have occurred to him. Apparently for Glóin it had been love at first sight, a concept Kate always had some problems with. How on earth could one fall in love with someone one had seen only once, knowing nothing about what that particular person was like? It seemed a bit stupid to her at least. ‘There has got to be some kind of connection with that person.’ She of course had thought she had that with Marc, until she discovered he was not as faithful as she had believed him to be. But well, her mother had made a mistake in her choice of husband, so perhaps choosing the wrong type of men was hereditary.

Glóin now stared at her as if she had done nothing less than proposing to have a picnic with elves or something equally weird. ‘But based on that description you could choose to marry an orc!’ he exclaimed in an incredulous voice.

Kate’s nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘I don’t think so, no!’ Her tone may be a little louder than she had intended, but seriously, was that dwarf insane?

It was only when Glóin spoke again that she realised he had been teasing her. ‘Why not?’ he shrugged. ‘Because of their looks?’

She favoured him with her iciest look even as Balin and Dori tried and failed to hide their amusement. And she had a feeling that Kíli’s continued coughing wasn’t entirely natural either. ‘Very funny, Glóin,’ she commented. ‘And no, I don’t think their looks have anything to do with it.’ If she was really honest, of course they had, but she was not in a hurry to tell him that after her last few statements. Hypocrite she may be on that account, but there was no reason why her friends should know about that. ‘But I think their general dislike of personal hygiene and manners do. And then there’s always the minor complication of not having met one orc who doesn’t want to run me through. Hardly the best grounds for a good relationship, don’t you think?’

That had Dori laughing. ‘True. And you’d do best to stay well away from them.’ Was it just her imagination or was there some brotherly concern in his voice? It moved her more than she knew it should be doing.

But Glóin was obviously not yet prepared to drop the subject. ‘So,’ he began with a pensive look in his eyes. ‘You would be prepared to marry an elf if you had a connection with him? If you thought you’d fit well together?’

‘Well, it’s not as simple as that, since I’m not from here,’ Kate replied. ‘But for argument’s sake let’s say I was then the answer’s yes probably, if the feeling was mutual. Not that I’m planning on getting married anytime soon,’ she added for good measure. There was an almost sly grin on Balin’s face that she did not trust at all. _Up to no good, I’ll warrant_ , as the Great Goblin would have phrased it.

And her assessment of the situation was spot on in this case, because the grin was soon followed by an inquisitive: ‘So, the same would be true for dwarves then, wouldn’t it?’ Kate found she did not like the sound of this at all.

 _What the hell are you playing at?_ He couldn’t possibly be implying what she thought he was, right? ‘Balin…’ she said in a warning voice, hoping to smother this before it could get out of hand. Really, Balin was the most sensible person around here. He least of all should believe what that big oaf of a goblin king had been saying.

Her warning did not quite have the desired effect. All it did was make him laugh. ‘You really spent too much time around Thorin, lass. You sound more like him each day.’

This triggered her own irritation. ‘And you spend entirely too much time seeing things that aren’t even there,’ she shot back. How anyone in his senses – and Balin didn’t seem completely insane to her – could see anything like that between Thorin and her was entirely beyond her. At first she had thought his protectiveness strange, contradicting his otherwise grumpy behaviour towards her. But the explanation about how dwarves treated women – no matter how annoying that attitude – had at least cleared a few things up for her. And as the leader it would make sense for Thorin to take the lead in that. Come to think of it, this could be perfectly natural. And at least the elves must have known that, even if she had not.

‘That’s enough, Balin.’ To her surprise it was Dori that spoke up. ‘Kate is uncomfortable with this subject.’

‘Not uncomfortable, annoyed,’ she corrected. ‘It’s almost as if everyone I encounter here seems to think I’m romantically involved with Thorin, even when I’m not. We’re friends of sorts, I guess, but definitely nothing more.’ _And I’ll hit the first person who tries to tell me otherwise._

‘Friends?’ Dori’s eyebrows were halfway his forehead and it didn’t look like that was in a good way. ‘He’s done nothing but snap at you since you arrived.’ Oh, this was definitely brotherly concern coming into play. The journalist recognised it when she saw it. Jacko had once done the exact same thing when he did not approve of one of her new friends. The annoying thing was that he had been right.

Kate shrugged. ‘Well, he can’t go on ignoring me, not if he doesn’t want Gandalf to blast his head off. We figured we might as well try and act civil. No big deal.’

Dori clearly thought differently and was visibly just about to voice that opinion when the first howling of overgrown wolves filled the air. And Kate felt a shiver go down her spine.

 

***

 

Thorin kept to the head of the column at first, but had soon to accept that he actually had no idea where he was going. He had never been here before – he had never needed to be here before – but the wizard clearly knew what he was doing. So the dwarf king let Gandalf lead the way. He would have that fight over who was the leader here later. Now clearly was not the time for it.

He had let himself fall back next to Dwalin, who kept his silence. The warrior had never been a man of many words and he seemed to sense that Thorin was in no real mood to talk today. The silence therefore wasn’t awkward, but friendly and in a strange way even reassuring. It really was good to have a friend like this.

And Thorin had a lot to keep his mind occupied. Kate had warned him, discreetly, that there would all too soon be goblins on their trail again and he tended to believe her. They kept up a steady pace. It was slower than what he would have liked, but after a two day long flight through Goblin-town – had it really been that long? – and with several of their number injured, he knew he could not ask any more of them. They were already giving it all they could.

Nevertheless the mood was a cheerful one. Bofur had started whistling again, all kinds of songs, varying from battle ones to songs of a nature that made him glad no one was singing the words out loud. The younger ones were joking and Miss Andrews – no, Kate, he had to remember to call her Kate from now on – had joined Dori, Balin and Glóin and the four of them seemed quite caught up in one discussion or another that had the company advisor extremely annoyed. He had seen the expression more than enough to recognise it when he chanced upon it.

Thorin could not even bring himself to begrudge them their feelings of triumph, not when he felt at least remotely pleased with himself for escaping Goblin-town. His entire company had come out alive, not unscathed, but alive. That was something to be proud of, especially when one took into account how close they had been to certain death in there.

But they were not just out of the woods yet – literally in this case – he was all too aware of that and therefore he kept glancing over his shoulder and up to the sky. Dwarves were not creatures that lived on the surface as a rule, even though they had not much choice in the matter during their exile. They preferred the underground halls of their people and many of them saw the light of torches much more than they saw the light of the sun. And maybe Thorin had been in exile too long, but the underground tunnels of the goblins had frightened him in a way and he had quickly come to regard the light of day a dear friend. But admittedly, it was not a very reliable friend. It raced across the sky faster than Thorin would have liked. The shadows were lengthening and it would not be long before the sun would disappear behind the mountains and dusk would start to fall.

They would need to press on by the light of the moon. This area wasn’t safe for camping anyway, since Gandalf had said that the goblins liked to come out here after dark to stir up trouble. Well, no real surprise there anyway.

Fortunately everyone, despite their happy chatter, seemed to understand this without Thorin having to spell it out for them. And thank Mahal for the endurance of dwarves. They were hardy folk by nature, but the exile had brought out the best in them. In that way only it had been good for them to be away from Erebor. These dwarves knew what it took to survive. He’d bet all the gold in Erebor that Dáin’s people would not be able to keep this up. It made him proud of his own men.

Thorin had been expecting trouble and trouble was what he got. The last rays of sunlight had hardly vanished behind the mountain before the first howling echoed through the woods. That stopped the company dead in its tracks, heads swivelling in the direction whence the noise had come.

‘Those are not wolves,’ Kate stated.

‘Wargs!’ he spat. The advisor had been right, no matter how much he hated that. ‘Out of the frying pan…’

‘… And into the fire,’ the wizard helpfully finished. ‘Up the trees, quick!’

Thorin rounded on him. ‘We should run.’

Gandalf may be in a mental state of near panic, but when his decision were called into question, he was quick to react, that was for certain. ‘Well, Thorin Oakenshield, if you would like to try and outrun a pack of wargs, you are more than welcome to try it and we will gather your remains in the morning! If you want to live, you will do as I say!’

Oh, they would have a discussion about this later, Thorin was sure. There was no way that wizard was going to get away with this, but right now he had to admit that those wargs did sound awfully close. There was not much choice in the matter anyway and so he nodded his approval of the plan. At least one thing could be said about his company: they did not obey Gandalf’s order until Thorin had approved of it.

Dwarves weren’t natural tree-climbers – that was an elvish thing to be doing after all – and they didn’t find it easy to haul himself up. But everyone was desperate enough not to get eaten by overgrown wolves and in hindsight it surprised Thorin how easily every single dwarf seemed to be capable of getting himself to safety. He himself waited until nearly everyone was off the ground in case they needed help. He was the leader after all and he would not be seen fleeing into a tree as your average coward before everyone else was safe.

‘Come up, will you?’ someone hissed down at him as he watched Dori help Bilbo up a tree. ‘Unless you fancy being turned into a dog’s dinner of course, in which case you are welcome to stay where you are.’ The voice, belonging to his new friend, was almost right above him and when he looked up he saw the advisor standing on a low branch.

Bifur, Bofur and Bombur had sought refuge in the same tree, but it would seem there was still room for another occupant. This tree was a strong pine, made to endure. It had to be if it were to survive Bombur’s body weight, Thorin pondered.

He gave a curt nod and began climbing up the tree. ‘Get higher,’ he ordered Kate. ‘As high up as you can.’

‘Good thing I’m not afraid of heights then,’ she muttered, but she obeyed him nonetheless. If that was another fruit of their newfound friendship, this not questioning his every order, then Thorin was grateful for it. He would of course never admit this when called on, but he was afraid. It was not that the fact that Kate’s knowledge had the frightening tendency of coming true that scared him now, it was not knowing what was going to happen, not knowing if they would make it out alive again. He knew he was hoping for it, but he also knew that only Kate held the real answer.

 _Since when have you desired to know what she does?_ his brain questioned as he climbed even higher. He had never wanted to know and he should not be starting to wish for it now. It was too dangerous. It would only undermine his determination to go any further all over again. And that was not an option. The way they worked now, with Kate having the knowledge and Thorin having the determination, that was a good one. That functioned, or at least it would when they would finally do this right.

Nevertheless, the not knowing was torture. The book may hold information Thorin would not like, but it might also reassure him on quite a few other accounts. And he found that he needed that. He needed to know that he had not just led his company into mortal peril.

‘You okay?’ came Kate’s voice from a neighbouring branch.

He gave her a curt nod, not entirely sure why she would suddenly ask after his wellbeing when she had not been known to do such a thing before today. It would be the whole friends business, he supposed, but it still sounded off to him. ‘You?’

‘Oh, just the usual,’ came the sarcastic reply. ‘Chased by goblins, annoyed by dwarves and chased up a tree by wargs. Just another normal day in the lives of the companions of Thorin Oakenshield, I’d wager.’ If he had not seen the wry grin accompanying the words he might have believed her to be mocking him. But she was merely joking, even if the joke came too close to the actual truth for Thorin’s liking. They really did fall from one crisis straight into the next.

There were wargs entering the glade below them now and Thorin beckoned for her to be silent. It would not buy them much time, since these monsters were very skilled in sniffing out even the tiniest mouse and they were a good deal larger than your average mouse, but the longer they went unnoticed, the better it was for all of them.

He hardly dared to breathe, had completely willed himself to be as still as stone. Kate had given him one glance and had then tried to copy the action. The light was fading rapidly, but the moon had come out and that gave them light to see by, enough light to see that Kate’s face was rather pale. No, she was not afraid of heights, but she sure was afraid of wargs. If he took her latest encounter with the horrible monsters into account he could not really blame her for feeling that way too. It had been too close then already.

And he had been right about his prediction that the wargs would soon sniff them out. It didn’t take them long at all and Kate’s face turned even paler as three of them sat down at the bottom of their tree, as if to guard it.

‘They cannot climb the trees,’ Thorin informed her, trying to sound something that approached reassuring, but quite sure that it was not anything even remotely like it.

‘I know.’ The reply seemed to be coming from between clenched teeth. ‘It’s in the bloody book.’

He fixed her with his most demanding stare. ‘This is in your book?’

He got a curt tentative nod out of her this time. ‘Hell, yes.’

‘What else does it say?’ Thorin needed to know, needed to know whether they would make it out alive. And they were friends now as well as allies, so they might as well start their cooperation right away.

And at least this seemed to force the advisor’s mind on different matters than just the looming threat under the tree. Her jaw set – a tell-tale sign that she was thinking – and she nodded. ‘Well, right now events seem to be following the book, which means that this place will be crawling with wargs and goblins as well before long. Gandalf will throw burning pine-cones at them and those stupid beasts down there will set the forest alight in their attempt to get to the water in time. And then the goblins come laughing at us while our trees are burning and we’ll all get nearly suffocated before the eagles come and recue us.’ A smile was thrown his way, even if it was more bravado than an actual smile. ‘Feeling reassured already?’

He fixed her with as stern a look as he could manage, telling her that this was not the time to joke. His inside felt like it had been turned to ice, despite the mild summer weather. ‘You cannot give in to your fear,’ he told her sternly.

It was probably not the kind of thing a real friend would say, but he had never been good at reassuring people. Even Dís had once scolded him once for frightening her sons when he had been meant to reassure them. It had been a stormy night and the lads had still been small. Kíli, afraid of the thunder, had come running to him, telling him that he was so scared that the lightning would hit the house. Thorin, having meant to put the boy at ease, had replied the lightning missed most of the time, only to be confronted with a crying Kíli and an angry Dís, who had whacked him over the head with a ladle for frightening her son. Apparently he should have said that the lightning could never hit him. When Thorin had felt obliged to point out that this would have been a lie, she had just hit him again.

Fortunately Kate was no young Kíli and she nodded instead of running away in tears. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘And let’s look on the bright side. At least there’s no Azog.’

That got her Thorin’s undivided attention. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The other version,’ she clarified. ‘In the other version it’s not the goblins that come, but Azog and his merry orcs. According to that version there are still wargs, forest fire and eagles, only then you are stupid enough to go out and face Azog, which of course goes terribly wrong. And for some stupid reason the trees we’re in are on the edge of some bloody cliff and some of us almost fall to their deaths while the rest of us are fighting orcs. Does _that_ sound reassuring to you?’

 _In a way_. At least there had been no mention of fighting in the book version. ‘Why would I be so reckless as to go out and fight the Defiler?’ he demanded of her. He had been meaning to merely think it, but it came out of his mouth anyway. Oh, he wanted to finish the Defiler badly, but not at the cost of his life or those of his companions.

Kate grimaced. ‘To look like some kind of action hero?’ she ventured. She became serious again. ‘He shouted some kind of insult at you. I’m not exactly sure what about, but safe to say that it was less than complimentary.’

It made sense. It made an awful lot of sense. Thorin knew himself. He was proud and easily angered. And Azog was already an old enemy of his. Up here, with no Pale Orc in sight, it was easy to say that rushing out to fight him was a reckless and foolish thing to be doing, but his resolve might just waver the moment he laid eyes on the monster.

‘He will hunt you too,’ Thorin told the advisor.

She looked down and paled as she saw how many wargs, and now goblins as well, had filled the glade below since last she looked. ‘Just to stay on the cheerful topics, you mean. And haven’t we gone over this before? I know.’

 _You do not know what it will be like_. She may have her books, but she had no idea what it was like to be caught up in such a feud. She had led such a sheltered life, never having been caught up in a fight save for a street robbery before Gandalf had spirited her away from everything she knew. How could she know?

He only realised he had spoken out loud when he found himself on the receiving end of her most disapproving stare. ‘I may not be from this world, Thorin with the bloody oaken shield, but I am no fool either. If Azog gets his dirty hands on me, I’m dead. And he’s unlikely to make it an easy passing.’ Her tone was angry, but there was an underlying tone of deep-rooted fear to be heard as well.

And Thorin felt like slamming his head against the tree for giving the Great Goblin the wrong impression about them. He had led a friend into the worst trouble imaginable, even when they had not yet been friends when said misunderstanding had occurred. It was now his responsibility to make sure that she would survive, no one else’s, not even her new brothers’. It was an honour thing, he supposed, and therefore more important than Kate would probably ever understand. ‘I will do whatever I can to prevent that from happening,’ he vowed.

Kate snorted and misinterpreted. ‘Please, save me from that oh-she’s-a-fragile-woman-so-she-needs-twenty-four-hour-supervision crap. I’ve had quite enough of that for one day, thank you very much. Let’s focus on getting out of here first, shall we?’

He was about to explain that things were not like that, even if it was indeed a part of it, when something else got his attention. Some blue light sailed past their tree and he swivelled his head around to see what it was.

He was just in time to see something that looked like a projectile blazed in blue fire land on the back of one of the wargs, instantly lighting up the beast. _Gandalf will throw burning pine-cones at them and those stupid beasts down there will set the forest alight in their attempt to get to the water in time._ Kate’s words echoed in his head.

‘Bloody wizard,’ he heard her mutter. ‘Surely he must know that this will set the whole sodding forest on fire? He knows the book as well as I do!’

‘He has never acted on it before,’ Thorin muttered sourly. And come to think of it, that was strange, very strange. Had that wizard just admitted that he knew everything, then they had never needed Kate in the first place.

But now was not the time to ponder the wizard’s strange behaviour, because said wizard had launched into an full-out burning pine-cone attack from up his tree. It sent the wargs and the occasional goblin screaming, yelping and running in search of water to put out the flames. Even though Thorin knew it was exactly as Kate had told him it would be, there was something very scary about seeing it happen right before his very eyes. He could see the wargs run away, rolling on the ground, spreading the fire as they went. And this forest was dry, too dry. It was almost too easy for the trees to catch fire. Their own tree was safe for now, but two of the other ones holding dwarves were not. Thorin could feel his fists clench in frustration. He had felt powerless before, back in Goblin-town, back when the goblins had been about to finish him off, but this was worse. Would he really be forced to watch while his companions burned to death?

Because that was a real possibility. He could not even recall how many times Kate had emphasised that the real events did not always follow the story as she knew it. The real events could all too easily turn out far worse than her story would have them believe.

And over the crackling of the fire, he could hear the goblins’ laughter. They rejoiced in their suffering, relished the chance to see them burn. And, Mahal save them all, were they even singing?

 

_‘Sixteen birds in five fir-trees,_

_their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze!_

_But, funny little birds, they had no wings!_

_O what shall we do with the funny little things?_

_Roast ‘em alive, or stew them in a pot;_

_Fry them, boil them and eat them hot?’_

 

The song was hardly melody, hardly singing at all, and yet it was frightening, if only because the goblins were so obviously unafraid of the inferno that was developing here. They even seemed to enjoy it. That was the real frightening thing and if it was already so for the dwarf king who didn’t scare easily, then it must be worse for the advisor.

Kate looked at him, pure terror obvious in her eyes. The song frightened her, he could tell. And there was a feeling of dread settling in his own stomach as well, trying to overwhelm him if he gave it as much as half a chance. But he would not do that. He was a leader and it had been drilled into his head since early childhood that he could not show fear, not ever.

But humour he could do. If there was one thing he had learned from the advisor’s presence, it would be that humour was a wonderful way to keep up the morale. It had turned out that it was as much needed as their swords and other weapons. It might be just what they needed now.

‘They’re serenading us, it would seem,’ Thorin pointed out. The tone was not as light-hearted as he would have liked, but it would have to do.

But he had gotten his message across, because Kate shot him an incredulous look. ‘You. Cannot. Be. Serious!’ Oh yes, she definitely knew what he was talking about and if her reaction was any indication, she also knew what he was asking of her here.

He favoured her with his sternest look. ‘You cannot give in to your fear,’ he reminded her. ‘They want you to.’ These words had worked well enough in Goblin-town and he prayed they would again. The last thing they could use was for the advisor to lose her nerve.

But he needn’t have worried about that. His reminder had the desired effect. In the light of the burning fires Thorin could see the defiant spark reappear in Kate’s eyes and the set jaw to go with it. ‘So now what?’ she demanded. ‘Do you now propose we give them a taste of their own medicine?’

Thorin raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Unless you’d rather cower away in this tree and do nothing,’ he countered.

Kate’s face was still pale, but she nodded. He recognised this expression as one of deep thinking. But the thinking dragged on and for a moment he started to worry that her fear had clouded her thoughts, but then a hesitant smile appeared on her face and she threw the goblins’ own song, albeit sounding more like song this time and with slightly different words, right back at them:

 

_‘Dozens of rats and dogs down in the glade,_

_Why will they not run before it’s too late?_

_Stupid little things do not know that fire burns hot,_

_O what shall we do with this sorry lot?_

_Sit up here and watch as they all burn;_

_Or see them run squealing at every turn?’_

 

And she had a good point with that as well, because one would say that the goblins and the wargs were actually in more danger of getting burned than the company was. Some of them were already burning, while three of the five trees that the dwarves had hidden in were still blessedly free of fire, although Thorin did not honestly expect that to last long. But for the moment it gave him hope to see that his men still were mostly safe. The dwarves that had been hiding in the burning trees were quickly jumping into neighbouring trees, extracting furious howls from the goblins when they realised that no dwarf was going to be cooked in near future.

Someone, possibly Gandalf, was shouting insult at the goblins as well, enraging them even further. Thorin could not make out the exact words from where he sat, not with the crackling of the fire and the howling of goblins and wargs drowning out every other sound, but there was no mistaking that taunting tone.

And insulting them was the only thing they could do right now. Strangely enough it helped the dwarf king enormously. It made him feel not completely useless, although he would admit right away that probably it would have been more dignified if he had just sat there sending glares at the goblins. But he could not really care anymore. This, it made him feel even slightly triumphant. And it was even better because the goblins were unable to reach them.

But his feeling of triumph was short-lived. More howling filled the air, drawing Thorin’s gaze to the nearby hill from where the sound had come. His hopes sank as he realised that the goblins had gotten reinforcements. The smoke caused by the fire was making it hard to see anything at all, but Thorin would have recognised the leader of the orcs anywhere. There, in front of his troops, was a Pale Orc, astride a white warg. The Defiler had come.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Murphy’s Law in action for you: when in a crisis do not let the real events just follow book or movie. No, please, just let’s follow them_ both _!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it for today. I'm not that good at rhyming at all, so I hope I didn't make too much of a mess of it. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. And the chapter title is taken from the album of Christy Moore. It just seemed appropriate for this chapter.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please comment if you have a moment?


	24. Hatred

_I think that at that point I had honestly managed to talk myself into believing that the events were really only going to follow the book. They seemed to have done so, at least where this crisis was concerned, and I think I had really wanted to believe it too. The book events were slightly less dangerous than the movie events I had come to learn, maybe because there happened to be a lot of action in the movie which was not there in the book._

_Now, I am not quite sure when exactly I had started to tell myself that getting caught up in a tree in a burning forest was not so dangerous at all, but it wasn’t. I don’t know if any of you have ever found yourselves in a similar situation – and no, Thráin, Jack, I do not really want to know the answer to that question. I’m not sure my heart can take it – but if you have, you should know that it is not exactly a walk in the park. Things had been bad enough already when it had only been the goblins and the wargs threatening us, but when I finally got to see Azog the Defiler with my own eyes, I think my blood just turned to ice…_

For a moment he was frozen into place, just staring at his sworn enemy as he in turn took in the scene from atop his warg, that was as pale as the monster that rode it. The Defiler had hardly changed at all. The only real change was the iron claw that had replaced the arm Thorin had hacked off at the battle of Azanulbizar.

‘It can’t be,’ he whispered.

Next to him he could hear Kate let out a muttered curse. ‘Damn it,’ she growled. ‘Bloody movie.’

Thorin recalled her saying that Azog only had shown up in the movie version of her story, even if he for the life of him still couldn’t tell what a movie actually was. He had come to learn that at least it was vastly different from the book she was still carrying around at some points, and, as he realised just now, far more dangerous too.

He gripped the branch he was holding in some kind of death grip and tried to control his breathing. According to Kate he would run off and confront Azog in an attempt to look like what she called some kind of action hero. And he wanted to. Mahal knew he wanted to climb out of this tree here and now to put an end to the orc that had taken his grandfather from him, to end what he had begun at Azanulbizar.

But none of them would be helped with that. Kate had also mentioned eagles, that would come to get them out of here. If only they could hold out long enough. If only the fire did not reach their tree before help could come, then they would all be fine, but oh Mahal, did he want to go and end the Defiler.

‘How long?’ he growled at Kate, eyes still fixed on Azog, hands gripping the tree so strongly as if it was the only thing keeping him in place. He wasn’t even sure that wasn’t the case. ‘How long until the eagles arrive?’

He only found himself on the receiving end of Kate’s most angry stare. ‘I am your advisor, Thorin bloody Oakenshield,’ she hissed in a furious voice. ‘Not Mystic Meg! I don’t bloody know!’ She was angry, true enough, but Thorin had been in her company long enough to know when she was scared as well. Kate tended to lash out at people, shouted to mask the fear and frustration she felt and started to use the word bloody a lot more than would have been necessary. ‘The book doesn’t exactly give me a minute-to-minute account of the events. It’s meant as a children’s adventure story, not a guideline for the actual quest!’

It was a good thing this tree was so old and strong. A younger, weaker tree would have been reduced to splinters by now due to the pressure Thorin put on it. Azog and his troops descended to the clearing, making the already present wargs and goblins nervous as well it would seem.

And Azog was definitely in charge here. The growling voice that made Thorin both shiver in fear and tremble in almost uncontrollable anger issued a few commands and then the goblins and wargs started to retreat. They weren’t doing so willingly, but it was clear that they didn’t fancy taking their chances against what appeared to be a small army of orcs and wargs that was clearly highly trained.

‘What are they saying?’ Kate asked in a hushed voice.

‘He’s ordering them to leave,’ Thorin reported. He would never admit this when called on it, but her question was the perfect distraction from Azog. Without it he would probably have launched himself out of this pine tree already, determined to kill that orc and to hell with the consequences. The need for vengeance sang in his blood as strong as that day at Azanulbizar. Only Kate’s warning that things would end badly if he acted upon this feeling held him back now and he did not know how much longer that would be of any use either. But there was also the quest he could not abandon. It _had_ to be more important than this burning desire - no, _need_ was the word – to put an end to the Pale Orc. ‘He is telling them that by rights of his blood feud with my kin we belong to him.’

Kate frowned at him. ‘You understand what he is saying?’ There was some surprise audible in her voice, making Thorin realise that she had not really been expecting an answer out of him. She had just wanted to know what was going on, frustrated that she had no way of knowing because of the orcs using their own foul language.

‘I understand their tongue,’ Thorin replied curtly. He had not been keen to learn it, but his grandfather had insisted on it, stressing that in a battle situation it could be of vital importance to understand what your enemy was saying and so a much younger Thorin had submitted himself to learning to understand the foul language of the orcs. Their tongue was a harsh one, a tongue that made even the most innocent words sound like a curse. He had never learned to speak it himself, although he might be able to pull it off if a situation asked for it, but he understood what was being said and that gave him some kind of advantage over his enemies, because they did not speak his language. ‘My grandfather made me learn it, long ago.’ Before he was murdered by that monster that now stood in the middle of the glade. If only he had a bow, he could end this here and now.

But he did not have a bow and the Defiler was alive, sitting on his warg as if he was the laughing winner already. And he might even have reason to believe that he was. After all the dwarves were holed up in trees, with nowhere to go. They might well burn to death as soon as the fire reached their hiding places. And there was no way of knowing when, or even if, the eagles would come to their rescue. And Thorin could not just sit here and wait for death to come and claim him. He had stood up against Azog before in an equally threatening situation and he would not exit this life holed up in some tree like your average coward. He was better than that.

The last goblins had left the clearing. Thorin would bet that they would still hang back and wait to see what would happen now, hoping for the chance to get their hands on at least one dwarf they could torture and kill by way of avenging their dead king. But if they were, Thorin could not see them. The clearing was entirely filled with orcs and wargs that were clearly a part of Azog’s army.

The Defiler leaned forward over his mount, almost stroking the white fur with the iron claw that now replaced his hand. Thorin could have sworn that his old enemy was looking straight at him, but with all the smoke and the little light there was, it was hard to know for certain. He could have been looking at something else entirely. Not that Thorin believed that to be likely. Ten to one that Azog knew exactly where Thorin was. He had seemed to have known that all the time and once again he recalled Kate’s words back in Rivendell. _And while we cannot imagine someone talking to the enemy, I think you’ll have to agree that_ someone _must have been spilling the beans. I don’t think they just happened to come across our trail._ The longer he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed to become that someone Thorin had trusted was not that trustworthy after all. The thought made him want to throw up.

‘ _Do you smell it_?’ Azog rumbled in the foul tongue of the orcs. The words were probably spoken to his army, but Thorin could feel a shiver go down his spine. Last time he had heard that voice it had been howling in pain after he had hacked the orc’s arm off. It didn’t sound so dangerous then. Now it was. ‘ _The scent of fear_.’ Azog’s face twisted in a positively terrifying grin.

That might hold true for the company advisor, who had gone extremely pale, gripping the nearest branch to her as if it was the only thing that kept her alive. There might be some truth in that, because Thorin was almost certain she would just fall out of the tree the moment she let go. And with all those wargs and orcs down there that was unlikely to be an experience she was going to survive. At the moment the rest of his companions were not in a much better shape. Bombur looked a bit peaky and Bofur’s face missed the usual grin. There were not many he could see from where he sat; the smoke obscured his vision, but he could see Ori in a neighbouring tree, looking as if he might faint any second now.

But Thorin did not feel fear. It was rage that was coursing through his veins, fed by his own sense of frustration that he seemed to be incapable of protecting his men time and again, depending on others to get them out of a tight spot. That was not the kind of king Thorin wanted to be. He had been taught to be in the front lines, to take all the risks he also asked his people to take. It was his duty to protect them best he could. It was also a duty he had failed in so many times. He had not been able to save his people from the dragon. He had seen so many of his kin die at Azanulbizar and he had not been able to do one single thing to stop that horror from happening. His people had been scorned and looked down upon, not only by other races, but even by other dwarves. The guilt for all this weighed heavily upon Thorin and now it mingled with the rage he felt over Azog’s very alive presence here in the clearing.

‘Something in the way you’re looking tells me he wasn’t telling you that you were looking good after all this time,’ Kate commented. She was still very pale, but she managed to conjure up a wry grin that she sent in Thorin’s direction.

Mahal be praised for humour and irony. He was not entirely sure what he would have done without it. Most likely he would already be torn to bits by Azog’s vile pets. For now her comment kept him in place, prevented him from acting on his feelings to jump down and make Azog pay in kind for the crimes he had committed.

Azog’s cold and unfeeling eyes turned towards their tree now, after having looked at the others, probably establishing that most of the dwarves – but the hobbit most definitely – were scared out of their wits. ‘ _I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thráin_.’ Azog held Thorin’s gaze with his own as he said that, an evil smirk passing over the orc’s scarred face.

Something snapped inside Thorin. Next to Thorin the branch he was holding also snapped under the force of his anger. But he could not help it. His father’s death was a sore point for him. It always had been and it was unlikely to change anytime soon. _Thráin, Thorin’s father, went mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know_. That was what Balin had told the hobbit that night Thorin had his fight with the company advisor on the cliff. And until this day Thráin’s fate had never been cleared up. Most supposed that he had died after some time had passed and they were still unable to find him. But his body had never been found. But that wasn’t saying anything. There had been so many killed that day and many of them had never been identified. Thorin himself had seen the bodies. Many of them had been maimed so badly that not even their own mothers would be able to name them.

Thorin had allowed himself to believe that his father had been among them, that he had died honourably in battle, in spite of his grief. It was a better alternative than Thráin having been taken prisoner by the orcs, or dying a lonely death out there somewhere like a snivelling lunatic. It was a better option, but it was not what had happened.

Thorin could not even bring himself to doubt the Defiler’s words. He had seen too many liars over the years and Azog may be many things, but he was not a liar. Azog was proud of what he had done and he thoroughly enjoyed the anger the son of his victim was experiencing. His gloating words had been a challenge and the dwarf could not let it go unanswered any longer.

Thorin’s blood was boiling, rage filling him up from his head to his toes and he did not even fight it back anymore. He allowed it to take over, let the feeling wash over him until there was no room left for anything else to be felt.

He had not been quite aware of the fact that his body was descending down the tree of its own volition, until a hand grabbed him at the fur that lined his coat. ‘What on earth do you think you’re _doing_?’ a furious voice hissed. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’

Thorin glared at the company advisor. ‘Ending him,’ he replied curtly.

Whatever she thought about his intelligence, this answer seemed to confirm it for her. ‘Have you not listened to a single word I said?’ she demanded. ‘If you do that, things will end badly for you. You’ll be leading all of us straight into danger. Stay. Here!’ she added as he decided to ignore her and move down despite her protests.

And how could she possibly understand what was happening here? She had no idea what this feud was like, what Azog had done to Thorin’s family. She was as naïve as a new-born babe in that respect. ‘You do not know what it is that he was talking about,’ Thorin told her in as condescending a voice as he could manage. He would not go back on his offer of friendship, but it was well known that even friends quarrelled from time to time. And Miss Andrews was asking for it.

She tried to pull him back, which was just as much use as when she would have been pulling at a great rock. ‘No, I don’t,’ she admitted. The words seemed to be coming from between clenched teeth. For the moment at least her fear had disappeared. ‘But something tells me it wasn’t exactly a compliment. He’s trying to lure you out of this damned tree, you hairy buffoon! And right now, you are giving him exactly what he wants!’

If she thought that this was going to do the trick, then she was sorely mistaken. Because Thorin might be giving Azog what he wanted, but he would also give himself what he needed. That monster had taken his grandfather and father from him, all in the span of one single day. And indirectly he could also be blamed for the death of every other dwarf that day, including Thorin’s own brother. He could not just sit here and wait to be rescued and let this miserable creature get away with mass murder. This wasn’t just personal revenge anymore – even if that was a large part of it admittedly – this was about protecting his people from harm.

‘Get your hands off my person, Miss Andrews,’ he ordered the advisor. ‘You would do well to remember your place in this company.’

Something flashed in her eyes, hurt maybe, or anger. Thorin could not be certain and it was gone before he could really get a closer look. But at least she released his coat from her grasp, only to immediately hit him full force across the face. This time he actually felt a stinging, burning sensation on his left cheek, for one moment leaving him stare at the advisor as he tried to understand what it was that she had just done. That gave Kate the opportunity to strike again, leaving him with a tender right cheek as well.

He grabbed her hand before she could strike again, as she was so clearly intending to do. ‘What are you doing?’ he growled at her.

‘Knocking some sense back into that thick skull of yours,’ the advisor countered. ‘Not that there was much to begin with anyway.’

His anger was already burning and her actions and words only made that flame burn brighter and higher. ‘It is not your place!’ he snarled at her.

‘Yes, it is!’ she reacted. ‘Gandalf brought me here so I could change things, remember? Well, like it or not, but I am not about to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you go along and run straight off into the danger that I know to be there when I can stop it!’ Her voice rose with every word she spoke. ‘And you’re my friend, remember? And excuse me, but I am not in the habit of letting my friends run off while I know this will end badly for them. What kind of a friend would that make of me?’

That gave him pause, long enough to look at her, really look at her, and see that she was still scared. But the fear was not because of Azog right now it would seem. The advisor was afraid for _him_. And that was a whole new experience for Thorin. He could not even remember the last time someone had been worrying about his personal wellbeing. Oh, people worried for his wellbeing all the time, but that had more to do with the fact that he was the king than with Thorin as a person. Their worry never was something even approaching personal and their concerns were in essence selfish. People wondered what would become of them if their king died. Kate was worried as a friend, worrying about the effects on him, which was a novelty, at least outside the family circle, because Balin and Dwalin counted as kin in Thorin’s opinion. He could not for the life of him remember if anyone else had ever acted in such a fashion, but he didn’t think so.

The anger was still there, urging him to go down and put an end to Azog’s cruel deeds right here and now, but a small voice of reason told him that this also would be a suicide mission. The place was crawling with orcs and wargs. He would be torn to pieces before he could get even close to his archenemy.

His breathing was heavy and he had to fight hard against the disappointment that was trying its hardest to overwhelm him now that he could not do what he so desperately wanted to do. But it was a fool’s errand and he knew it. And he could not, would not, risk the entire quest for personal vengeance. He had a mission and nothing should stop him from achieving the intended goal. It was a small consolation, but the reclaiming of Erebor would enrage Azog more than anything. Maybe that was to be his revenge, to achieve the thing Azog would hate most.

He hauled himself back up on the branch, favouring Kate with his sternest look. ‘You will not hit me again,’ he told her. It wasn’t a real threat, since he wasn’t sure what to threaten her with, but she understood it all the same.

It was only when his gaze involuntary wandered back to Azog that he realised that the Defiler had followed this encounter with interest. His stare was no longer fixed on Thorin now. It had settled on the company advisor and Thorin did not like the look he was giving her at all. There was cruelty there, and even joy, as if he had just discovered this Thorin’s greatest weakness.

And maybe he had, because his new friend was absolutely horrible at fighting. Most of the company were not fighters by nature, but they at least knew how to defend themselves in case of an attack. Kate had no such skills.

Azog’s eyes never even left Thorin and Kate as he spoke his next threat. ‘ _If they will not come down to us, we must make them_.’ The grin was so triumphant it was as if he had won already. ‘ _Cut down the trees! Kill them all, but bring those two to me_.’ His iron claw pointed at king and advisor. ‘ _They are mine to end_.’

‘No.’ It was more of a defiance than an actual denial of the situation. That would not make sense, because Thorin already knew that this monster had no limits when it came to getting what he wanted.

‘Something tells me he wasn’t inviting us over for tea.’ Kate tried to keep up the bravado, but she didn’t fool Thorin. The fear and tremor in her voice were both too obvious to miss.

‘He’s ordered to cut down the trees.’ Thorin’s reply came from between clenched teeth.

And he was not going to sit here and let that happen. He had a duty to protect his people, and cowering up in a tree while Azog was going to kill them all by crashing them to the ground, that wasn’t part of what Kate would call the job description.

The anger took over again and he gladly let it. Suicide mission or not, he would have to do this, if only to give his men a chance at survival. There was just no telling when or even if those eagles would come. They simply could not afford to wait and hope and pray that everything would work out.

‘Stay here,’ he ordered Kate.

She had been distracted by her own fear, but now the suspicious look was back in full force. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. The way she spoke would make one think that she was the one in charge and Thorin was a disobedient soldier.

He glared at her, furious that she seemed incapable of understanding what needed to be done. ‘I cannot sit idly by and watch my men be slaughtered,’ he snapped at her. And if he could succeed in killing Azog for real this time, that was just an added bonus, but it was not the main focus, not anymore. The moment he had realised he had a duty to his company, his people, he had also accepted that his personal vengeance would have to wait, as much as he hated that. ‘Stay here as long as you can.’

He had seen Azog look at her as if she was going to be his next meal, not something that was entirely out of the question when there were orcs involved. He didn’t think it likely, but it was always possible that the goblins’ assumptions about Thorin and Kate being married had already reached Azog’s ears. In that case she would even be in more danger and because of her inability to effectively protect herself, she would do well to stay as far away from the Defiler as she possibly could.

Kate looked at him with something that seemed to be a mixture of admiration, worry and terror, but in the end she nodded. ‘Just try not to get yourself killed, will you?’

The flippancy worked for him and he managed to conjure up something of a wry smile. ‘Do not make me believe you would not be glad to be rid of me.’

Kate snorted. ‘Who would I argue with if not you?’ she countered.

Who indeed. But somehow it felt good to have someone worrying over him. He gave the advisor a curt nod and descended the tree to do what was needed.

 

***

 

‘Stay here.’

It was Thorin’s best commander tone that broke through the haze of fear that had been threatening to overwhelm here, making her feel dizzy and unbalanced. She had no way of understanding what that Pale Orc was saying, but the very words sounded harsh and altogether evil. Azog’s piercing look, filled with triumph, made her want to throw up on the spot, although she was pretty certain that that would not do her any favours either. There was something cruel in the Defiler’s eyes and Kate was one hundred percent sure that this look would haunt her nightmares for weeks and months to come, if she lived long enough to have any, that was.

But right now her main concern was Thorin, who seemed to have gotten it into his head that he should go down to do God knows what to their attackers, even when they had just established that this would be a suicide mission to be sure. He could not really be serious about this, right?

‘What are you doing?’ she exclaimed. Clearly she had underestimated Thorin’s desire for vengeance. He had accused her that she could not understand what he was feeling and in a way he was right. Kate had never been in such a situation and she sincerely hoped she would never be either. But she could see how passionate Thorin was about this. The moment he had heard the Defiler’s insult, whatever it was that he had been saying to provoke the dwarf king, it had seemed to the company advisor as if he had become another person altogether. She hardly recognised the vengeful, cold man that had snarled at her and called her Miss Andrews as if that conversation earlier that day had never even happened. This anger, this hatred, it ran deep and was by all accounts stronger than Kate had even believed possible.

But she had believed that she had talked reason into him, that she had somehow averted the danger her new friend was about to dive into headfirst. Something that she had done or said had made him see reason. Or so she had thought.

‘I cannot sit idly by and watch my men be slaughtered!’ Thorin’s expression spoke volumes. There was anger in his eyes again, ice-cold steel that made it clear to Kate that she had misinterpreted the situation entirely. This had nothing to do with vengeance. This was about protecting his people, his company.

And it made her fall silent. She had believed that she had some idea of who this dwarf was, in spite of his unreadable expressions and contradictory behaviour. Just now she had believed him capable of putting everything on the line for the sake of personal revenge, even whilst knowing that he would only run towards his own end. But that was the picture the movie had provided her with: Thorin storming at Azog to kill him for taking his father and grandfather from him.

But this, this was completely different. This was about fighting to draw the orcs’ attention away from the others. It was about buying time for all of them. It was still suicidal and still reckless, but yet it was completely different. His motivations were as noble as Kate had never seen before and she could not help but admire him for it. Running off into danger knowing you were unlikely to come out of it alive, never mind unscathed, that was a total foreign concept where she came from.

There were protests dying to come out, but they died on her lips. Holding him back from this would be as foolish as it would be fruitless. Thorin’s mind was made up and if he were to come out of this alive after all, he would never ever forgive her for trying to prevent him from doing what he believed to be his duty.

Thorin ordered her to stay where she was as long as she safely could do so and with a few quips, that hardly registered in Kate’s mind, since she was far too busy trying to understand this enigma of a dwarf, he left her.

The orcs had already taken out their axes to try and bring down the trees that held members of their company. But Thorin’s appearance changed their minds about that. They were under order to bring Thorin to Azog alive – if Azog’s words were indeed the command he had spoken in the movie, that was – but they weren’t about to stand by and let him slaughter their kind either.

And Thorin was a formidable fighter, with years and years of battle experience. And his example drew several other dwarves out of their trees. It was a hopeless case, because they were outnumbered at least five to one, but they were no less determined for it. Dwalin joined the battle field with a war cry in Khuzdul that would have sent Kate running for the hills without second thought if she had been on the receiving end of it. Fíli and Kíli charged into the battle as if they were made to be doing so. Ori had quite possibly been forbidden to join in, but he was putting his sling to good use, taking out wargs with deadly accuracy. The stones he sent at them seemed to be hitting them right in the eyes every time.

It was the kind of heroic last stand that ended up being praised in stories and songs and the longer it went on, the more useless Kate began to feel. Common sense told her that she was not a warrior, so that she would do best to remain in her tree and wait it out, but something else, a feeling that she could not even identify, urged her to go out, do something, be part of the company. By signing the contract she had thrown her lot in with them and now she should act the part.

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , common sense chastised her. _You are not a warrior. You’d be a burden to them, not a help._

But Kate had been in the habit of not listening to that voice for far too long. And in the end it was necessity that forced her hand. A neighbouring tree had caught fire not too long ago and now the flames had reached some branches above her. This forest was not too dry yet, but still it would not be long before the entire tree was ablaze and if she had the choice between dying with a sword in hand or being barbecued, she would take the first option any day. Dwalin had once told her that when in a fight one had, in a way, always a choice on how you would leave this life and he was right. And Kate Andrews would rather go down fighting than await her fate in fear.

 _Well, Thorin did tell you to stay as long as you could_ , common sense finally admitted. _Now would be the ideal time to leave, don’t you think?_

And that were Kate’s thoughts exactly. She climbed down as quickly as she could, rucksack strapped to her back. She was all too aware that the bag would hinder her movements in the fight, but she was just not prepared to leave that last link to home behind. Her holdall had gotten lost in Goblin-town and this was all she had left now. Impractical or not, this was not getting lost as long as she had a say in the matter.

The orcs had not missed out on her descent either. They charged at her, probably sensing that she was just as much use in a fight as a new-born babe, as Thorin had once so eloquently phrased it. But she had just decided not to go down without a fight and she would stand by that. And the little bit of experience she had gained in Goblin-town proved to be valuable as well, although, if she was perfectly honest, she just dodged most of the blows directed at her.

In hindsight she would never be able to tell how long her lonely stand lasted, but after what felt like hours, she finally heard a familiar voice next to her. ‘Trying to get yourself killed, lass?’

‘Nice to see you too, Dwalin,’ Kate panted. She would not soon admit it, but she was eternally grateful for his interference. She knew she failed spectacular at any kind of fighting – not even her right hook was very impressive or dangerous – and her surviving thus far was more dumb luck than the result of her improved skills.

The dwarves tried to group around them, but as it was Thorin was the only one who made it to them. There were too many orcs hindering the others to get to them. The dwarf king was covered in blood. Most of it was black, which at least meant that it was not his own. It would seem that Kate had severely underestimated his fighting skills, but she was glad to see him again. Well, they were friends after all. She supposed she was entitled to.

The feeling did not appear to be mutual. ‘What are you doing here?’ he snarled at her.

‘Well, it may have passed you by, but our tree just so happened to be on fire,’ Kate pointed out, dodging another blow aimed at her head.

She had been afraid before, but the adrenaline had kicked in now and driven any sense of fear to the background. The fight had claimed her and there was simply no room left for her to feel anything else. _Keep this up and one day you’ll be a real warrior_ , a sarcastic voice commented.

They battled on. Thorin had given Dwalin some meaningful look just as he joined them. Kate was quite sure she had not been meant to see it, but she had. It had been an order without words and it didn’t take her long to figure out what it entailed. With Thorin on her left and Dwalin on her right, it felt like she had attained some bodyguards, doing most of her fighting, keeping the orcs away from her as much as they possibly could. Protecting the woman, as they had been taught to do all their lives, no doubt.

The orcs were aware of that as well and saw this system as a weakness. It didn’t take them long to separate Dwalin from them. The fight took him to another side of the battle, nearer the others, but Kate supposed that was just the way things were in battle. It didn’t worry her, not when there were so many other things to worry about instead.

It was only when the orcs seemed to disappear from around them that her alarm bells started to go off. This could not be natural. There were too many orcs and they hadn’t struck her as the types to throw in the towel and admit defeat when their opponents refused to die. And if that wasn’t enough indication that something was terribly wrong here, then Thorin’s rigid posture was. She could almost feel the tension and anticipation radiating off him and it certainly managed to put her on edge as well.

‘Get behind me,’ he growled at her.

In normal situations she would have argued. If there was one dwarvish trait that was getting on her nerves, badly, then it would not be their apparent lack of table manners or their almost blunt way of saying things. No, it was this protect-every-single-female-from-danger-attitude. She would have to admit that her fighting skills were severely lacking – she would not dispute that point – but it was more than a little annoying that they never gave her as much as a chance in battle. And all this protecting was screaming “weak member present here” for everyone with eyes to see.

But today was not a normal situation. There was something in Thorin’s voice that made her obey without question. Kate had heard him shout commands, heard him snap and bark at anyone who did not obey his orders, but this was a command of a completely different nature. This one had been spoken in a low, calm voice. But it was too calm and Kate was not an idiot.

 _And normally this is the point where the heroine of the story refuses to obey and tells him she’d rather die at his side than save her own skin by running away_ , some sarcastic voice in the back of her head commented.

 _Well, in case it had escaped your notice, I am not in love with him and helping him fight will most likely result in getting him killed, not save him from it_ , common sense chimed in. And as much as Kate disliked that, it was quite possibly right. And she had been forced to admit already that she was more of a coward than an action heroine. If she needed any more proof of that, she only had to remember the flight through Goblin-town.

Hiding behind Thorin was easy really, since he was a lot broader in the shoulder than she was, but Kate could look over his shoulder and see the source of the danger they were in. The advisor had no idea when Azog had come so close, but when she checked, he had.

He had been impressive when she had seen him from the tree, but up close he was even more terrifying than he had been then. Azog was tall, even for one of his kind it would seem. All his subordinates were definitely less tall than he was. Or maybe his height seemed just that impressive because he was seated on the back of an equally white and equally huge warg, who gave the impression that it hadn’t been fed for quite some time, since it was looking at Thorin and Kate as if they were its next meal. Saliva was dripping out of its mouth and it growled at them.

Her gaze wandered back to its rider, who was staring at them with barely concealed triumph in his eyes. He grumbled something in that language of his and while Kate could not understand what he was saying, it was clear from Thorin’s expression that he did. The dwarf king took a deep breath, presumably to calm himself, and stared back at Azog. He did not reply to the words, not even when the Defiler spoke another few sentences that had Kate believe that he was at least saying things that were less than complimentary.

Around them the fighting continued, but Kate hardly took notice of it. Her world had shrunken to the small patch of forest that contained Azog, his warg, Thorin and herself. The rest of the world had ceased to matter.

‘You will not have her.’ She was startled a little when Thorin spoke eventually. The king’s left hand slipped around her right. There was no reassurance in that touch. There was too much pressure behind it. His tension seemed to seep from his hand through her skin and right into her bloodstream. Whatever it was that Azog had said, it had unsettled her new friend, maybe even had him a little scared, even when that was a word she did not associate with the person of Thorin Oakenshield.

And it frightened her that whatever it was that the Defiler had said, it had been about her. Of course she had known that after Goblin-town word would get out that Thorin and Kate were a couple. She knew that as a consequence of that belief, she would be hunted just as Thorin was. But knowing and experiencing it for herself, those were two entirely different things. Right now, she wanted to do nothing more than to break into a run and get out of this wretched place as fast as her legs could carry her, even knowing that the warg would soon outrun her. It felt better than just standing here, waiting for the moment Azog would finally be done mocking and taunting them.

As it was Azog was not quite done yet. He let out a bark of laughter, which was infinitely more creepy than all the other things he had done so far. The laughter was followed by more words, probably insults, to which Thorin responded by gripping his sword even tighter. ‘You will not have her,’ he repeated. The words and the gripping of the elvish blade were more than sufficient to get the message across that this was a challenge. In a way it reminded Kate of the _You shall not pass!_ sentence from Gandalf.

And Azog responded to the challenge right away. He laughed again and then, on some command that Kate could not for the life of her understand, the warg jumped right at them.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What on earth have I gotten myself into?_


	25. Fight

 

_Before that day I would have said that there were very few things that were more scaring than being chased by goblins through dark tunnels with hardly any light to go on. I learned that day that there were in fact some things that were worse. Having a full-grown warg jump at you knowing that monster has every intention of literally biting your head off is a prime example. But strangely enough that was not what got to me most. The most frightening thing perhaps was to have an enemy that was threatening and mocking us, while I had absolutely no idea what he was even saying. When the Great Goblin had been insulting us, he had done so in a language we could all understand and in a way that had not been as threatening as Azog’s orcish rumbling. The Great Goblin we could pay in kind, spar with words as it were. With Azog I could only stand there and listen as the Defiler threatened to do Mahal knows what to us._

_But at least his actions spoke volumes. There was no need to translate the command he gave to that awful drooling overgrown dog of his, because it was all too clear what he wanted. The warg jumped from its place on a rock, making a beeline for us. And just as I started to believe that I was done for, something knocked me to the ground, out of the warg’s path…_

 

‘Ow!’ For a moment Kate was not sure how she came to be on the ground. The wind was knocked out of her as she landed on the hard and stony forest floor, but the physical discomfort was the very least of her concerns. She knew that the warg had been making for her and it was only because of this timely intervention that she was still alive.

A white blur shot past her, growling as it went, the growl changing to a howl of pain as a sword seemed to come out of nowhere, cutting through the beast’s fur, creating a bleeding wound.

The next moment she was helped to her feet and she found herself face to face with Thorin Oakenshield. ‘Are you well?’ he asked.

The realisation dawned on Kate that he had to be the one who had knocked her out of the way. Battle reflexes, she supposed, since she was not sure she could have pulled off such a feat in what little time they’d had.

She gave a curt nod. ‘I’m unharmed.’ Not entirely true, but at least that answer would stop that dwarf from fussing.

Thorin gave a nod of his own to let her know that he had heard her. ‘I want you to run,’ he told her. ‘The orcs are occupied now. If you’re quick, they will not miss you until it’s too late.’

If Kate was really honest she would have to admit that she had wanted run away from this mess ever since it had begun and obeying the king should not have been a problem for her at all. But something was off with this command, enough to give her pause. It was only when she repeated the order in her head that she realised what it was. ‘Wait, what about you?’ She had already half turned away from him, but this made her turn back. ‘It’s you they’re after, not me.’ All right, they were after her, Kate knew. But they were only after her because Azog believed that getting Kate would be a way for him to get Thorin. On her own she was not important.

And she was one hundred percent certain that Thorin was aware of this himself. He was sending her away because he knew that the orcs probably would not bother going after her when they had their intended target within reach.

 _Bugger that dwarf and his heroic tendencies!_ Kate thought angrily. He had given her an insight in the workings of his mind up in that tree. He would rather die than let any harm come to the company he had under his wings. He would not now abandon them, not in their hour of need. _Bugger that dwarf and his loyalty!_ If he wasn’t careful then someday that loyalty was going to get him killed. That someday now of course could just happen to coincide with today, what with the way things were looking now.

Because really, she was a part of said company. She had signed the contract. Could she really run while her companions, her friends, were fighting for their lives? _Well, it’s not as if you’re that much good on a battlefield_ , common sense reminded her. _You’d probably do best if you stayed out of their way and save them the worry._

But common sense could go to hell for all she cared. Kate Andrews had thrown in her lot with these dwarves and she seriously doubted that there was something in that contract that allowed the signer to back out when things got dangerous. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure she would ever be able to look at her own face in the mirror ever again if she took off now, running like the average coward.

No matter that she was scared out of her depth by the mere thought of getting caught up in a real fight again, she could just not run either. _Thorin’s attitude must be catching. Now I know for sure I’ve spent too much time around him_. Same stubbornness, check. Same loyalty issues, check. All that was left now was the stupid brooding he seemed to be able to keep up for hours at a time and the list would be complete.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she told Thorin before he even got the chance to reply.

‘You will be in danger,’ the dwarf king told her, unleashing his best army commander look on her.

Kate ignored it. She had become quite good at that. ‘What kind of a person leaves their friends behind to do battle with their enemies alone?’ That was of course a rhetorical question. Her mind was made up. Frightened though she may be, she was not going to back out and hang back this time. For once she was going to do the right thing, whatever that was supposed to mean. And since when had she ever listened to Thorin’s commands anyway?

At least Thorin had the good sense to recognise a lost cause when he saw one. ‘I’m honoured to have you at my side.’

Really, she wanted to ask what on earth that was supposed to mean, but admittedly this was neither the time nor the place for such a conversation. Azog had turned his warg and was coming at them again, but at least this time they were more or less prepared. Kate’s sword came into contact with flesh that looked remarkably like the Defiler’s leg. She was just starting to feel remotely pleased with her own performance – Dwalin would definitely be proud of her – when the wind was knocked out of her again.

Next thing she knew she was flying, but before she even had the chance to wonder how that had happened, her back came into contact with something solid, feeling remarkably like a tree stump. The landing made her gasp for air all over again. The world looked blurry and Kate felt altogether dizzy. If this was some kind of cartoon she was positive there would be half of the Milky Way pictured circling around her head. The world seemed to have exploded, leaving her with a headache of legendary proportions.

 _Yes, and now is not the time to pass out, girl._ It was only the realisation that she was still on a battlefield that helped her to push past the pain and dizziness and made her focus. She had obviously been promoted to the number two on Azog’s hit list – apparently even literally so – and passing out would do her chances of survival no good at all. And she had come to the conclusion that she wanted to live. Dying was not something she intended to do anytime soon.

Kate could not say how much time had passed since she had been tossed across the forest like a rag doll, but everything had changed. When she got to her feet again Thorin was on the ground, not moving and there was one particularly nasty orc standing near him, blade in hand. It didn’t take a genius to establish that he was not there to ask Thorin’s professional opinion on the quality of said sword.

It was like seeing the movie play out right before her eyes. It was completely the same, minus the nearby cliff, but otherwise identical. In hindsight she might reflect that she could have hoped that Bilbo would intervene here in movie-style, but in the chaos of the battle that was not the first thing to enter her mind. All she could see was her friend lying there, unable to defend himself, with everyone who could be of use too far off to be of any use. None of them would get there in time.

It didn’t stop her from trying, though. She was still not sure when she had actually decided that she did care for the grumpy dwarf king – she was actually quite sure that deciding had nothing to do with it whatsoever – but the fact remained that she did now. And they had decided to be friends – at least that had been a conscious decision – and friends did not let each other down. She owed it to Thorin to at least try.

‘Oi!’ she shouted in an attempt to get Azog’s attention. ‘Leave him alone!’ The chances of him listening to that were non-existent, but at least this command made her feel as if she was doing something. And maybe, just maybe, this would distract the executioner long enough for someone to stop this from happening.

In that respect it had the desired effect. Azog turned his mount to look at her, that evil smirk still on his ugly face. His executioner had half turned as well, favouring her with a look that was so much like his master’s that it would have sent the shivers down Kate’s spine, if she had given herself the time to feel fear, that was. For now the worry for her friend forced every concern to the back of her mind. Never mind that there was still a battle raging on around her, never mind that at least half of the trees was on fire. Thorin’s attitude must indeed be catching. He now had her forget about everything that would normally have scared her half to death.

Azog grumbled something again, none of which she could of course understand, but she didn’t need to understand the words to recognise the tone. The Defiler was gloating. He knew he had won and he took great pleasure rubbing her nose in her inability to stop him from committing a murder.

‘You bastard!’ she shouted, the anger boiling over. The effect was not that impressive because of her panting. But she was confident he would get the message anyway. ‘Take on someone your own size, big bully!’ Hardly the stuff that would end up in songs, but it would have to make do. She wasn’t doing this to end up in song after all.

Azog probably could not care less about the fact that she called him a big bully – he would have heard worse insults in his life – but the bastard one hit home. She had soon learned that it was not a common insult around here and it always meant that one was taking one’s parentage into question. It wasn’t just a way of saying you thoroughly disliked said person. Normally she tried to keep check of her own word choice, but right now it had just slipped out. It had not even been intentional.

But the fact remained that she could not have chosen a better insult.  Azog’s head swivelled in her direction and he bared his teeth at her, a gesture that was in some ways far more dangerous than anything else he had done so far. There was such a threat in something so small and had she allowed herself to feel anything at all, she would probably have turned on her heels and raced away in the opposite direction.

But her friend’s life was at stake here. As unlikely as it had seemed when she had set out on this journey, that was what he had become. And that orc with the sword was still standing there, looking singularly unimpressed with her insults, and he was the one she would need to distract if this hare-brained scheme was to be successful.

As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary to distract this one. In the chaos she had forgotten all about Bilbo. To be quite honest, she had not really seen him at all since this whole ordeal had begun, but she had thought he had been up in some tree or other and had at least the good sense to stay there while the rest of them were fighting. It would seem however that Bilbo listened to his common sense just as much as she tended to do, in other words, not at all.

The hobbit now used his full force to knock Azog’s chosen executioner out of the way. The orc stumbled, tripped over some tree root and fell face-first to the forest floor, knocking himself out against the rock his head collided with. That was a stroke of luck, which they definitely deserved, or so Kate told herself. They had seen precious little of it so far, so really it was only fair that they should have some good fortune in the end.

Not that they were out of the woods yet, even literally so in this case. There was still this problem of Azog being around that needed to be addressed. For one moment he had been as surprised as Kate was, but then he let out a roar that made Kate want to run for the hills without as much as a second thought. He growled something at her, which the journalist could not understand, even though it would probably be safe to assume that it wasn’t a casual remark about the weather.

Her hands clenched around the sword. She now found herself between Thorin and Azog, Bilbo somewhere next to her. They were all that the dwarf king had now. _And the two of us are hardly the stuff royal guards are made of_. The thought wriggled its way into her head, making her hands feel sweaty and her heart pound in her ears as if she had just ran the marathon instead of just a short distance.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered at Bilbo. _For doing what I could not_.

‘Well, you said that I was meant to be here,’ came the reply, although the hobbit did sound a bit shaky. Hardly a surprise in Kate’s opinion. He had seen as much battle as the advisor, which was to say none at all before they had entered Goblin-town. This was as new to him as it was to her and it was showing too. The burglar clutched his sword as if his very life depended on it, which was not that far off the mark if only he knew how to wield it. And Kate knew his skills in that department were sorely lacking, as were her own. _Prime example of a royal guard indeed._

‘Yes, I know what I said,’ she snapped at the halfling, a bit more irritable than she had intended because of the fear that was gripping her throat, making it difficult to think straight. ‘But let’s try to get out of here alive first, shall we?’

And that might be a difficult enough task anyway, because there was no doubt that the Defiler was a good deal stronger and better trained than either of them. Kate speculated how long it would take Azog to kill them both and a small voice in the back of her head wondered if it would hurt terribly much. That was doing her not much good either. The last place to get a full-blown panic attack was in the bloody middle of a battlefield.

 _And Thorin’s depending on you_ , she reminded herself. _The two of you are all he’s got now, so you better get a grip on yourself, Catherine Andrews, or he will pay the price for that_. It was that, having someone depending on her, that kept her grounded, prevented her from doing a runner. They had agreed on being friends and friends did not run away and left the other at some monster’s mercy.

Azog barked something, presumably an order for them to get the hell out of his path.

But Kate remembered what Thorin had told Azog. _You will not have her_ , he had said. And Kate now realised that the sentiment was mutual, as was the determination. ‘You will not have him,’ she growled. ‘Not while I live and breathe.’

Too late she realised that this could and would be seen as a challenge, one that Azog was fully prepared to meet. He bared his teeth again. His warg mimicked the movement, the saliva still dripping from its jaws. There was something infinitely threatening about this and in that moment Kate was one hundred percent sure that she was indeed going to die. No one could reasonably hold out against this Pale Orc. Even Thorin had been injured by him and he was one of the best fighters Kate had ever encountered. What chance stood a hobbit and a woman if even the most experienced warrior failed?

But running was no longer an option. The journalist doubted that it had ever even been one. Running away had ceased to be an option when she had accepted Thorin’s offer of friendship, no matter how unlikely or unorthodox the friendship. And quite frankly she was done with the hiding anyway. She had been telling herself for far too long that she was not a part of this, that she did not care for these dwarves, all out of fear that she would hurt herself when the moment came to leave. But she did care for them and she was a part of this. She had been ever since she had signed that contract. She might as well admit it. The way things were looking now going home was never going to happen anyway.

There came some kind of command from the Defiler’s mouth, doubtlessly a kill order spoken to the group of orcs that had assembled behind Azog, but they never got a chance to act on it. There was some kind of mighty roar coming from their left and next thing Kate knew there were dwarves charging what appeared to be Azog’s elite troop. Speaking about a rescue in the nick of time.

Kate was torn between joining in – something must be seriously wrong with her brain if she was even as much as considering fighting out of her own free will – and staying with Thorin. Bilbo had already made his choice, charging into the fray with much more enthusiasm than Kate had ever believed him capable of. The hobbit clearly had found his courage and Kate envied him for it. She herself was still far more afraid than anything else. Inside she was trembling. No, she definitely wasn’t feeling very brave right now.

That might have been the reason she opted on staying with Thorin. And, so she reasoned, there were still far more orcs out and about than she liked and leaving the barely conscious king right in the middle of a battlefield seemed like a very stupid thing to. The battle seemed to have moved a bit away from them, but Kate did not feel inclined to leave her spot. Cowardly or not, she was going to stay.

Thorin wasn’t unconscious, although Kate wouldn’t want to say that he was completely compos mentis. He had his eyes half closed and had difficulty breathing, but his fists kept clenching and unclenching, one of those tell-tale signs that he was still fighting. It was a good sign, Kate supposed. It was also a sign that Thorin was still as stubborn as he had ever been. He was still trying to fight in spite of being all but passed out.

‘How is he?’ She was startled when she heard Dwalin’s voice behind her, although she tried not to show it.

‘Alive,’ Kate replied. And that was probably the best that could be said of Thorin’s current condition.

‘We need to get him out of here,’ the warrior decided.

Kate was in no mood to argue. ‘How?’ It was pretty obvious that the dwarf king could not walk on his own right now and she was hardly built to carry anyone, let alone a full-grown dwarf with all his heavy armour on. She doubted she could even drag him as much as a centimetre from his place now. Dwalin was much better suited for that job.

And the warrior at least seemed aware of that. He was already bending over to lift Thorin up when an on storming orc prevented him from doing what he needed to do. It forced Dwalin to turn around and take on his attacker, trying to get it as far away from his king as possible.

‘Get him out of here,’ he barked at Kate. ‘Do it now!’

He had turned his back on her, fighting three orcs at the same time, before she had even the chance to ask how on earth she was supposed to be doing that.

 

***

 

The world had become altogether hazy and blurry since he had been respectively hit by Azog’s mace, been bitten and chewed on like a bone by the Defiler’s warg and then been tossed across the glade as if he weighed nothing at all. There was pain everywhere and he could feel the unconsciousness tugging at the edges of his mind, but if he would give in to it, there was every chance of him never waking up again, he knew that. And Thorin Oakenshield was not ready to die already. There was a quest that needed him and companions to look after. He could not leave them. He was their leader.

He tried to move, grab his sword, get to his feet, but his body made a point of ignoring the orders he gave it. All he managed was to clench and unclench his hands into fists and that was hardly going to stop Azog from putting an end to him. He needed to do something, _anything_.

His hearing seemed to have suffered from the blow as well, or else it was just the dizziness that prevented him from hearing straight. He blamed it on the last. A few moments – or hours, it was difficult to make it out with all the chaos around him – he had been almost sure that he had heard the advisor shout insult at Azog, but he soon dismissed it as a product of his imagination. Kate had been injured herself when he last looked, but she would be no longer important to Azog. Now that the Defiler had his remaining hand on the prize he had been hunting for so long, she did no longer matter. Kate had only been a means to an end to him. He would not bother with her anymore.

The same could not be said for the hobbit, who had knocked Azog’s chosen executioner out of the way just as he was about to strike. Thorin could not even begin to fathom why the burglar would do such a thing. He must have some sort of death wish Thorin hadn’t known about, because there was no reasonable explanation for this behaviour. The king had expected the halfling to run as fast as his short legs and hairy feet could carry him, straight back to his comfortable hobbit-hole, as far away from the danger as he could get. Mr Baggins had made it more than clear that he had no ambition to be here on this quest and if Thorin were to die, that would probably mean that he could return home, because without Thorin this company would indeed be leaderless. And he seriously doubted the possibility of the others accepting Gandalf’s leadership.

He strained his ears when there were voices nearby, but he could not make out what they were saying. What he did hear was that one of the voices belonged to Mr Baggins. Now that was not really a surprise, since he had saved Thorin just a few short seconds ago. His companion however took him by surprise. Thorin knew that voice. It belonged to the company advisor.

‘You will not have him.’ The tone was as determined as he had ever heard it, even as there was a slight tremor to it, indicating that its owner was more than a little nervous. ‘Not while I live and breathe.’

And what was she even doing here? He had told her to run, a command that Kate had obviously ignored. Was she suicidal as well? What had brought her back here? Was she completely unaware of the fact that she might just die?

He fought harder to hang on to his consciousness. Passing out would do none of them any favours, but oh Mahal, did he hate to feel so useless, so powerless! Thorin had gotten himself injured on numerous occasions – he had lost count long ago – but never as bad as this and he hated the feeling of not being able to lift a finger, knowing that his companions were out there, fighting for their lives. And he had been reduced to a burden, a liability, everything he had once accused Kate and Mr Baggins of being. And it were exactly those two  persons standing with him, defending him despite their obvious inability to do so. The world had turned upside down, as Kate would phrase it.

‘Run,’ he ordered her, but he could hardly hear his own voice over all the noise of the battle. Kate would never even hear him. She was too far off.

And the world was already blacking out around the edges. He had trouble keeping his eyes open, making the world seem like a blur of shapes and colours to him. And it would only be a matter of time now before he could no longer fight it and fall into unconsciousness. Fighting didn’t seem to be of any use, just like it had been no use fighting against Kate’s knowledge. It was a fight he was doomed to lose right from the start, before that battle had even begun.

He regained some of his awareness when he felt someone pulling at his arms, trying to drag him away, with trying being the operative word. But injured or not, Thorin was not about to let himself be dragged off to Mahal knows where by Azog’s vile soldiers. He started struggling again, trying to be as heavy and as uncooperative as he could possibly be. He may not be able to put up a real fight, but he wasn’t coming quietly either.

‘Will you stop it, you royal imbecile?’ A voice penetrated his mind. ‘I’m trying to help you here! The least you can do is help me as much as you can.’

In Thorin’s confused state of mind it took him several seconds to identify the voice. ‘Kate?’ Surely she could not be doing this? He knew she was stubborn, but he also knew that battle frightened her beyond anything. And he was by now quite convinced that she did have some sense of self-preservation. By all rights she should be halfway back to the Shire by now. Why was she still here? And, more importantly, why was she trying to drag him away?

‘Congratulations, your observational skills are as good as they ever were.’ The reply was sarcastic, but Thorin was not fooled. He had heard her bravado before, had become quite familiar with it. It was Kate’s way of dealing with situations she thought she could not face head on. Her humour, irony or anger was just a mask she chose to hide behind. It was her way of not showing the world her fear, but Thorin strongly suspected that it was also meant to not admit to herself how frightened she was.

‘What are you doing here?’ In his head it had been a well-formulated question, but the words coming out of his mouth sounded slurred, even to his own ears. He sounded like your average town drunkard, for Mahal’s sake.

But the advisor had apparently understood what he had been saying. ‘How about getting you out of here?’ she shot back. ‘Dwalin’s orders.’

She pulled his arms again and Thorin could not bite back a groan as the pain wrecked his body as a result. He knew it was bad, but this pulling at his arms made him feel just how bad things actually were. It was pure agony, the likes of which he had never felt before. His skill on the battlefield had always prevented him from ending up in such a state. But against Azog he had been as helpless as a new-born babe. And if he already lost against Azog, then what chance did Kate stand?

‘You should leave me.’ The words had been meant as a thought only, but they came out of his mouth before he could think about it twice. But he meant them. It was his responsibility as a leader to save as many lives as possible and commanding Kate to stay with him would be sacrificing her life. Thorin knew he would die here, much as he fought against it, and it would be no good to anyone to ask Kate, or anyone else for that matter, to die with him. At least Kate had a life to go back to, friends and family waiting for her. She least of all should risk her life for a quest that had never been hers to begin with.

She either hadn’t heard him or pretended not to hear him. Thorin wouldn’t rule out either of those two. The advisor was incredibly stubborn when she wanted to and once she had an idea in her head, not all the orcs in the world could get it out again. And as much as Thorin would love to live and complete the quest he had begun, he would never want to complete it if it meant that his companions would have to give up their life for him.

Kate was panting. Thorin could hardly see her, but he could hear her pretty well. ‘You should… cut back… on calories,’ she hissed. ‘You know, lose… some weight.’

In any other situation Thorin would have been insulted. He was definitely not fat and the advisor suggesting that he was, that injured his pride. Among his own people no one would ever have dreamed of uttering such a thing, but of course Kate was blissfully unaware of just about every rule of dwarvish society and her own didn’t seem to value propriety and rules very much if her behaviour was anything to go on.

But none of that really mattered now. Because he may be injured, concussed and confused, but he hadn’t lost his wits along with his ability to move of his own volition. He could hear the battle was still raging on. Anytime now some orc could see Kate moving. Or, even worse, Azog could see her. And that would surely mean both their ends.

‘Leave me,’ he ordered again, as loud as he could.

Kate’s dismissive huff was somewhat less impressive than it could have been. She was still out of breath, trying to move him away. And Thorin could not deny that he had indeed moved somewhat, although it could not be very far at all. ‘Dream on,’ was the only reply he got out of her as she renewed her efforts.

The dwarf weighed his chances of persuading her to see his point and found them slim to none. This woman was far too stubborn for her own good. And in this kind of situations, that headstrong attitude might just get her killed.

And he could not for the life of him understand why she would be willing to take such a risk. He had been less than nice to her for most of the journey and how they had ended up as friends was yet something of a mystery to him. But he also knew that Men were not as loyal in their friendships as dwarves were. And as a result of that he had expected Kate to run when he told her to. Instead she had opted on staying with him, even when she was almost scared out of her wits. That kind of loyalty was a dwarvish trait, not a human one. And he could simply not wrap his head around it.

Unfortunately his fear about the orcs coming for them came true hardly a minute later. Thorin had been trying to be as cooperative as he could be, but he still felt like a dead weight. He still had trouble breathing, although having something to focus on did help in keeping the darkness as the edges of his vision at bay, and he groaned in pain from time to time. All this pulling at his arms hurt more than he was willing to admit, but he was not a child anymore. He could not and would not give in to his urge to scream every time the advisor unknowingly and unwillingly made things worse.

And then she suddenly let go off him. He was about to ask what she was doing, but then the answer presented itself. ‘Get. Away. From. Him.’ The words seemed to come from between clenched teeth and Thorin wondered if he was the only one who heard the tremor in the advisor’s voice.

The other person, the one she had spoken to, merely laughed, or maybe cackled was the word. ‘Get out of the way, girl.’ Whoever this was, he was not within Thorin’s line of sight, but it would be a fair guess to say that this was an orc.

The dwarf king forced his eyes further open, willing himself to sit up and see something beyond the moving shapes and colours. His hands found a tree trunk behind him and he pulled himself up against it. He hated how much effort it took him and how much pain such a simple action caused. By the time he had managed to sit up he was sweating, panting and biting back screams of agony. But he was the king and he would not be seen crying like a baby.

He sought out Kate, finding her a good few steps away from him, trying and failing to get her sword out of its scabbard. But for some reason it was stuck and she couldn’t seem to be able to get it out. The orc that was facing her thought this very funny for some reason. He didn’t jump at the opportunity this was, instead standing there, laughing, mocking the advisor.

‘No need for you to die,’ the orc pointed out, his eyes taking in Kate’s body as if it was something edible. ‘Just get out of the way and we can end this.’

Kate gave up on her efforts to unsheathe her sword, backing away. Thorin could only see her back, but he had come to know her quite well over the last few weeks. There were these small signs giving away exactly how she felt about this: the hands balled into fists and the rigid posture were dead giveaways.

‘Leave him alone,’ she growled again. She knelt down, her eyes never leaving the goblin. At first Thorin wondered what on earth she was up to, but when she got up again she held his oaken shield in her hands. Maybe that backing away had not been in fear. Maybe it had been intentional and in that case it could just be that this woman knew what she was doing. And the steady voice when she spoke again just seemed to confirm that. ‘When’s the last time you’ve seen a dentist?’

A _what_? Fortunately the orc also seemed to have no idea what the advisor was talking about. He had gradually come closer, sword drawn, but Kate’s question seemed to stop him dead in his tracks. There was a puzzled expression on his face.

But not for long. ‘Because your teeth look perfectly rotten from where I am standing.’ Thorin could see her hands gripping the shield tighter, even though she was holding it all wrong. This was not the way one wielded a shield. Had Dwalin not managed to teach her at all? ‘So let me relieve you of that terrible burden.’

As it turned out, Kate had no intention of using the shield as a shield. She swung it like a club, right into the orc’s face. The orc in question had not anticipated such an action. He too had probably assumed that the advisor would hide behind it, not use it as a weapon. And now he paid the price for underestimating her. Kate’s first swing smashed out several of his teeth, making the foul creature howl. Whether it was in anger or in anguish, Thorin did not know. And it hardly mattered. Kate swung the shield again, a little higher this time and it hit the orc on the temple while he was still howling, effectively putting an end to the dreadful noise.

Kate staggered back, seemingly as surprised by her own actions as Thorin was. She all but dropped the shield, staring at the unmoving form of the orc in what appeared to be absolute horror. Thorin recalled that she had a similar reaction after the fight in the caves. It strengthened his opinion that his new friend was not a warrior. She could and would fight tooth and nail when her life depended on it, and apparently the lives of her friends as well, but afterwards she appeared to regret her actions.

Thorin tried to get up again, hating the fact that he could do nothing with every fibre of his being. He was reminded of why he had not moved until then when the pain returned as he moved, causing him to let out some kind of muffled cry that he found himself incapable of biting back before it was too late.

At least this gained him Kate’s attention. She swivelled around and sent him her usual disapproving glare. ‘Sit down, you hairy idiot. You’re not supposed to be moving at all. Óin is going to have my head for this anyway. Better not to make it any worse.’ And there it was again, the humour, a shield that seemed to serve her better than the one she was clutching as if her very life depended on it.

And Thorin found that talking helped him focus, helped to keep his dizziness under control. He was already breathing more easily since he had worked himself into this sitting position; his armour didn’t weigh down so heavily on his chest, even if it did feel restricting. ‘Should you not be a bit more concerned that one of those orcs might do the job before Óin can even get to you?’ he inquired.

The angry scowl on her face told him that she did not think this funny or reassuring. True, the fight had moved away from them somewhat. If Thorin really strained his eyes he could see Azog on the other side of the glade. Balin and Dwalin had somehow managed to drive the Defiler back to some burning tree, putting the Pale Orc in danger of catching fire and burning to death, a scenario of which Thorin heartedly approved. Azog’s mount was nowhere to be seen and Thorin thought it a safe assumption to say that that beast had died.

Or maybe not. There was a low growling coming from their left, making both king and advisor swivel their head in the direction of the noise. And it also became very clear where Azog’s mount had gotten to. Its rider may be on the other end of the clearing, but the warg itself was not. It had approached them while both of them had been too preoccupied with the orc Kate had now knocked out and there was no time to run, even if Thorin had been able to walk and they had actually a place to run to, which they hadn’t. And Thorin strongly doubted the possibility of the advisor knocking out a full-grown warg with his shield.

Kate staggered back, bringing her next to Thorin. She looked torn between wanting to shout and wanting to run, or do both, but she held her ground and kept quiet, keeping the shield in front of her.

‘Nice doggy,’ she said, sounding altogether terrified. ‘Now be a good boy and go.’

What in Mahal’s name did she think she was doing? Was she honestly convinced that this would help her in her goal to keep the beast far away from them? Was she really that naïve or was this too just a way of dealing with her fear?

And then the warg was gone. If Thorin had blinked he would have missed out on it entirely. Something fell down from the sky and grabbed the warg in large talons before taking off again, leaving the dwarf and the woman stare at the spot where the beast had stood.

For a moment his confused brain refused to understand it, but then Kate whispered ‘The eagles’ and he remembered, remembered Kate telling him that the eagles would come to their aid. She had no idea at the time when that would happen, but it would appear that now was the time. And now that he realised what was happening he felt the relief wash over him. Mahal be praised, they had been saved.

The eagles came swooping into the clearing in great numbers, picking up wargs and orcs left, right and centre. Where they took them, Thorin did not know and neither did he care. For now it was just enough that they were gone. Everything else could wait until a later moment, a moment when he was not in pain, not concussed and preferably had a few good meals and some sleep as well. It was only now that he was injured that he realised how weary he was. He could not even remember the last time when he had really slept well. But Thorin was a king. He of all people should know that he could not give in to the demands of his body while his company was still in some form of danger. But it had become very hard all of a sudden to keep his eyes open. The exhaustion, the injuries and the knowledge that the worst was over made short work of what Kate called the adrenaline, the thing that had kept them all running while they were still in danger.

He hardly even noticed it when the ground disappeared from under him.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I knocked out an orc with a shield, I called a warg a “nice doggy” and I shouted at Azog the very big and very ugly Defiler that he was a bastard. I am starting to fear for my sanity. What on earth do I even think I’m doing?_


	26. Flight

 

_The eagles were like a gift from heaven. I would be the last person to deny such a thing. Still, there was something rather unnerving about seeing those enormous birds come down into the clearing, taking out our attackers as if it was something they were doing every day and had no problems with whatsoever._

_And I of course knew what was coming after that. The eagles would deal with the orcs first and then come for us to get us out of this smoky, bloody and altogether horrible place. So far, so good. I even knew that they were not here to harm me. Still, I don’t think there are very many people who would not want to wet themselves with fear when they see an enormous eagle come down to them, picking them up to take them away to Mahal only knows where. Part of me even wished to remain here, opting on walking away rather than flying._

_Naturally that was not one of the options and so I had to settle for closing my eyes and suppressing the urge to scream when I felt one huge claw roughly the size of my entire torso – if not bigger – encircle my waist, lifting me up from the ground and carrying me away._

_Now I am almost certain that most of you would think this an interesting experience. But I think that even you would think again when you made the mistake of actually looking down from such a height, realising exactly how far away that safe and steady ground is, realising also that said ground will not be safe and steady at all if you were to fall that very second. I had never been afraid of height, but taking a trip by eagle definitely swayed my mind on that account…_

 

Kate thought she might throw up. She had just made the very bad mistake of looking down. The eagle that was holding her within its grasp was flying at great height and they had just passed some gorge or other, making Kate realise that the ground was indeed very far below her now.

She had never been a great fan of flying. The mere thought of boarding a plane had caused waves of nausea. She blamed those sodding programs that analysed plane crashes in detail for her fear of everything to do with flying. Jacko had loved those programs a few years back and consequently Kate had seen her fair share of them as well. It had completely destroyed her confidence in the whole flying business.

Now of course the eagle was not a plane and would not drop out of the air because of engine failure or, heaven forbid, some kind of terrorist attack, but that did nothing to soothe her stomach or her fear. It was cold up here, but Kate’s hands felt sweaty. She could not reach the eagle’s claw with the way she was being held, so she settled for clinging to Thorin’s shield for dear life, conveniently banishing the thought that this would do nothing whatsoever to save her life if she were to fall to the back of her mind.

She tried to distract herself from this very unpleasant situation by looking at Thorin, who was being held in the eagle’s other claw. The dwarf king seemed to have passed out. It was a small wonder after all he had been through, Kate supposed. She had not seen him getting injured, since she herself had been rather preoccupied at the time, but if he had even suffered half as much as he had in the movie then it surprised her that he had remained conscious for so long in the first place.

And he looked altogether pitiful right now. The dwarf was most definitely far paler than was healthy and he was sporting several bleeding wounds that made Kate cringe inside. Her common sense immediately told her that this was a very foolish thing to be doing, because it would be rather stupid of her to start caring about someone she would have to leave behind at the end of the quest. It was foolish to form attachments in this world. All it would leave her with was a desire to see people she could never meet again once she was back in her own world.

But in that regard it might already be far too late, because if she was really honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was already caring for her companions. Some were just friends, like Thorin, others were siblings, like the Ri brothers. And that was perhaps the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Kate had always had a brother, and had been rather close with him as well, and the dwarf brothers had effortlessly come to fall in the very same category. They were providing her with both a family and ties to this world she still was a foreigner in.

And yet it also made her feel like she was being torn in two, each half being pulled in another direction. One part of her desperately wanted to go home and see her family again, while another part was starting to feel at ease – too much so probably – with the current company. And she was one hundred percent convinced that returning to her own world would not magically cure her from the bonds she had formed here. Oh, she had no doubt whatsoever that she would love to see her family again – even if she could never tell them where she had been for fear they would think her insane – she would surely miss her new family as well.

‘Bugger those dwarves!’ she muttered under her breath. She had not quite intended to speak those words out loud, but she meant them. Why, oh why had Dori even wanted to practically adopt her into his family in the first place anyway? Surely it could not be just because of the whole she-saved-my-little-brother-from-the-big-bad-warg-business? That would be taking gratitude a bit too far in Kate’s opinion. And quite frankly it was just ridiculous, this. She was not a dwarf. She was not even a halfway decent fighter and there hadn’t been too much saving going on when she had knocked Ori out of the way. It had just been her tripping and falling, something Dori had not seemed to understand at all yet.

All of this did make her realise though that things got only more complicated the longer she stayed with this company. And these new friendships, they frightened her. She had been fighting to be accepted from the moment she had signed that blasted contract, but now that she was, it scared her more than fighting orcs, or flying with an eagle. Their faith in her abilities was something Kate could never have predicted, but it already felt like she was suffocating under the weight of their expectations and hopes. And she found she could not handle that.

 _I need to get out of here_. The thought settled in her head and refused to go away again. But she agreed with it. Both these expectations that she would never be able to live up to and these friendships that bound her to a world she did not want to be bound to made her wish for home. It made her wish for life to be simple, predictable, like it had always been. Novels about adventures were all very nice, but right now she came to the conclusion that she did not want to be _in_ them. _But how do I get out of here?_

There was no answer to that question now, but at least it had distracted her for a while and that had to be worth something. The eagle was still flying. Somewhere in the distance the sky was starting to colour a much lighter shade of blue than it had been previously. Dawn could not be that far off anymore. Unfortunately this also meant that she could see the ground much better than she had before and that was not too good for her stomach, that had been calming down a bit when her mind had been on other topics. It made her wish that this journey would soon be over, because this might just induce another round of vomiting.

And things only got worse when the eagle suddenly dropped quite a few metres before flying in the right direction again. Kate’s stomach felt like it had remained on their previous height though and she had to swallow hard to keep herself from forgetting all about her intention not to throw up.

But the anger now replaced the nausea. ‘Do that again, you big feather ball, and I swear to God I’ll make a pillow out of you!’ That might not be the wisest thing to shout at an enormous bird who could just decide to drop her the moment he had enough of her, but the words were out before she could stop herself. The exhaustion seemed to have robbed her of the ability to think first and act later.

Oh, how she wished for an opportunity to lie down and sleep to her heart’s content. Most of the adrenaline had gone by now and the only a weariness remained. She felt tired to her bones. If Gandalf’s assessment of the situation was right they had been inside the mountains for at least two days and she hadn’t slept in there. The effects of that were all too obvious now. For a moment she even envied Thorin, who had remained blessedly unconscious throughout the entire flight. How he did it was entirely beyond her, but she envied him for it all the same.

But at least this journey appeared to be nearing its end. In the distance she could see something that looked like the eagles’ nests, spread out over the mountainside. _So, that means we’re not getting straight to the Carrock_ , Kate thought. _Following the book again, are we?_ Sometimes she found herself hating the fact that those two were both true. Her job would be so much easier if the real events just followed one of the two. But life wasn’t meant to be easy, she supposed. The last few days were proof enough of that.

The eagle had gone into a descend for real now, slowly circling down before reaching his nest. For a moment the company advisor foolishly wondered if the beast would forget about her and Thorin and put his full weight on them, but fortunately he dropped them softly and hopped a small distance away from them to give them some space.

Thorin was still sleeping, something Kate wished she could do as well, but there was still an eagle standing there and she supposed she might need to thank him for coming to the rescue when they needed it most.

‘Thank you,’ she forced herself to say, looking up to meet the bird’s huge eyes. ‘You really helped us out there.’ It was probably not the polite way of expressing thanks in Middle Earth, but Kate wasn’t really educated in eagle etiquette, so this would have to do. ‘We are in your debt.’

The eagle in question fixed her with an intense stare. ‘We are always glad to cheat the goblins and orcs of their sport,’ he replied. The creature looked like a very dignified one, making Kate believe that this one must be pretty high up in the ranks of its kind.

 _And here you are, conversing with a talking bird_ , her brain commented. _Middle Earth meets Narnia._

It felt very surreal to the company advisor. But that might also be the natural result of being so exhausted. Her brain was hazy and she felt slightly unbalanced. Come to think of it, this would have to the longest she had ever gone without sleep and she found she didn’t like it at all. It wasn’t an experience she was anxious to repeat anytime soon. And really she was hoping that this overgrown eagle – since when were they so huge anyway? Were all the animals in Middle Earth so much larger than at home? – would leave her alone so she could catch some hours sleep as she by now was very desperate to get. Her gaze strayed to where Thorin was lying, obviously completely unaware of everything that was going on around him. He looked more asleep than unconscious despite his injuries. Lucky guy.

‘Well, I am thanking you all the same.’ Kate supposed that was only fair. Without the eagles’ interfering all of them would be dog’s food by now, or worse. ‘And I apologise for insulting you,’ she added as an afterthought, knowing that was quite possibly required of her. And she should really not have insulted this eagle. He had rescued her after all and giving back insult was a very poor repayment indeed. And no matter what had caused her to threaten her rescuer to turn him into a pillow, it was still inexcusable.

The eagle accepted that apology with a graceful nod of the head. ‘You need to sleep, little fledgling,’ he told her. ‘Rest here.’

That had Kate looking at him in suspicion. ‘And what will you be doing, if I may be so bold to ask?’ She trusted this bird, really. After all, he had taken her out of that living nightmare and he hadn’t dropped her during the flight either, not even when she had shouted insult at him. But it was quite another thing to go to sleep in what obviously was his nest, where she had no business being really. Besides, it didn’t seem big enough to accommodate all three of them.

‘There are still goblins out making mischief,’ the eagle replied. ‘We must deal with them.’ Dealing with them here obviously having the meaning of finishing them off, an arrangement Kate found herself absolute in favour of. She didn’t consider herself a violent person – the fiasco in the caves of Goblin-town had made that all too clear to her – but that didn’t mean that she wanted those nasty creatures to get away with the crimes they had doubtlessly committed. And if the eagles managed to get their hands, or rather talons, on Azog while they were at it, all the better it would be for them. But why on earth eagles would describe the goblins’ and orcs’ behaviour as mischief, as if they were naughty boys who had been caught doing something they were not supposed to do, that was entirely beyond her. But Tolkien had used the same words in the book, so she supposed she should not really have been that surprised.

‘Well, then I am wishing you good luck,’ Kate replied a bit hesitantly, because she had no idea if that was even considered the appropriate response. Next time she saw Balin she really had to ask him to teach her something about the etiquette of this world. Her experiences so far had taught her one important thing: her knowledge on that particular subject was severely lacking. And it would seem she was stuck in this place for a while yet – unless of course she was able to come up with a good plan to get home – so she might as well try and learn some of their ways. It would help her enormously in not making a complete fool out of herself.

The eagle inclined his head again and took off, leaving her to her own devices. The exhaustion had settled in for real now, but Thorin was still lying there, looking positively bad. He was still unconscious, still bleeding from some rather serious looking wounds and still far too still to be healthy. She had never seen anyone lying so still before. If she had not seen his chest rise and fall with his breathing, she would have believed him dead.

But she did not think Thorin was in mortal danger. He had a lot of wounds, true, but none of them were looking like they were fatal. And dwarves, Kate had learned with time, were the most hardy creatures in the world. They were made to endure. _Thank Mahal for being in the possession of some common sense_ , her brain commented. If dwarves were so prone to get into trouble, they had at least been provided with strong bones and the stubbornness to fight against their injuries. A human being would have died instantly if he had received such wounds. Thorin was still out cold, but in no danger of dying yet. Kate wouldn’t put it past him to be just too stubborn to die either. He had his heart set on this quest and no one and nothing was going to stop him from achieving his goal.

And thinking of that she found it hard to believe that someone like him would ever succumb to the gold sickness. He just didn’t seem the type. It would destroy everything he was now fighting for, would undo all of the good work he had ever done.

Could that be one of the things Gandalf wanted her to change? Kate supposed so, but there was no way to be certain. So far the wizard had not been sharing any of his motivations with any of them and it certainly was annoying some of them to no end, Thorin of course being one of them.

And she could only guess at what Gandalf wanted with her. They had established almost immediately that Kate was no fighter, which made her highly unsuitable to join the quest. And the fact remained that there were people who could fight and survive in the wild, and who also knew the book very well. Yet Gandalf had chosen her. And since this was not a fanfiction, Kate thought it highly unlikely that he had only brought her to this place to pair her up with some member of the company. The wizard was a scheming man, playing kingmaker and using other people to achieve his goals – which admittedly were noble even if he means were a little less so from time to time – but he was not a matchmaker. And thank goodness for that.

Her gaze wandered back to the wounded dwarf. No, none of his wounds would be fatal, but things might easily get rather nasty if said wounds would infect. And of course there was no telling where Óin was at this particular moment, but it would probably be a fair bet to say that he would not be able to pop in for a while.

‘Charming,’ Kate commented under her breath. She had some basic First Aid knowledge, even if it was a bit sketchy, and she had some supplies in her rucksack, but all in all she was not the healer material. And really, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep until she was fully rested again. But she had agreed to be friends with this dwarf, even if that agreement had been made less than a day ago, and that was something friends never did.

‘Bloody dwarf,’ she growled. ‘Making me lose sleep over him as well. Whatever bloody next?’

At least her resolve not to like him was crumbling for real now. Kate still wasn’t sure if she really did like this man, because he could still be as grumpy and unsociable as he had ever been. But he had also made her receptive to seeing some of his more admirable qualities. That blasted loyalty of his was a good example of that. He had proven time and again that he would do anything to protect the people he believed himself to be responsible for. And yes, he did so by snapping and barking orders left, right and centre, but Kate found she could no longer fault him for that when he was doing it for all the right reasons. _Ugh, why does he have to be so bloody noble all of the time?_

But it was a useless question. Even if Thorin had been awake, she was convinced she could never bring herself to ask it. Ten to one she would get an answer along the lines of how he believed it to be nothing more than his duty anyway. It would be pointless to ask, yet she still found it hard to believe that all his actions were guided by some sense of duty. Could anyone really do all this for such a reason? But she could not really know, could she? Their worlds and societies were just too different.

She took out the First Aid kit and started cleaning the wounds on Thorin’s face and neck, hoping that he would stay unconscious as long as she was busy. This was after all a bit of a compromising situation and Thorin getting the wrong impression was something she could really do without. It was bad enough with the elves, orcs and goblins already believing them married.

Most of the wounds were not too deep and fortunately easily cleaned. But the sleeves of his tunic were stained with blood and that might be where the real damage was. The advisor hesitated for a moment. ‘You had better not wake up right now,’ she warned him, before she took off the vambraces and pushed the fabric back so she could tend to the injuries there as well. Those wounds were deeper and looked a lot more serious and Thorin cringed away from her touch, even while he remained blessedly unconscious throughout the treatment.

‘Really, someone ought to have told you not to pick fights with wolves,’ Kate muttered as she worked. ‘Or orcs for that matter. You’re entirely too self-sacrificing for your own good.’ She dressed the wounds and then let her eyes wander to his torso. If the movie was right then Azog’s ugly pet would have tried to use Thorin for a chewing toy, which would mean he had wounds there as well, but taking off the rest of his armour was just a step too far for her, even if she had known how to do it. ‘Óin can clear that up,’ she decided. It was none of her concern.

She covered the king up with the blanket she had tied to the rucksack and then curled herself up under her own cloak. Sleep came easily now and Kate was out before the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon.

 

***

 

Thorin was disorientated when he finally regained consciousness, not in the last place because he had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was the burning battlefield on the mountainside. Kate had been there, calling Azog’s warg a nice doggy, but things got hazy and blurry after then.

He strained his mind, trying to recall more details. There had been birds, eagles. Kate had told him they would come, but Thorin had been sceptical. He had not understood why eagles would come to their rescue and to be quite honest, when he had been in the middle of the fight he had all but forgotten about them until one had come and had ended the warg once and for all.

But what happened after then was unclear. He supposed he must have passed out, but there was no real telling what had occurred after that moment. Thorin supposed that he had been rescued in some way, because if the goblins or orcs had gotten their filthy hands on him, he doubted he would have been left so comfortable as he was now. Someone had even taken the time to cover him up with a blanket, he felt.

He cracked one eye open, finding himself staring at what appeared to be the fading light of day. The sky was painted in orange, red and purple, and the first stars had already come out. He had at least slept an entire day, if not longer and he sincerely hoped that that was not the case.

Thorin tried to push himself into a sitting position, regretting that action almost immediately as the pain, that had been blessedly dormant as long as he had been lying still, returned in full force. But he could handle that. He was the king and not some baby crying at the smallest injury. He could deal with this. But he could not quite escape the groan of pain that crossed his lips before he had the chance to bite it back.

He appeared to be in some kind of bird’s nest, but an awfully big one, on a mountainside. That could only mean that his guess about the eagles taking them out of the battle had been right. They had even gone as far as to take them to their own homes, but there wasn’t an eagle in sight right now and Thorin wondered where they had gone off to. Without their help it was unlikely that he would ever make it down to the ground again.

It appeared that someone had seen to his wounds while he was out. There were bandages on his arms and the wounds on his face, while stinging unpleasantly, appeared to have been taken care of as well. Some salve stuck to his fingers when he touched his face and there was a bandage wrapped around his head as well. That would be something he’d have to get rid of before he met up with the company again, because Thorin seriously doubted his companions would be able to hold back their laughter at that sight, no matter how much respect they had for him. Óin should have had more sense than to make him look that ridiculous.

But it had not been Óin who had fixed him up. There was no trace of his companions in this nest. There was however a mass of red messy curls almost hidden entirely under the warm grey cloak of the company advisor. The owner of said hair and cloak appeared to be asleep, having curled up under the garment entirely, which Thorin considered quite a feat. She must have been exhausted long before they got here and the dwarf king wondered why she had even taken the time to see to his wounds before she had gone to sleep herself. And he recognised the blanket he had been under as well. The thing had been tied to her backpack for the duration of the journey. It had come with her from her home in that other world and had remained with her ever since. The same thing could be said about the bag itself. Kate didn’t go anywhere without it.

And true to expectations Thorin located it half a metre away from him, next to both their swords, his shield and some kind of box with a red cross painted on it. Ten to one that this box had come from the bag as well. Sometimes he did wonder how she managed to stuff all her belongings in that bag.

‘You should not be up,’ a sleepy voice commented.

That had Thorin turn around, finding a bleary-eyed Kate looking back at him. Her braid had come undone sometime during the fight and the already messy hair was now sticking in every direction. It was looking rather funny, although Thorin knew better than to comment on that. He did value his head and he had not gone to such troubles to keep Azog from separating it from the rest of his body only to have it ripped off by his new friend in a fit of temper.

‘Did I wake you?’ he inquired instead. He could not for the life of him figure out how, since he had been very quiet, but it was always possible, he imagined.

‘It’s fine,’ Kate said dismissively, confirming it as well as a standard yes might have done. ‘I’m awake now. And you should still be lying down. You’re injured.’

As if he could forget about that. Thorin sent her a glare. ‘And you are certain you are not related to Dori by blood?’

That earned him one of her disapproving glowers. This was promising. Hardly awake and already landing themselves into the next argument. It must be a record of some kind. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that you have been rather badly injured,’ she insisted, ignoring his remark. ‘Have you seen yourself recently? You look as if you’ve been on the wrong end of a butcher’s knife.’

Thorin took her word for that. He had no ambition to see it for himself. As long as he had not seen it, he could pretend it wasn’t there and he could act as normal. ‘Where are the eagles?’ he asked.

Kate stifled a yawn and sat up as well, wrapping the cloak around her tightly against the cool mountain’s air. ‘Out hunting goblins and orcs,’ she replied. ‘The one that took us here said something about “dealing with goblins making mischief” out there somewhere.’ She snorted. ‘Making mischief. Understatement of the century.’

Thorin chuckled, regretting that immediately when it caused a stinging pain in his chest. He tried to hide his reaction, but Mahal, was that woman observant when she put her mind to it.

‘It still hurts?’ she asked. ‘I have not been able to look at it, but it didn’t seem to be too serious anyway…’ Her voice trailed off, a bit hesitant.

And it probably wasn’t too serious. Nothing was broken – he hoped – and his armour had not been pierced by the warg’s teeth, Mahal be praised. He did however feel as if he had been placed between hammer and anvil, but that was only to be expected after having been used as a warg’s chewing toy.

‘It is nothing of importance,’ he told the advisor.

She raised her eyebrow in a quizzical manner, telling Thorin that she did not believe a single word of that speech, but she let it pass. Instead she crawled over to the backpack. ‘I should have some supplies left. We could share them?’ It came out as a question.

Thorin just gave her a curt nod. ‘That would be acceptable.’

This had her laughing. ‘Do you always get that formal when you’re just awake?’

‘Is that a problem?’ he inquired, not quite sure what it was that she was even commenting on. In his opinion he had done nothing out of the ordinary.

Kate still chuckled as she retrieved some of her supplies, making Thorin wonder how she even fit all these things into this bag. ‘That proves my point,’ she remarked. ‘And no, it’s not a problem. It’s just a thing that you’re doing when you appear not to know what to say.’ She shrugged. ‘A friend can notice such things, right?’ 

He supposed so and so he nodded, accepting the food with a curt nod. It wasn’t much and it certainly would not be enough to fill his stomach, but it would help. Kate had given herself a similar portion and was eating of it as if she had not seen food in days, which was not too far beside the truth.

‘Where are the others?’ he demanded of Kate when they had both finished eating. Thorin was not in a hurry to admit just how hungry he had been before then, but he had been. The food had forced other concerns from his mind for a while, but they were back in full force now that he had eaten and had gotten some rest. His wounds were stinging and itching, but that he could deal with.

‘Other nests, I think.’ She swallowed the last of her meal. ‘The real events are deviating from the book at this point. Again, I might add. We’re not supposed to remain separated for the others for this long.’ A deep frown appeared on her forehead. ‘But both book and movie agree that the eagles will all drop us off on some kind of rock at some point in time.’ Kate seemed to have resigned herself to that already.

Thorin however had not. They had wasted more than enough time already and he wanted to get moving again. ‘And you are content with waiting here?’ he demanded, feeling his temper rising.

‘Well, unless you’ve got a better idea!’ she countered. ‘You’re perfectly welcome to go and climb down all by yourself. Just don’t come running to me when you fall and break your neck.’ For a moment she very much reminded the dwarf of a certain wizard he knew well.

There was some logic in her reasoning, much as Thorin hated to admit it. Even in normal conditions it would be foolish to climb down on his own from the high place they were in, but in his current condition it would be suicide. Dwarves had strong bones and thick skulls – as Kate never grew tired of saying – but they weren’t thick enough to survive a fall on the rocks below and Thorin didn’t feel the need to try and find out for himself. There was however no reason why he should tell the advisor that she was right. She would only favour him with that smug expression she tended to have whenever she was proven right about something and Thorin was quite sure he could not handle that at the moment. Friends they might be, but it was still early days. And he wondered if they would ever stop fighting anyway. It seemed to be a defining thing for them.

Kate had turned her back towards him and was now going through her belongings, digging up a comb with which she practically attacked her hair, a clear sign that she was mad about Thorin questioning her actions again. For a woman who kept insisting that others’ opinions did not matter to her, she reacted rather hurt when someone verbally attacked her or even as much as questioned her actions. Women could be impossible to deal with from time to time. Thorin could testify to that himself, having had to deal with a younger sister who had as much of a temper as the company advisor when she was younger.

If his experience with Dís was anything to go on, then he should do something to make it up to Kate before she would talk to him again. A few days ago he would not have bothered to go to the trouble, but they had agreed to be friends now and the fact remained that Kate had defended him during the fight and had tended to his wounds before they had the chance to infect. Thorin owed her, much as he detested the thought of being in anyone’s debt.

‘Give that to me,’ he ordered, taking the comb out of the advisor’s hands before she had the chance to give it to him, which Thorin suspected she would never ever have done of her own volition.

He was proven right. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Kate tried to turn around, but Thorin’s hands held her in place and her struggle was useless.

‘Making sure you do not pull all your hair out,’ he retorted.

Kate growled in frustration, but gave up on her fighting when she realised it wasn’t doing her any good. ‘You’re so bloody bossy!’ she complained. ‘I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair, you know!’ She seemed more uncomfortable now than really angry, if the way she kept shifting and moving was any indication, although Thorin could not for the life of him figure out what made her this jumpy. This had always the way to make amends to Dís and she had never been this nervous. Something about this must mean something else in that wretched world Kate was coming from.

‘Is this in any way inappropriate to you?’ he asked.

He couldn’t see her face now, but he could hear the frustrated sigh. ‘Not inappropriate. Just…’ She seemed to be looking for the right word. ‘Unusual,’ she decided in the end.

‘Your brother never did this for you?’ If anything, this confirmed what Thorin already thought about Kate’s brother. He didn’t seem to be standing up for his sister or helping her in any way from what he had heard. Thorin failed to see why she was so attached to him in spite of that.

But she did not seem saddened by his question, quite the opposite. The advisor let out a bark of laughter. ‘Jacko? Combing my hair? _Please_!’ The entire notion seemed ridiculous to her. ‘He wouldn’t know one end of the comb from the other. I very much doubt he even knows what it is.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But I am guessing that in your culture this is normal?’

‘Among family and friends, it is,’ Thorin confirmed. And they had agreed to be friends, so he was perfectly well allowed to do this, although he would readily admit – if only to himself and not to anyone else – that he might better have picked another way to make it up to her. But then, he could not have known about her dislike of this treatment, could he?

Kate sighed. ‘Different worlds, different customs, I suppose.’ She relaxed a little. ‘But if you start pulling my hair out, I’ll make meeting Azog look like a walk in the park to you.’

Thorin suppressed the urge to chuckle. That notion was as ridiculous as the notion of her making him sing soprano for the rest of his life, but he suspected this was just her way of giving in without making it appear like giving in. Nevertheless, he had vexed her quite enough for one day and he could do without another argument, so he was as careful as he could be.

‘You know, you really should not be doing this,’ Kate commented after a lengthy silence. ‘You’re still injured.’

Thorin bit back a snappy reply along the lines how he knew how to deal with injuries like that. He wasn’t some kind of fragile human who winced at the smallest wound. He was a dwarf and a king. It wasn’t in his nature to show weakness, especially not when the injuries were not as serious as Kate seemed to believe. The fact that his muscles still ached with every movement and that his breathing wasn’t as easy as normal either he conveniently ignored. That would heal in time.

‘I am perfectly capable of brushing your hair, Miss Andrews.’ The words still came out a little harsher than he had intended them.

‘Kate,’ she instantly corrected. ‘And fine, have it your way. You’re the leader after all. You are used to getting what you want.’ The tone was a little mocking. ‘I really think you should start telling that to Azog. It must have passed him by somehow.’

Some people would have bitten her head off for making fun of the situation like that, but Thorin suspected that this was some peace offering from her side, even if it was hard to tell for sure. He put the comb aside and started braiding her hair back into place. His hands were used to the task and it didn’t require any thinking at all. He took some liberties though and he didn’t do it quite in the fashion she had worn so far, instead opting on a more dwarvish style. After all, she had been adopted by Dori and his brothers. In a way she belonged to them now, even if she was not quite aware of that herself. But he would gladly leave it to her new siblings to explain that to her. Thorin predicted more violent outbursts when eventually someone would explain and he had decided he had no ambition to be on the receiving end of Kate’s temper again.

Kate wasn’t completely oblivious to what he was doing though. ‘One simple braid would have sufficed, you know.’ She sounded a little irritable. ‘It’s only hair, not a work of art. Even if someone really should tell that to Dori and Nori some time.’

One corner of Thorin’s mouth curled up. Even for dwarves their hairstyles were rather elaborate. ‘It makes you fit well within that family then,’ he commented. This once again reminded him of the banter they had kept up in Rivendell and several other times when there had not been a crisis. It was almost too easy to do this. One moment they’d be fighting and the next they’d be teasing and it confused Thorin as much as her. And at the same time it seemed like something that was entirely natural, even if neither of them seemed to understand why they were doing it.

‘Ha!’ Kate let out a bark of laughter. ‘I should hope not. I could do without the braids-all-over-the-place-look Dori keeps up, or the hair-sticking-out-in-every-direction-style Nori has.’

‘It would not suit you,’ Thorin agreed. They were silent for a while again. ‘What says your book that will happen next?’ It was hardly a conscious choice to ask this question out loud. It sprang from the desire to know he had experienced while holed up in that tree, a desire to know what she knew, to use that knowledge to help the quest along. He could not fathom what had changed his mind, but he at least strongly suspected that it had something to do with the idea that knowledge had indeed the power to change, not only to predict. It had gradually taken root and it had been fed by the frustration of not being able to do anything while the company was in danger.

He had been tying up the end of the braid with the leather strip he had thrown at her that morning in Bag End, but the hair was almost yanked out of his hands when Kate swivelled her head around. ‘Are you telling me that you want to know what is in the book?’ There was disbelief in both her voice and eyes.

Even when Thorin knew that she had a good reason to react like this – because he had not been approving of her presence and the book she carried with her in the past few months – it still vexed him. It was almost as if Kate didn’t believe him capable of changing his views when the situation asked for it. He felt his face twist in an angry scowl before he had even given himself permission to do so. ‘You question my words?’ he demanded. Thorin met her eyes, finding that Kate did not avert them. She was one of the few he knew that did not seem to be bothered at all by the king’s most disapproving stare. She met it with a determined look of her own. There was a spark there, telling the dwarf that she was not backing down.

‘I think Azog has hit you on the head too hard,’ the advisor countered. ‘Because I cannot honestly come up with any other reason why you would suddenly be interested in my book.’ In Kate’s own strange way this was almost diplomatic. She wasn’t outright doubting his actions – because that would have annoyed Thorin – so instead she tried to deflect it with a quip.

Thorin sent her an icy stare that told her that he did not believe this to be some kind of joke.

She sighed. ‘Why don’t you just read the bloody book if you want to know?’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m not some walking encyclopaedia. You can read yourself, can’t you?’

Her mouth seemed to have been faster than her brain again, for when their eyes met again, she seemed as shocked as Thorin himself. For a long while neither of them spoke. Thorin tried to keep his face as blank and stern as possible and he thought he succeeded. The inside was another matter entirely. There was some small part of him that still shied away from this. The larger part of him had already accepted the fact that Kate’s knowledge could be useful, but reading it for himself was something else altogether. And he had never believed that there would be any need for him to do so. Kate had been brought here to advise him.

But there had also been that desire to know, to see and understand it himself. Thorin was the kind of person who wanted to do things himself. He hated to rely on anyone for anything. And maybe it was that attitude that eventually made him rise to the challenge. ‘Very well,’ he told the advisor. ‘We will do this your way.’

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _What in Durin’s name have I just agreed to?_


	27. What If

 

_I felt awfully clever and cunning after I had gotten Thorin to read the book. My mind was already racing ahead, thinking of the possibilities that this created. Thorin would read the book and know everything I knew myself. The time period that was covered in the first movie had all but ended and since the following two had not yet been released, there was no relevant material left that only I had access to. We would only have the book to go on from now on and really anyone who could read had access to the story._

_And with only the book left, my usefulness would be greatly reduced and that was something I did not have a problem with at all. It provided me with the perfect excuse to ask Gandalf again to send me back. I told myself that I only wanted this so badly because I didn’t want my family and friends to worry about me any longer. If however I was really honest, I would have to admit that I was only so anxious to leave because I feared to strengthen the emotional ties to the company that had already been formed._

_Looking back on it now, knowing what I know now, it seems ridiculous, pathetic even to be so frightened of strengthening those ties. But back then, when I was still hoping that Gandalf would indeed send me home, getting closer to the members of the company scared me almost more than Azog had done. Maybe it was my own foolish way of trying to protect myself from heartbreak that would doubtlessly occur when I had returned home. Keeping my distance from them was safe._

_But it was also futile, because despite my best attempts to stay away from the dwarves and hobbit, they had wriggled their way into my heart and life. The Ri brothers had even as good as adopted me. It was not that I had consented to such an action, but that seemed to be only a minor detail to them. According to them, according to their customs, I was family now, a real member of the company._

_And even I could not keep on lying to myself when the eagles finally returned, having dealt with the goblins and orcs – although Azog had escaped them, to both Thorin’s and my great disappointment – and brought us to what they called the Great Shelf where we were reunited with the others. And no matter what I wanted to feel, it felt like coming home seeing them again…_

 

It was good to have the entire company together again, Kate reflected as she sat down at the campfire Bofur and Dwalin had made. No matter what her feelings on the subject otherwise might be, she could hardly deny that it felt like a get-together of old friends that had not seen each other for years instead of only a day.

It was a relief to find that everyone had come out of the fight with nothing more than scratches, save for Thorin of course and Dwalin, who was sporting a large cut on the right side of his face. The warrior pretended that the wound did not exist and carried on as if nothing was wrong. Óin in turn had pretended not to hear Dwalin’s protests – come to think of it, he may not have heard them at all – and he had treated the injury anyway. The rest of them had come away with scratches and minor burns, but Gandalf – and Kate tried and failed to control her laughter here – was missing a large piece of his beard, courtesy of a burning pine-cone he had accidentally held too close to his face.

Darkness had fallen some time ago, but everyone had slept through the day, like she herself had, and the dwarves were happy, loud and cheerful. Bilbo seemed a bit more shaken, but even he managed to conjure up smiles and seemed to bask in the mood of general cheerfulness, even if he didn’t contribute too much to it.

The eagles had been very generous hosts to them, going out to catch some meat for the company that they could roast over the fire. This immediately put them a lot higher on the list of favourite hosts, far above the elves, who of course had only provided them with green food.

‘Kate, catch!’ Kíli shouted at her, throwing what appeared to be half the sheep at her.

It was more of a reflex than a well thought out action that allowed the advisor to catch the piece of meat before it hit her square in the face. That would have made for a very embarrassing show, one the dwarves would no doubt have enormously enjoyed. ‘Oi!’ she shouted back at him. ‘Do you really think I’m going to eat all of this?’ She sincerely hoped not anyway.

The archer shrugged. ‘Why not?’ He gave her a once over. ‘You’re all skin and bones. There was even more meat on that sheep than there is on you and Mahal knows there was not much on the poor beast either.’ The rest of the company burst out into laughter, leaving Kate to stare at them in disapproval.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my figure, thank you very much!’ she said indignantly. ‘We can’t all be as muscled as you are.’

Kíli studied her again. ‘Yes, but being that skinny can’t be healthy,’ he insisted. ‘Surely there should be more fat on you? You look like any breeze could just blow you away.’

‘That’s just the way I’m built, buffoon!’ Kate snapped. All this commentary on her physical appearance was seriously starting to bother her now. It had been annoying enough with Glóin doing it. Did the rest of them really have to join in? ‘It’s normal for a human. And that’s what I am, just in case it has somehow escaped your notice.’

‘We’d never be able to tell from those braids of yours, though,’ Bofur chimed in. There was a grin on his face that Kate did not trust at all. It made her feel as if she was missing the joke somehow and that was not a very pleasant feeling. Had she somehow been at fault allowing Thorin to fix her hair? She might well have been. There was so much that she did not know about this dwarf culture. Ori had been teaching her some things, but he could not have covered every aspect what with the limited time they’d had.

‘Something wrong with them I should have been aware of?’ she demanded sharply, a little sharper than she had intended perhaps, but that was the natural result of having one too many of these experiences. For all she knew this could be interpreted as some kind of token of affection as well, just as the coat had been, even if that had been meant as practical and not as anything else. And already half the company seemed to think Thorin and Kate were romantically involved. She could really do without the other half of them thinking it as well.

But Thorin had said that there was not much to this. If he were to be believed, friends and family did it all the time. Well, and they had agreed on being friends, so there was nothing the matter with this.

Just a second later she realised that not yet everyone was aware of this newfound friendship though. The wargs had run them down, chased them up in the trees and landed them in the fight they had only so narrowly escaped from before they’d had the time to do that. And informing the rest of the company of the changed circumstances then had not been exactly high on either of their lists of priorities.

‘It’s a normal thing to be doing among friends, is it not?’ she asked pointedly.

That got a few dwarves to stare at both Thorin and her with a look on their face as if the pair of them had just grown second heads. Really, it should not have been that much of a surprise, should it, considering that everyone here thought that they were a hell of a lot more than friends? Dwarves! There was just no pleasing them sometimes, was there?

‘And you can stop looking that sheepish!’ she snapped, feeling rather embarrassed by all this attention that she was suddenly getting. ‘They are only braids and it was practical.’ _And why on earth are you even defending yourself? It’s not like you committed a crime and the more you protest now, the more they will believe that there is indeed something going on. Get a grip, girl. You’re not some blushing teenage girl anymore._

She shrugged as if she could not care less, ignoring the muttered comments that she could not quite make out, and focused her attention on the sheep that Kíli obviously still expected her to eat in its entirety. Maybe she could subtly slip some of her portion onto Bombur’s plate. She doubted he’d mind. To be quite honest she doubted he’d even notice, come to think of it.

‘It’s good, Bombur,’ she complimented the fat dwarf, who was sitting left of her. Next to him she must really look like a skinny little thing. Maybe she should have sat herself down next to Bilbo or Gandalf.

Bombur’s face lit up as if she had just paid him the warmest of compliments. The dwarf did not have a nasty bone in his body and especially his cooking skills were appreciated by the entire company. ‘Not a problem, lass. Eat as much as you’d like.’

‘And I’ll just leave the rest to you,’ she whispered conspiratorially. ‘There’s just no way I can eat all of this.’

Fortunately he seemed to understand, nodding and smiling. ‘I won’t tell a soul,’ he promised in that same hushed tone.

‘I knew I could count on you.’ She found herself appreciating the red-headed dwarf all the more for that. She hadn’t had much contact with him thus far, but he had been one of the dwarves that had always treated her with kindness, almost right from the start. And she owed him for that. Because even though she liked the others well enough now, they had taken some time in convincing that Kate Andrews was not a complete waste of space.

The attention of the others had fortunately been diverted by Dori, who had launched into his version of the events that had taken place at the glade. His tone was a little louder than strictly necessary and Kate strongly suspected him of deliberately drawing the attention away from her. He had interfered the previous day as well when he had noticed she was uncomfortable. She would really miss that older brother type when she returned home. There was just no helping it, as much as she hated that thought.

But now was not really the time to be sad. It was hard anyway to be anything but cheerful and happy when surrounded by all these happy persons. Maybe she could just leave her worries till the morning and just enjoy the celebrations – for that was what they were – while they lasted. For just this once she could allow herself to be part of the group, could she not? It would be a memory to take back home with her once she left.

‘You didn’t do half-bad in the fight, lass,’ a voice suddenly commented when Kate was just dumping what was left of her sheep on Bombur’s plate. It almost felt like she was committing a crime now – and Kíli would certainly treat it as one should he catch her in the act – and therefore she felt startled more than usual when she heard someone talk to her. It was however only Dwalin that had addressed her, looking at her with what appeared to be genuine amusement.

‘Dwalin,’ she acknowledged coolly. She had not yet forgotten how unkind he had been to her at the goblin’s front gate and later near the back door as well. ‘What is it you want?’ Kate was fully aware that this was rude, but she could not bring herself to care. He had not exactly been polite towards her either.

If the warrior had noticed the tone at all, he did not show it. He seated himself down next to her right on the spot Bofur had just vacated. Where he had gone off to, Kate did not know, but she passionately wished he would have waited another few minutes. ‘You did remarkably well in the fight,’ Dwalin repeated. ‘And you took great personal risk to save Thorin when I could not. I may not like you or the reason you are here, but I’m in your debt.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘I will no longer bother you as I did before.’

Kate’s eyebrows were already halfway her forehead before the full meaning of his words registered in her mind. This was about her “rescuing” Thorin. She had already known that Dwalin was loyal to his king before anything else, but it would seem she had underestimated what the consequences of that loyalty were. She now doubted his dislike of her had anything to do with her personally, but more with the book and knowledge he considered a danger to king and quest.

She forced herself to nod. ‘Apology accepted.’ Because that was what this was, even if it had not been said with that many words. Being a journalist required that one could read between lines and Kate had become quite skilled at that art. ‘I should not have snapped as you as I did either.’

It was a truce of some kind, Kate figured: fragile, unspoken and quite possibly easily shattered if she did or said something Dwalin considered a danger to Thorin. But for now it was there and it gave her some breathing space. And if everything went according to plan, she would be out of this world and back in her own within days anyway. At least they would not part as enemies. That had to count for something.

Dwalin merely nodded, the issue he had wanted to discuss out of the way now. To be quite honest, Kate had no idea how to proceed. She had no idea if she even should proceed at all. Maybe Dwalin would just prefer to be left alone – not such a strange notion – but ignoring him felt rude and awkward. Ugh, she had never been that good at this whole making up and bonding thing at all.

There was however one topic that should not be a problem. ‘I was wondering about how often I should sharpen my sword,’ she ventured, hoping that this was not some kind of big mistake to make. For all she knew he didn’t want her to talk to him at all.

But fortunately Dwalin seemed to recognise the olive branch when it was offered to him. He half turned and took the sword without question, studying it. ‘It’s an elvish blade, lass,’ he told her.

Kate bit her lip. ‘Am I supposed to know what this means?’

Bofur, who had just returned and now squeezed himself between them, shot her a quizzical look. ‘Are there no elvish blades where you come from?’

‘There are no elves at all, never mind their blades,’ Kate replied. It would probably not do to inform them that her world lacked a lot of things that were commonplace here. They could never understand without seeing it for themselves and Kate was not in a hurry to keep explaining things to them anyway.

‘Sounds like heaven,’ Kíli commented.

The advisor seriously doubted that, since there were no dwarves around there either and that piece of knowledge was bound to dampen the archer’s spirit, but she refrained from commenting. Instead she opted on returning her attention to the blade. ‘So, what does it mean, that this is an elvish blade?’

‘Won’t need sharpening much,’ Dwalin replied, handing the weapon back to her. He spoke those words as if he was very displeased with that.

‘Well, that’s… good,’ she said, not entirely sure that this was the right thing to say.

Fortunately Balin chose that moment to join the conversation. He leaned in front of his brother and beckoned at the sword. ‘You should name it,’ he told her.

Kate felt her forehead wrinkle in confusion. ‘It’s a companion sword to Orcrist, right?’ That was some piece of knowledge she could really have done without, since it always seemed to confirm what some people were already thinking. ‘So it’s positively antique. Don’t you think it already has a name?’

Balin shrugged, wholly unconcerned. ‘If it has, then we have no way of learning it.’

‘Blades do get renamed sometimes,’ Ori chimed in. If anyone could make that claim with unquestioned authority, it would be the company’s scribe. He had told her not that long ago that he had some interest in famous weapons and their histories, even if he would probably never be able to wield arms quite that well himself.

‘If you say so,’ she said, frowning at the blade. Really, she was not even sure she wanted this sword to have a name. What did it need one for anyway? But well, it seemed to be custom around here to name the sodding things. _When in Rome, do as the Romans_.

The thing was that she had no clue as to what to call this thing. Most of the blades seemed to have elvish names, but she didn’t speak any elvish at all. A dwarvish name for an elvish sword seemed like blasphemy and her Khuzdul wasn’t that good anyway. And somehow she doubted her companions would approve of her naming the blade something along the lines of “bread knife.” Her vocabulary wasn’t too extended yet and she could do without making a complete fool out of herself.

But a sword as ancient as this did deserve some kind of heroic name and so she turned towards her knowledge about sword names from her own world. There wasn’t much that came up. Kate had liked all kinds of heroic tales, but the names of the swords had never made a permanent impression on her. There really was only one name that she had actually remembered.

She stared at the blade again. ‘Hm, how about Excalibur?’ she asked of on no one in particular. It was the name of a famous blade, a worthy name for a sword this old, she supposed. Who cared that she had not pulled it free from some lump of rock? Her companions didn’t know that.

There were some appreciating noises being made all around the fire. ‘Impressive,’ Fíli commented.

Thorin, next to him, was nodding as well, even as he had his eyes narrowed somewhat, like he was suspecting her of ulterior motives. Or maybe he was still looking a bit cross-eyed from his unfortunate run-in with the rocks of the battlefield. Kate allowed herself to think that was what it was. ‘How did you come by that name?’ he demanded.

Kate shrugged again. ‘It’s the name of a sword from a famous legend of my world,’ she clarified. _And it was the only name my brain could possibly come up with_. But there was no need to burden her companions with that piece of information. ‘I could tell you the story some time.’

That had Bofur’s face split into some massive grin. ‘We’d like a story, don’t we, lads? It’s been far too long since you read to us, Kate. Did that Narnia book of yours make it through Goblin-town?’

Thorin grumbled something along the lines of how that bag of her would even make it through a dragon’s fire, but she could have been mistaken, since he had not spoken that loud. At any rate she gave him a stern glance for good measure. He may be injured, but he would not drop dead all of a sudden because of a glower.

‘It did,’ she replied. She didn’t feel like reading a lot, but she could humour them for once. Soon enough she would be gone and they’d have to make do without it. She could leave them the book though, if they’d like. Kate could always buy herself a new copy at home and her current companions seemed to enjoy the tale. ‘My bag’s over there.’ She pointed at a point next to Glóin. ‘Toss it over, will you?’

Glóin did as she asked and threw the rucksack at her with more force than Kate deemed necessary, since it hit her right in the stomach, making her want to throw up all the meat she had just eaten. ‘Charming,’ she commented, sending a stern look in the dwarf’s direction, who at least had the decency to look a little ashamed.  ‘Where were we again?’ she wondered as she opened the book.

‘We’ve only read three chapters so far,’ Ori spoke up. Book loving dwarf that he was, it should not have been a surprise to anyone that he had been the one to remember that even with all the things that had happened since they had last done this.

‘Chapter four it is then.’ She flipped to the right page and started reading as the group quietened around her. It still felt strange to be doing this, sharing something that so clearly originated in her world, sharing it with a bunch of dwarves from another world, who didn’t know the first thing about where she had come from.

She would miss this, she knew. Part of her didn’t really want to say goodbye already either. Some of these guys had become friends, family. And that was probably the exact reason why she needed to get away from them as soon as she possibly could. The longer she stayed, the stronger the ties that bound her to Middle Earth became. And she had never been meant to remain here. There were people waiting for her at home, people who by now would be fearing her dead. It had been months since her disappearance. They must be expecting the worst by now. It made Kate feel guilty over sitting here, actually enjoying herself, while she knew her family to be worried sick. No, she could not leave them worrying any longer than necessary. And Thorin had agreed to read the book, which meant that Kate would no longer be needed. She could go home and get on with her life. And her family would no longer need to fear for her safety. _That has to be something Gandalf has never as much as thought about_ , she thought venomously. _The impact this would have on my life and the lives of my loved ones. All he cares about is the fate of his precious Middle Earth._

There were very few interruptions this time and Kate was grateful for it. She read on, hardly thinking about what it was that she was reading, until the poem jumped off the page, staring at her, confronting her.

 

_‘Make your choice, adventurous Stranger;_

_Strike the bell and bide the danger,_

_Or wonder, till it drives you mad,_

_What would have followed if you had.’_

 

Of course, this was just a piece of poetry in a story, not at all directed at her. And yet. And yet it was also a question Kate had not even been asking herself until now. She had always been thinking about the need to get back home again, worrying for all kinds of things that she could not do anything about at all at that moment in time. She had never fully embraced the idea of being on this quest with the dwarves, despite the fact that she had signed the contract.

But then, she had not wanted to embrace that idea. Her focus had been on getting home as soon as she possibly could. That had been her aim all along and the dwarves’ quest was just a means to an end to her. Gandalf had made it quite clear: she would tag along and be an advisor and then he would send her home as soon as the job was done. And so she had tagged along.

And she had not really been _with_ them until recently, she supposed. She had been an outsider; unwelcome and of little use, only there because the wizard insisted on it and it was easier to give him what he wanted than trying to argue with him – not that they had not tried. But now she had been more or less adopted – and it was probably more than less – and she had been accepted into the group.

And now this poem made her think what would happen if she chose to stay until the quest was finished. The question kept going round and round in her head until long after she had stopped reading and her companions had gone to sleep beside the dying fire. She had already established that parting from these dwarves was going to be difficult, no matter how long or short she stayed, and her family would worry about her anyway, whether she returned home tomorrow or in a few months. And she could do with a little more time to think of what she was going to tell them about her whereabouts the previous months, because that was one detail that she had not yet worked out entirely. And the truth might just not be the best option in this case, not if she did not want to get locked away in a mental asylum for the rest of her life.

 _What the hell do you think you’re doing?_ common sense demanded. _Your family’s worried sick about you and you are even seriously considering staying here, having fun? Are you totally insane?_

And that little annoying voice was right. Kate didn’t often listen to common sense, but in this case she really had to. It was downright shameful that she had even thought about this. She had to go back and that was why she violently slapped down every notion of what if, banished the sodding poem to the very back of her mind and firmly decided to sort this mess out as soon as she could.

 

***

 

Thorin could not for the life of him figure out why the poem in the story had made such a lasting impression on him. It was just a silly little piece challenging the main characters in the story to strike the bell, even if everyone with a brain knew it would be far wiser not to do so. He had scoffed at the boy’s stupidity when Kate had read it.

There was just something he could not quite put his finger on and it bothered him. Thorin was used to being on top of things, to be in control of the situation. So far that part had not really worked out at all. Things constantly seemed to be going from bad to worse, leaving the king frustrated and irritable.

 _Or wonder, till it drives you mad, what would have followed if you had_. It was the endless list of _what if_ s that was the point now, Thorin suspected. _What would have happened if I had never gone on this quest, what would have happened if I’d listened to Kate sooner, what would have happened if I…_ This list really was infinite and he blamed the book for making him doubt his own actions again.

He leaned back and folded his hands under his head, looking at the stars above him. He had slept long enough this day. Sleep would not grace him with its presence this night. And his thoughts were too restless to find any rest now anyway. He should have slapped down the notion of the advisor reading from the book again, even if its contents indeed appeared to be harmless enough. He was just reading too much into this poem. It had not even been meant in this way and he should not think that it was. And he was quite sure that Kate had not even been aware of the inner turmoil it had created.

But there had been something with her there as well. Something, the smallest flash of some undefined emotion, the barest hint of a tremor in her voice as she read those four lines, had occurred. Had Thorin not accidentally been looking in her direction already, he would have missed out on it entirely. But he had seen it and he could not help but wonder about it. Really, it was none of his business, but for now it was better to wonder about why this meant something to the advisor than to dwell on what this meant to Thorin himself.

Because it did mean something to his new friend and as a friend he was allowed to wonder about her. Moreover, she was a member of his company now, and a woman at that. Her wellbeing was his responsibility. Had Balin reacted in such a fashion, he would have asked what the matter was. Now that would not be such a good idea with the advisor, since she was more likely to bite Thorin’s head off than to give a satisfactory reply.

It was just that Thorin could not for the life of him figure what a woman such as Kate would have to regret. Her life was relatively simple, apart from the fact that she had been torn away from her home without warning. What would haunt her mind? There were no decisions of so much importance that could worry her. The woman had no idea how blessed she was in that respect.

The advisor was still up as well, standing at the very edge of the place the eagles called the Great Shelf, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, staring off into the distance. Balin’s casual remark that they had a lot in common sprang to mind. Thorin himself tended to do this when he wanted to think. For some reason his friend’s comment didn’t sit well with him. He knew the other members of the company were already speculating about a non-existent relationship and Thorin had let them, apart from the occasional stern glance when he caught them in the act.

But that Balin had also joined in the speculating about things that did not exist and, worse, did not seem to be thinking this an alarming development at all, rather something to be encouraged, that disappointed Thorin. He had hoped that at least his lifelong friend would know better.

But apparently not. In this respect it would seem that only Kate and Thorin themselves – with the possible addition of the wizard – were in the possession of some common sense. It seemed to have abandoned the others.

Those three were also the only ones to still be awake. Gandalf had seated himself some distance away, accompanied by his pipe. No surprise there. Thorin sometimes wondered if the wizard even slept at all. If that was the case, he had never been witness to it. For as long as the dwarf king had known Gandalf, he had always been awake and alert, always two steps ahead of the rest of them, and always in the good company of his smokescreen just in case someone asked him a question he did not want to answer, Thorin added wryly to himself.

His attention was drawn back to the advisor when she turned around and made her way to said wizard with long determined strides. Thorin had come to recognise that particular way of walking as a clear sign that she was on the warpath, or that she was at least expecting a rather unpleasant confrontation. That was not entirely unexpected, especially where Gandalf was concerned. And after the ordeal they had been through, it was only logical that she had some bone to pick with him. Thorin had been waiting for the moment he could do that himself as well.

‘We need to talk,’ Kate announced when she had reached Gandalf. The tone made it clear that this was not up for discussion. She remained standing too, quite possibly to be taller than the one she was talking to. When standing Gandalf towered over every member of this company, but at least for now he had to look up to the advisor. It was not a bad move, Thorin had to admit.

‘What about, dear girl?’ Gandalf inquired pleasantly. He was still merrily smoking the night away. If he was expecting a confrontation, then he wasn’t showing it.

‘About sending me back home early.’ The words came out quickly and she had her arms wrapped around herself, as if she was bracing herself for the worst.

It was very silent for what felt like a very long time. Thorin realised he had stopped breathing for a while even, although he could not for the life of him figure why. After all, it was only to be expected that Kate would want to get back home again, especially after what had happened on that burned battlefield. She had never wanted to come with them in the first place.

But he felt anger and disappointment all the same. They had agreed to be friends not two days ago. He had seriously believed that even if she was not here of her own volition, she would at least stand by them from now on, at least until the end of the quest. In a strange way Thorin felt like she had let him down. He had trusted her and she had let him down. The bile rose in his throat and it took him all he had to remain in place and listen as the conversation unfolded.

Because this made him see something else see in a different light as well. When she had asked him to read the book for himself, he had believed that from now on they would act more like allies, more like leader and advisor than they had been doing so far, no doubt exactly how Gandalf, scheming man that he was, had intended it in the first place. Now he saw her question for what it really was: a clever scheme that would allow her to return to her own world.

‘I am not sure that is in your contract,’ Gandalf replied. He was still very calm.

‘Forget the bloody contract for a moment,’ Kate snapped. ‘This isn’t about that. Listen, I convinced Thorin to read the book for himself. He will know everything that I know as well and then the company will have no further use for me. They never really had anyway.’

It was silent for a while again and the dwarf could feel his fists clench and unclench in anger. So he had been right. This really had been her plan all along. How could she? Not to him, that was not the matter really. But how could she do this to her brothers? They had only just adopted her and she really thought she could run away and leave them? Had she no sense of loyalty at all? Was she really that selfish?

‘That is not what I brought you here for,’ the wizard said. He was pointedly avoiding Kate’s gaze, looking at some point in the distance.

Well, at least that took both Thorin and Kate by surprise. ‘You didn’t?’ The advisor’s tone was instantly wary. ‘Then was all that talk about me being an advisor just a load of waffle?’

‘Dear girl, being an advisor is why you were brought here.’ Thorin would almost say that Gandalf enjoyed being so cryptic. Would it kill him to just give a straight answer just for once in his no doubt very long life?

‘Feel free to start making sense any time now.’ The way Kate spoke suggested that at the moment she would like nothing better than to throw the old man down the mountainside, a feeling Thorin recognised all too well. He had lost count of how many times he had felt like that. ‘Thorin will have access to the knowledge from the book, which was what you wanted in the first place. He is literate, you know. He can read the book himself and act on it. He doesn’t need me to read it to him.’

‘Dear, advisors cannot just run away whenever it suits them.’ Gandalf remained perfectly relaxed, studying his pipe with a devotion not often seen. ‘They advise the leaders what to do with the knowledge that is at their disposal.’

Kate growled. ‘So, we’re looking at the moral side of things now, are we? Well, then here’s another: where I come from it isn’t customary for future employers to abduct their employees from the streets, without giving them as much of a moment to say goodbye to their loved ones.’

‘I…’ Gandalf tried to interrupt.

But Kate had worked herself up into a full fit of temper and she did not give him the chance to speak. ‘No, _I_ am doing the talking now.’ This was more of an order than anything else. ‘My family is out there, waiting for any word that I might still be alive. They might even believe I am dead already! You just snatched me off the street, no witnesses, nothing! I have just vanished from that world! Just try to use your brain for once – if it’s not too addled by all that smoking you’re doing – and try to look at this with my perspective for a change!’

‘I am well aware…’ Gandalf tried again.

‘I seriously doubt that,’ Kate snapped dismissively. ‘Because if you were, you would probably have thought twice about acting the way you did. Has it even crossed your mind that I could very well die on this bloody quest? I would never be able to return home. My family would never even know what had become of me!’

That struck a chord, obviously not with Gandalf, but it did with Thorin. He didn’t really want to let it, but it did all the same. Because if there was one thing that he could understand – probably better than anyone else in the world – then it was loyalty to one’s family. For as long as he’d known Kate, he had never really realised what impact her being in Middle Earth would have on her family. He had been more concerned with the impact her presence had on his company and his quest.

The anger subsided somewhat. It was hard to remain mad when her motives for acting in such a fashion were so noble. He recalled the strange painting he had picked up from the ground in Rivendell, the one that showed Kate with her mother and brother. They had been happy, looking like they had belonged with one another. Gandalf had torn Kate away from those people and if they indeed cared for the advisor, then they would be worried for her, especially after so long a time.

Had any other of the company come to him with these motives then he would have been understanding, he knew. He’d have told them that family should always come first and that they should go right away to take care of them.

But this was a different case. Kate was someone they _needed_ on this quest, so he had come to accept, even if he had not been accepting easily or even willingly. Her leaving was not something they could afford. The others were blessedly unaware of the change she just might be able to bring about, but Thorin was not. And as frightening as it was, it was a real possibility. And he would take any opportunity to keep his company safe. That was a vow he had taken long ago. Kate might be an unconventional way, but it was a way all the same.

And it was an impossible situation, because there were two equally important matters warring for dominance here: Kate’s importance to the quest – something which Gandalf would probably rejoice about when he learned that Thorin had finally admitted to that – and Kate’s importance where she came from. Both were important and it was not easy to determine which one was more so.

But it was not within his power to grant her wish, even if he wanted to grant it. Thorin could release her, tear up her contract and tell her to go home, but in the end he did not have the power to send her back there. That was Gandalf’s prerogative and his alone. And he was glad that this decision was not his to make. Let Gandalf deal with the mess he had created. It had been his decision to involve Kate in the first place. Now it would be his problem to deal with as well. It was only fair.

‘These dwarves are quite capable of keeping you in one piece until the quest is done.’ The wizard’s face was obscured behind his smokescreen again. ‘I can guarantee you that I will send you back once this is all over.’

Kate didn’t smoke, but Thorin could still almost see the steam come out of her ears. ‘And how, pray, are you so certain of this?’ she demanded. ‘There’s just this minor complication of a dragon at the end of the road, just in case you’d somehow forgotten. What is the point of keeping me here anyway? The point still stands, you know. Thorin is actually capable of doing his reading himself.’

By now Thorin was wholly convinced that the wizard avoided meeting the advisor’s eyes on purpose. He was searching his pockets for something, leaving Kate to stare at the point of his hat. ‘Thorin is a very stubborn dwarf,’ came the reply at long last. ‘He needs someone to make him see sense every now and then, someone he cannot ignore too easily. And I’m afraid I needed someone who would not be too much in awe of his reputation to tell him the truth.’

It was like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Gandalf had guarded this secret as if his life depended on it and even now he did not part with it easily, but at long last they had now gotten an answer to the question as to why Kate Andrews out of all people had been chosen to join this company.

As much as the dwarf disliked the notion, he also knew that Kate might indeed be well qualified for the job she had been given, with Gandalf’s intentions being what they were. Kate was not a person easily ignored when she had her mind set on something. Good grief, she had indeed even made Thorin listen to her, despite the fact that he had not wanted to listen to her at all.

And he also knew that, things being the way they were, Gandalf would never let Kate leave until the quest had been finished. The dwarf king tried and failed not to feel some measure of relief over that. He still feared the book, even though he had indeed agreed to read it and learn its contents. But he also knew that he would never know it the way Kate did. She had been able to drag up pieces of information from memory, even without the source of that information within her reach. She had had years to study it. He did not have that luxury.

‘You are either brilliant or insane.’ Kate was audibly seething. She wasn’t aware that she had an audience and Gandalf appeared not to have noticed it either, which meant that neither of them was holding back. ‘You are never going to let me return home now, are you?’ Thorin could hear defeat in her voice underneath all the anger. The woman understood how things were. With it came a sadness and a disappointment that Thorin had not yet witnessed in her before, not even that first night in Bag End. She must really have hoped for the wizard to let her go.

‘Your work here is not quite finished,’ Gandalf replied, still not meeting her eyes.

‘You _bastard_!’ Those two words were growled with all the loathing and anger that the advisor could muster. Thorin saw her turn on her heels and march back to her previous spot, but it didn’t take her long to crumble and fall to her knees. Her sobs reached Thorin’s ears before he could wonder what had happened to her.

For some reason it made him want to hit the wizard for making his new friend cry. And he could not for the life of him understand why he would want to do that.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _And to think that it was my stubbornness and big mouth that got me into this mess. Of all the explanations I could have possibly come up with, this has never once been an option._


	28. Descending

_I was on the verge of knocking that bloody wizard off the Great Shelf and down the mountain and it took me all the self-control I possessed not to make good on it. That would have created some problems and I wasn’t feeling like explaining the sudden loss of the wizard to my companions. Having said that, if he were to fall of his own volition, I would not have been too bothered right away._

_While part of me was relieved to finally learn why Gandalf had chosen me for the job, this also made me want to hit him more. To learn that it had been my temper of all things was what had made him think that I would be best suited for the job had me speechless for a moment, a rare thing for me as you all know. I had come up with explanations of my own and most of them had involved qualities like me knowing the book and me being able to at least know how to handle a camping trip. But none of those things had made complete sense, because there were so many others where I came from who had those qualities as well and would probably be good at fighting on top of that. But no, the thing that apparently set me apart from all those people was the fact that I had a sharp tongue that was supposed to make Thorin see sense._

_Now there was something that almost had me laughing, because no one can make Thorin see sense unless he wants it to. That’s one thing I’ve learned in all those years that I know him, but even then I had already come to see that changing a dwarf’s mind was nigh impossible. When they don’t want to listen, they just ignore you and pretend you have never even spoken in the first place._

_But anger was not what I felt most of all as I stalked off. It was disappointment. Gandalf’s reply was not even that unexpected, and yet I had hoped. To see all those hopes crushed was as if the ground had suddenly disappeared from under my feet. Because I had meant what  had told Gandalf: I wanted to go back home, stop my family from worrying. Getting out of this world before all hell could break loose was just an added bonus. I had not thought about home as much as I had done before – being chased by goblins and orcs has the tendency to push that kind of concerns to the back of one’s mind – but I knew they still had to worry. I knew my mother and brother and they would fret, no doubt about it._

_But going home was off the agenda for at least some months to come and that was something I had to accept. And I’d rather die than let my companions see my distress and so I made sure I had myself firmly under control again come morning. I would just have to keep myself out of trouble for a little longer and really, how hard could that be? I didn’t have to go near that dragon and if I understood my companions at all, they would not let me come within a mile of any battle, never mind such a one as the Battle of the Five Armies. I should be perfectly safe, I told myself._

_However, I changed my mind on that account when Gandalf told us over breakfast that we would be brought a little further by the eagles…_

 

The company advisor had paled visibly when the wizard informed the company that the eagles had been offering to take them all down to a point somewhere below. Thorin had been quick to accept the offer. Climbing down from this place would not be easy, could be impossible even, and the help was more than welcome. And he was not unaware of the fact that summer was passing them by rapidly. Durin’s Day was drawing ever closer and they would need to make haste if they wanted to reach the Mountain in time.

Some of Thorin’s confidence in the quest had been restored, he had found some time ago. Kate’s book had proven to be a valuable asset to the quest, as had the advisor herself in some ways. And maybe the fact that they were all still alive and more or less in one piece that fed his optimism. In the light of a new day with help offered to them, things did not look as glum anymore as they had when he had been facing Azog.

That had presumably not the wisest thing to be thinking about right now. His injuries were now itching more than they were painful – some salve Óin had applied to it last night must be to blame for that – but his breathing was still not as easy as it had been before, even if he had been careful to keep that information from the others. It wouldn’t do to be seen weak and there were others who needed the help more than he did.

But his injuries were not the worst thing. What haunted Thorin’s mind were the memories themselves. Azog’s vile words and threats still echoed in his thoughts: insults about his father and grandfather that had made Thorin want to forget everything he had ever learned about being careful, threats about what he would do with the company once he got his hands on them – something the Pale Orc had never doubted would happen eventually – and taunts about what he would do to the woman, informing Thorin that he would make him watch.  The helplessness and anger he had experienced were still trying to make him doubt what he was doing all over again. Azog’s attack had made him realise that it was simply not within his power to keep everyone safe, because he could not be in multiple places at the same time. His hands clenched into fists again.

‘Not looking forward to our little flying trip, I take it?’ The voice of the advisor dragged him back to the here and now. She was giving him an inquisitive look, even as her face still was paler than could be healthy and she gave the impression of going to throw up any second now.

He favoured her with a scowl. ‘Whatever gave you that impression?’

‘You’re looking at the eagles as if they have personally offended you,’ Kate pointed out. ‘That kind of gave it away.’

She had completely misread the situation, but Thorin was not about to set her right this time. These burdens were his to bear and no one else’s. Instead he settled for deflecting the question. ‘Are you afraid of flying, Miss… Kate?’ He had called her Miss Andrews for too long to be sure. It was a habit that would be difficult to get rid of.

‘You would be when you had been awake during our trip this way,’ the advisor shot back immediately. ‘Do you have any idea what a long way you would have fallen if that feather ball had accidentally let go? You’d be dead by now. Hard dwarven bones or no, I do not think anyone would survive such a fall.’ The fear was clearly genuine, which surprised the dwarf. She had not shown any fear of heights before now, not even during the thunder battle when they had been too close to the ravine for anyone’s peace of mind.

But all in all she seemed calm, too calm perhaps. Thorin had been awake all night, sleep eluding him as he had already feared. Kate had cried for a long time after Gandalf had turned down her request to send her home. Eventually she had gone to her bedroll, but he doubted she’d slept much.

Thorin wasn’t sure whether to be understanding of her desire to go home or to be mad at her for scheming to get away from the company. Those two warred for dominance and until he had come to a decision on the subject himself, it was probably a subject best avoided. Yes, he did understand the need to put her family’s minds at ease, but the fact that she had been trying to abandon this quest and her newfound family in the process made him almost forget about that. Thorin valued loyalty almost above everything else and if anything, Kate had just proven that she did not. No matter what her reasons were for acting as she did, Thorin found he could not approve of it.

But until he had decided what to do with this – after all, he had not even been meant to hear that particular conversation – he could best keep quiet about it. ‘I do not think the eagles will let you fall,’ he told the advisor.

‘Won’t they?’ Kate muttered darkly under her breath, stealing a suspicious glance at one of them.

Thorin decided it was not worth his time debating over. He had more pressing concerns than Kate’s fear of flying. He would admit – but only to himself mind – that he wasn’t really looking forward to flying himself, but her behaviour was exaggerated. Dwarves were creatures that preferred living underground, that preferred to have their feet firmly on the ground. Losing contact with said ground made Thorin more or less uneasy and he could see that he was not alone in that. From all his companions only Gandalf was perfectly at ease, but that was not even a surprise anymore. It had become customary for the wizard to love all the things Thorin hated.

Eagles were coming in now to pick up his company. They were allowed to climb on the birds’ backs, provided they did not pull out any feathers, to sit between their wings. Gandalf had already secured himself a place, following the proceedings with a serene smile, or as serene as he could manage with that burnt beard of his. Surely he must know that dwarves would be the last creatures who would appreciate this manner of transport? Then how could he sit there and treat this as if it was nothing of real importance?

But they were dwarves and they would not show their fear. It was an unspoken and unwritten rule. Even the hobbit seemed to handle it well enough. He even seemed to take some pleasure in it, which could not be said for the advisor. She had her hands clenched around the bag that she clutched to her chest as if it was the only thing that kept her alive. Dori was trying to persuade her to climb on, but he wasn’t having much success so far.

Thorin marched over to them. ‘What is going on here?’ he demanded.

‘I’ve decided to walk down,’ Kate announced. ‘I am not flying.’

‘I’m trying to convince my sister to climb on the eagle’s back,’ Dori said at the same time.

And this was really not the time for Kate to remember that she had a dislike of flying. They had to be going and if Thorin knew Dori at all, he would rather try to gently persuade his adopted sister to get on the eagle and that was something they did not have the time for right now.

‘Leave it to me, Dori,’ he told the grey dwarf. This was more of an order than anything else and it should be clearly audible.

Dori’s reply was a wary look. Being the fussy man that he was he probably already suspected that Thorin’s idea of persuading Kate did not consist of gentle coaxing. And in that assumption he would be right. The dwarf king felt like picking the advisor up, swinging her over his shoulder and carry her over to the eagle if that was the quickest way to go about this. And Dori was bound not to approve of such methods where his family was concerned. Thorin just so happened to also be the leader of this company – even if Gandalf seemed to have forgotten about that – and Dori would not defy his orders in a hurry.

It didn’t stop him from giving Thorin a very warning glance before he stalked off. It was the look that said that Thorin was going to regret his actions if he as much as thought about being unkind to Kate. It was no less than Thorin expected from him, but he secretly wondered if Dori would still be so protective of her when he learned that Kate had been meaning to leave them, quite possibly without as much as a goodbye.

‘What is this?’ he demanded of the advisor.

‘I don’t like flying, is all,’ came the reply, even if her facial colour suggested that dislike was something of an understatement. Thorin half-expected her to faint any moment now. ‘I’ll be fine if I just walk down.’

‘That will cost us valuable time,’ Thorin felt obliged to point out. ‘And time is something that is in short supply here. You will get up that eagle now.’

At least he had triggered her anger now. ‘You’re in a bright mood,’ she observed venomously. ‘What on earth caused that?’

 _Your scheming_. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back, meeting her eyes with as cold a stare as he could muster. ‘You are stalling, Kate,’ he told her, only just being able to refrain from calling her Miss Andrews as he had done before. But somehow that would be appropriate to address her as such, because her actions had spoken for themselves. Friends would not walk out when it suited them. And she may not have done so, but that was not by her own choice. And it was the intention that counted. ‘I will give you one last chance to go of your own volition or I’ll have to carry you.’

Only a fool would miss out on the warning glance in her eyes. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

Thorin took that as a challenge. He picked her up and swung her over his shoulder as if she was a piece of luggage before she even got the chance to realise what was happening. Doubtlessly Dori and Nori would see fit to scold him for this maltreatment of their sister later, but Thorin could not be less concerned about that. Kate herself struggled, but to no avail. Thorin was much stronger than she was and her attempts felt feeble to him.

‘Put me down, you hairy buffoon!’ The words were somewhat muffled because she was positioned so that her face was pressed into the fur of his coat.

Thorin ignored her, carrying her up the eagle. Only when he had her where he wanted her he set her down. ‘Can you carry us both?’ he demanded of the bird. Someone had to make sure that she did not climb back off again, or that she fell off when she fainted.

He was rewarded with a dignified nod of the eagle’s head. ‘That will not present any problem,’ he informed the dwarf. ‘The woman hardly weighs anything.’

‘Charming,’ Kate commented, but it was more bravado now than actual anger. The anger seemed to have remained on the ground. Thorin was still in the process of steadying her and he felt her trembling, her face ashen white. Seeing her like that made it hard to maintain his anger. She just looked lost now, lost and scared, far away from everything and everyone she knew. Thorin would almost pity her. But not quite, because he was unable to forget the conversation he had overheard only last night.

The eagle turned his head around, an amused expression in his huge eyes. ‘I will not let you fall, young one. There will be no need for your fear. I will carry you safely to your destination.’

‘You’d better,’ the advisor muttered. Presumably this was meant as a threat, but it came out sounding much more like a question than anything else.

‘You may turn me into a pillow should I fail to make good on my promise,’ the eagle said. He let out a sound that might well be intended as laughter, as if this was some kind of a joke Thorin did not understand.

But it did produce some kind of smile on Kate’s face. ‘I might hold you to that.’

The eagle laughed again and then took off, causing Kate to grip the feathers in front of her as if her very life depended on it. Thorin himself did not like the movements either. The eagle’s flight reminded him of a small boat on stormy waters. He had that particular experience several times, but he had not liked it any better than he liked this. Dwarves were just not meant to be in the air or on water. They needed to have the solid ground beneath their feet to feel secure. And it would seem that the advisor didn’t feel any differently about the matter.

To distract himself Thorin inquired what the threat with the pillow came from. He had been wondering about this anyway and it had the added bonus of distracting both of them from this unpleasant flying experience.

Kate bit her lip. ‘I may or may not have threatened to turn him into a pillow if he so much as thought about dropping me when he took us from the battlefield.’ She was staring right ahead, still pale, but also a little ashamed it would seem.

It didn’t take too much effort for Thorin to piece it all together. The eagle presumably had done something Kate had not at all been pleased with, causing her to utter such a threat, quite possibly during the flight. That was the only time she could have done so, since that was the only time the dwarf had been unconscious. All the other times he had seen the eagles nothing untoward had occurred or he would have heard about it.

He shook his head. This woman really was a walking and breathing contradiction, a riddle wrapped up in a mystery and he could not sound her out. This was the woman who had run at Azog calling him a bastard even when she had no fighting skills to speak of. She had also threatened a mighty eagle in full flight, when there was every chance said eagle would just drop her. Kate had also been the one to see to Thorin’s wounds before they could the chance to infect – for which Óin had loudly and extensively praised her – even when she was almost dropping from exhaustion. Yet this was also the woman who was afraid of flying and who planned to abandon them all, as if none of her companions even mattered to her. That behaviour was so contradictory and Thorin could not for the life of him understand how one person could do such different things.

And it made it very difficult for him to determine what to feel, what to think, what to do. Part of him still wanted to tear up her contract and send her on her way. If she did not want to be here, in spite of having family among their number, then Thorin would not even want to have her within this company. Such a member was unreliable and would run at the first sight of trouble and that was something he could really do without.

Except that Kate had not run at the first sight of trouble. She had done exactly the opposite. Instead of running away when she had the chance on the battlefield, she had remained, had run back even to save Thorin from Azog when he was not capable of defending himself. She had risked her life for him and for that he owed her. No, the strange thing about this was that Kate had not shown any signs of wanting to run away until they were out of trouble.

And to complicate things even further Thorin also understood her desire to leave. She was not doing this for herself – or at least that was not the entire reason why she was doing this – but she was acting as she did because she wanted to reassure her family and that was something Thorin could understand better than most people alive. He could relate to her in that respect and because of that, he found himself incapable of condemning her actions entirely.

‘You threatened a flying eagle to turn him into a pillow while he was having you in his talons and could drop you at a moment’s notice?’ Thorin forced himself to keep his mind on the here and now and wait till he had both feet firmly on the ground again before he would address the issue of Kate’s motives.

She was still looking right ahead, but she tensed a little. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’ The words came out curtly and dismissively, making it clear that she had no wish to discuss this matter. ‘And you would have done the same if said eagle had suddenly dropped several metres.’

Thorin doubted that, but he let it be for the moment. The eagle had started to gain height slowly and it took most of his attention to keep both of them in place. An eagle’s back was not the ideal place to steady oneself and the fact remained that Kate was unhealthily pale. The dwarf had still not dismissed the notion that she could pass out here and now whenever she got too frightened and therefore he made sure to hold on to her waist. The gesture felt uncomfortably intimate and he could tell that the advisor did not appreciate it either. She tensed under his hands and seemed to shy away from him, even if there was nowhere to go. But he’d rather feel uncomfortable now than have her pass out and fall later. He had made it his personal responsibility that she would come out of this quest alive and that was a vow he would uphold if he could.

They were silent for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts. It was only when an annoyed eagle turned his head and addressed the advisor that he was snapped out of it. ‘Don’t pinch, little fledgling,’ he chastised. ‘You need not be frightened like a rabbit. It is a fair morning with little wind and what is finer than flying on such a day?’

‘I can think of a number of things!’ Kate retorted. ‘And all of them require having solid ground under my feet. And can you please watch where you’re bloody well going?’ she added when the eagle continued to look at her. The anger seemed to control the fear and nausea she appeared to be experiencing and once again Thorin wondered if she happened to get her energy from anger. It would make for a logical explanation. The way she was acting now would suggest that, at least for this moment, she had forgotten about her fear, all her attention taken up by the irritation that was visible on her face.

‘Look ahead, little one,’ the eagle said, its head still turned in their direction. ‘Tell me what you see.’

‘Follow your own advice,’ Kate muttered almost inaudibly. Thorin only heard her because he was so close to her. ‘Sky?’ she ventured then in reply to the eagle’s request. ‘And clouds and more sky?’ The advisor seemed to be doing her best not to look down, even as it would make sense for the eagle to point out something that was below them.

Their mount – even if that word somehow seemed wholly inappropriate – laughed again. ‘Look better, little one. Look to the east and tell me what you see there.’

Kate didn’t give the impression that she wanted to look, but Thorin’s interest was piqued now. He carefully leaned around Kate, searching the eastern horizon in search of what the eagle had indicated. At first he saw nothing more than what Kate had already mentioned. But he looked harder and he saw a forest in the distance. It spread out from north to south as far as the eye could see. Mirkwood, a soft voice whispered in the back of his mind.

And then he caught on. Because if that was Mirkwood he was seeing, then he also knew what was lying behind it. He strained his eyes a little further and looked better now, beyond the dark spot that infernal wood was in this light and from this height and found what he was looking for. And instantly his heart was soaring and he could feel his mouth curl in a relieved smile.

‘Erebor,’ he whispered.

 

***

 

‘Erebor,’ Thorin said softly.

If Kate had not been sitting on the back of a flying eagle she would have swivelled around to look at him in confusion. The dwarf king sounded almost peaceful now where he had been grumpy and irritable only minutes before. His voice was filled with a mixture of wonder and joy, but beneath it Kate detected a sadness and a longing that was so old that she could not ever hope to understand.

She half-turned to look at him, hoping and praying that Thorin had not forgotten that he was supposed to keep her from falling. What she saw on his face was what had been suggested by the tone in his voice, so she found. Thorin was not the man to show his emotions easily, but in this moment he seemed to have forgotten about that entirely. He was even smiling and Kate could count the times she had seen that sight on the fingers of one hand. And she would still have fingers to spare.

It also told her how much the Lonely Mountain meant to the dwarf, as nothing else could have done. Before now she had known that this quest was important to him, else he would not have taken the risk at all, because trying to defeat a dragon with so few a number was foolish indeed. But in the time that she had been here she had mostly seen him worry for his company. Thorin just did not show what he felt very often, but by the looks of things now this was a sight for sore eyes to him, something he had longed to see for a long time.

Hiding feelings was definitely not one of his main concerns now. The expression on his face had softened, making him look years younger. For once he didn’t look like he had the weight of the world resting upon his shoulders. And it had all been brought on by the sight of that silhouette on the horizon. Kate turned back and looked at it herself. There wasn’t very much to see. The Mountain was still a long way off and they would face quite a few more dangers before they would reach it, but the shape was there and it was recognisable.

‘That’s the Lonely Mountain,’ the eagle confirmed. Thank God that he was looking right ahead again, because Kate had gotten rather uneasy when his head had been turned. Of course there were no planes or other moving objects that they could collide with at this distance, but still. ‘It is still a good few days flight from where we are now.’

‘And more days walk than fly, I’d say,’ Thorin muttered. He had yet to take his eyes off the Mountain. The joy had faded somewhat, only to be replaced by what looked like fierce longing.

‘You couldn’t just fly us there, could you?’ Kate ventured.  The idea had just popped up in her head and while unlikely, they’d never know for certain if they did not ask. And the eagles flying them to their destination would not only save them from a lot of walking, Thranduil’s dungeons and some really nasty spiders – and the thought of those alone was enough to make Kate shudder – but it would also mean that they would be at the Mountain long before Durin’s Day, giving them the opportunity to find the secret door.

The eagle just laughed again. ‘I am not a horse, little fledgling.’

‘And no one in his senses would ever mistake you for one,’ Kate muttered.

The eagle continued as if he had not heard her, which was probably for the best, since she figured he might not appreciate the remark that much. ‘And we have a duty to keep the goblins in check.’

‘Just in case they feel like getting mischievous again, I bet.’ Kate could understand that. In the book there had been something about the eagles owing Gandalf a debt, which they chose to repay by saving the company from the orcs. But according to the book they were not so anxious to go anywhere near human settlements for fear of getting shot. Well, she could understand that – having no ambition to get shot herself – but it was a shame that they would still need to walk all the way to the Lonely Mountain.

The eagle was starting to circle down and Kate gripped the feathers a little tighter. She was careful not to rip them out, but she wasn’t in a hurry to fall off because she had not held on tight enough. Thorin’s hands still had her waist in their grip, but Kate thought it best not to rely on that too much. She did not believe that the dwarf would let go of her, but right now he was very distracted by the sight of his Mountain. Kate guessed she could have detonated a bomb next to him and he would not have noticed.

And the attitude was entirely alien to her. Of course she understood the wish to be home. That same wish had caused her to clash with Gandalf so spectacularly only last night. But she doubted she would ever look at her home with such fierce longing, like it was the anchor preventing her from drifting off. Because that was what it appeared to be for Thorin.

Maybe she would look that way too if it had been her home that been invaded by a furnace with wings, as Bofur had so eloquently phrased it. The dwarves had not discussed it too much, but Balin had told some things, enough to make Kate understand how terrible it truly had been.

 _Really, it can’t be that bad to just lend them a hand now, can it?_ Kate had no idea where that little voice came from, but she hated it already. It threatened to undermine her resolve to do anything in her power to go home early, to get out of Middle Earth before she could form attachments that were too strong to forget in a hurry. It would only end up in pain and heartache and that she really could do without.

 _It’s also the coward’s way out_ , the voice spoke up again. The journalist strongly suspected that it was common sense rearing its ugly head again. It had been blessedly quiet of late, but it sure as hell was making up for it now. And why did it have to make so much sense all the time? Kate had never pictured herself as too much of a coward. In arguments she tended to meet her opponent head on. Fights with swords were a little different, but she could at least say that she had not run from Azog and that had to count for something. Her personal life however was not that well in terms of being brave. Running away from problems, so her mother had told her, might seem like the easy way, but it was never the right one. And Kate didn’t like what her current attitude said about her, not at all.

 _Gandalf is never going to let you go back before the quest has been completed_ , the voice chimed in, almost cheerful. _So this debate with me is pointless either way_.

Now there was something that did make sense, maybe the most of all. In the end it came down to Gandalf choosing when or even if she would be allowed to return home and last night had proven to her that she had absolutely no say in the matter whatsoever. And Gandalf would not let her go back before this quest had been completed to his full satisfaction if his reasons for bringing Kate here were as he had told her. To think that he had chosen her of all people only because she would not be afraid to tell Thorin that he was being a right royal imbecile half of the time! Well, at least that assessment had been more or less spot on. Kate could all too easily imagine the number of people of her world who would be far too impressed by him to even as much as think about telling him that he was making a mistake, or who would be too busy fangirling over him, she added to herself with a wry smile.

Well, at least that was one thing she would not be doing anytime soon. Really, she doubted anyone in their senses would after being confronted with this grumpy dwarf with mood swings. But for all his annoying behaviour, they had agreed to be friends, no matter how unlikely that friendship even was. She would act on it, she had decided, especially now that she was not going home anytime in the foreseeable future. She was doomed to share the entire quest with this company, so it would seem. Gandalf at least had been adamant about that and the wizard was nothing if not a very stubborn man. He may accuse Thorin and her of having thick skulls – and maybe they had – but Gandalf was at least as bad as they were in that respect. Oh, no doubt he was doing this for the good of Middle Earth and that was also the one reason why she had not given into her urge to throw him down the mountain. He was almost impossible to really hate.

Kate recalled the poem she had read to the company. She tried not to, but the harder she tried, the more insistent those words seemed to become, trying to make themselves heard. _Or wonder, till it drives you mad, what would have followed if you had_. It would seem that she was bound to find out what would happen if she stayed anyway, because there was no real choice in the matter. But she also found that she wasn’t that opposed to staying, not if she was really honest with herself. It had mostly been fear that had made her pursue the quest of going home again so fiercely.

Now that there really did not seem to be a choice anymore, her mind seemed awfully bent on pointing out the advantages of this arrangement. She would get to spend more time with her new family and friends – because she would only be fooling herself if she tried to say that they were anything less than that – and maybe, just maybe, she could put her knowledge to good use. It was ambitious perhaps, but it would give her purpose here, a task. She could rise above being a burden if she accepted the role Gandalf intended for her to fill.

The advisor was reminded of something Thorin had said to her, shortly before they had decided to become friends. _There is no use in fighting_ , he had said. And maybe he was right there. Up till now Kate always had this feeling that she was fighting her way upstream in a river with a strong current. That road was hard. She had to fight for every step. And for every step she made in the right direction, she had to take two steps back. It would be so much easier to just let the current take her where it wanted her to go, because it would mean her life would be so much easier.

‘You are quiet,’ Thorin remarked after some time. ‘Are you unwell?’

She frowned. Since when did Thorin Oakenshield care about her wellbeing? Oh, well, he had always done, even when he had not liked her personally. Come to think of liking in general, Kate wasn’t even sure he did now. She supposed he did at least a little, since he had been the one to propose friendship.

‘Just thinking,’ she replied, although his question brought the fact that she was still seated on a flying eagle back to the forefront of her mind. ‘And thanks so very much for reminding me. I really could have done without that.’

The eagle was descending in earnest now. While this was definitely a good thing, it did nothing to soothe her stomach. Kate was pretty sure all this flying fear was something of her own mind and that was what her stomach reacted to, but it did not make the nausea go away. But she was not going to be seen throwing up on the back of an eagle. He would surely not thank her for that, that much was for sure. And Kate did not have a death wish, none whatsoever.

Thorin seemed to sense that. She could feel him push himself away from her a little, even if his hands remained where they had been for the duration of the flight. If this had been a normal situation, Kate was pretty sure she would start to find it awkward by now.

‘I am not going to vomit anytime soon,’ she said, trying and failing to sound indignant. He was probably right to fear that she would throw up and she knew it.

‘What were you thinking about?’ Thorin’s voice was calm. The advisor could still hear the peaceful tone in it. Seeing his ancestral home really had made quite an impression on him. And because it made such an impression on her new friend, it did on her as well. For some reason it made her see him in a different light. A few days ago she would have disliked the very thought of there being a nicer, nobler side to Thorin than just the grumpy and short-tempered leader of the company, but that was just her own dislike of like him. _Guess that fanfictions are not all wrong about him after all, even if most of them still are a load of nonsense._

‘Home,’ she replied. ‘And the uselessness of fighting.’ She was not in a hurry to explain this to him in its entirety, especially not when she was not sure what she had even decided to do just now, but she would not lie to him either. Friends did not do that. And Thorin and Kate may be the most unconventional and unorthodox of friends, but they were friends all the same. And she had still to determine how that had even happened in the first place. Because back home she did not have any friends that were somewhat nice, only to snap at her the very next second. She would not have put up with it. And neither did she believe that Thorin’s idea of friendship consisted of having his friends yell at him at least twice a day.

Something told her he understood what she was talking about anyway, even without her having to spell it out for him. It was as unnerving as it was reassuring. Kate had not realised how much she missed having someone around who understood her as completely as this dwarf seemed to be doing. Her first reaction was to shy away from it, to hide behind some mask or other, but that would be the easy way. And Kate Andrews was not known for taking the easy way.

‘It’s just useless to fight,’ she repeated, not even sure why she was explaining this to him any further. Maybe it was just because it was easier to talk to him when she could not see his face. That would have to be it, she supposed. ‘And well…’ She hesitated here. ‘You really want your home back, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ The reply was hardly audible over the noise of the eagle’s wings, but he was so close she could hear it anyway. There was a world of longing, heartache and grief in that one simple word and it made Kate realise just how much Erebor meant to Thorin, better than a thousand words could have ever done.

Kate forced herself to shrug as if it was no big deal at all. ‘Well, let’s take it back then, shall we?’

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _I do not think I will ever be able to understand this woman. Only last night she begged Gandalf to let her leave, but today she seems determined to stay. What does she want?_


	29. Schemes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers. Just a fair warning in advance, this chapter is a monster, the longest I have ever written, I think, and I’m not quite sure how that even happened.  
> On another note, I had some people wonder if I would stop now, because it’s the end of the first movie. The answer to that is no, I’m not going to do that. I’ve got more than enough ideas to continue this story on book and imagination alone. So, I hope you’ll enjoy the ride.

_The eagles dropped us off at the Carrock, as I knew the name of the rock was. I recognised it instantly from the movie. At least I got the satisfaction of seeing a few flabbergasted faces when I blurted out the name of the place before Gandalf before they remembered that this might well be something straight out of the book in my backpack. Not that they knew that said book was even there and really, I wasn’t in a hurry to have them find out. Kíli was already overly enthusiastic. And in a way his enthusiasm hurt, because I knew what the book said about his fate at the end of the quest, and it was just too painful to think about._

_Fortunately I had distraction near at hand. Gandalf was announcing in book-style that he would lead us to Beorn – not that he used the name at the time. The wizard seemed to take great pleasure in copying the lines from the book at times. Sometimes I could swear that he did it on purpose, because he knew the book as well as I did. For some reason this annoyed me. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that he knew the book, but had so far failed to act on it, or that was what I thought then anyway._

_Something had changed during that flight on the eagle, and I was not yet sure what it was. I still was extremely pissed off with that bloody wizard for manipulating me and small part of me even wished that it had not just been his beard that had gotten burnt. But another part of me had realised that fighting him wasn’t going to do me any favours either. Maybe I had needed that argument to make me fully accept my presence here. It still did not mean that I liked being with the dwarves on the quest, but it did mean that I could resign myself to it, because there didn’t seem to be a list of other options for me._

_Therefore the mention of visiting Beorn was a welcome one. We had been able to take some of our supplies with us from Goblin-town, unlike in the book and movie, and there were some left-overs from dinner, but all in all our supplies were running low. So I was definitely not protesting when we left the Carrock and descended towards the river…_

 

It was going to be another warm summer’s day, Kate could tell. It was still early morning, but already it was too warm for her cloak. It seemed to be hotter on this side of the mountains than it had been on the western side of them.

The dwarves were completely unbothered by the heat, or so it would seem. Thorin was even wearing that stupid fur-lined coat of his. Kate would feel criminally overheated with that on, but the dwarf didn’t even sweat. Lucky him.

Gandalf was leading them down to some ford or other, marching cheerfully at the head of the column, conveniently forgetting that he was not the leader of this company, again. His pipe had made it through Goblin-town, as had his altogether large supply of pipe-weed, and he was merrily smoking the morning away. Kate wondered if someone had ever told him about the risks of smoking for one’s health, but she seriously doubted it. Or maybe, being a wizard, he was just immune to the effects. She would not put it past him.

‘Mister Gandalf, could we not stop at the river for a while for a quick swim?’ Dori spoke up when the Anduin came into sight. ‘We would all be grateful for a chance to clean ourselves a bit.’

Thorin sent Dori a scowl because the question had not been directed at him, but both wizard and dwarf pretended not to see. Gandalf was looking thoughtful and not at all in favour of that idea. ‘We need to move on, Master Dwarf,’ he replied.

Kate frowned as well. The chance to wash and clear the orc blood and filth of Goblin-town off her skin was tempting to say the least. And if she recalled her book well, they had stopped to bathe in the river. And surely Gandalf must know that. ‘And how would our host like it if we showed up on his doorstep looking like a bunch of filthy beggars?’ she chimed in. She may have accepted that she was here now, but that did not quite mean that she was ready to put up with Gandalf’s every whim, because if that was what he thought was going to happen, he’d have another thing coming. ‘If I remember that book correctly, he doesn’t like beggars very much. And we would like to make a good first impression, would we not?’

Thorin’s smirk told her he knew exactly what she was doing. Whatever seemed to have bothered him that morning, it would appear that it had been solved. At any rate he seemed to be approving of what she was doing right now. She had a feeling he didn’t like the wizard very much either, which would mean that Gandalf was only here because the presence of a wizard could be very useful when one was intending to go up against a dragon.

Gandalf sent her a glare, but he was apparently not intending to go up against thirteen hopeful dwarves, human and hobbit and so he gave in. ‘Well, if we can make this as quick as can be,’ he allowed. But Kate was not fooled. It was not him that was allowing anything here.

They made a small camp near the river bank. Kíli and Ori were already stripping, running towards the water before Dori called them out. ‘You cannot undress in the presence of a lady!’ he snarled at the younger dwarves as if they had been school boys caught doing something very illegal.

Kate herself chuckled at the notion of her being a lady. The two looked rather ashamed and that actually made her giggle. Really, did they think she would be that easily scandalised? ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she told them. ‘I’m not that easily shocked, believe me. You can go right ahead. This lady here is going to take her bath a little further upstream.’ She was already gathering her belongings. Thank goodness that she had at least a few of her clothes from the other world stuffed at the bottom of her backpack. The spare clothes she had purchased in Bree had all gotten lost in Goblin-town and she was not about to wear the ones she was currently wearing before they had been washed.

Dori however did not seem to like this notion. ‘There can be wargs out there still,’ he pointed out.

‘Not bloody likely after the eagles’ treatment,’ Kate retorted. As far as she knew the eagles had set to the task of “controlling” the wargs’ and goblins’ behaviour with a vengeance. Besides, the book didn’t mention anything about an attack while they were out here bathing. ‘And the book says we’re perfectly safe here.’ Her secret was out now anyway. She might as well rub their noses in it from time to time. And the looks on their faces were absolutely priceless.

She had marched off before the dwarves found their tongues again, feeling altogether pleased with her own performance just now. Someone could be heard chuckling – Kate suspected it might be Bofur – and a few even laughed. The general mood was relaxed and cheerful and after so long in danger, running on adrenaline, it was a true relief to be able to take the time to relax. And the chance to take a bath wasn’t entirely unwelcome to Kate either. She was pretty convinced she actually smelled worse than most of the goblins she had encountered.

The water of the river was cold and made her shiver, but she did feel better once she had washed the dirt off her skin and out of her hair. A warm shower would have been preferable, but those were not readily available in Middle Earth and she would have to make do with what was.

In the reflecting water she could also see the damage that goblin’s whip had done to her face. Óin had not been lying when he had told her it was healing well, but it didn’t exactly heal beautifully and it was quite obvious that it would leave a scar all across her face. Kate usually didn’t think of herself as a vain woman, but this was a disappointment, even though she would never admit that to anyone but herself. That scar was ugly and she could only just bite back tears of frustration. She was not going to cry, not when things could have turned out so much worse.

She turned her back on her reflection and set about washing her clothes. She had some soap, but it wasn’t ideal. Some of the stains, especially the ones that were caused by blood, were difficult to get out. But it would have to do, because washing machines were as hard to come by as showers around here.

Kate returned to the camp approximately half an hour later, feeling lots better than she had before. She was back in jeans and a shirt, making her feel much more like her old self, the Kate that had never seen a goblins’ realm or orcs and wargs charging at her.

‘Any of your clothes need mending, Kate?’ Dori called out to her when he noticed her returning.

‘Just some buttons that seemed to have done a disappearing act somewhere in Goblin-town,’ she replied, secretly glad that he was offering. It was quite possible that women in Middle Earth were supposed to be doing the mending, but Kate had always been a hopeless case where needle and thread had been involved. ‘And I think there’s a tear in my cloak somewhere as well.’

She took the items and walked over to Dori. Her adopted brother held out his hands to take them, but seemed to freeze in mid-motion when he laid eyes on her. His eyes widened and he seemed to be choking on something. ‘What is that?’ he demanded.

Kate sent him a confused look. ‘What is _what_?’ She went over what could have shocked him so in her head, but could not come up with one single thing that could justify such a reaction.

‘That… that…’ Dori seemed lost for words, so he just pointed at her torso.

Kate frowned. ‘T-shirt?’ she provided. ‘What on earth is wrong with…?’ It hit her just a little too late that this shirt was short-sleeved and come to think of it, if she recalled the movies right she had never seen one woman in it go around with sleeves as short as hers. For all she knew her way of dressing was wholly inappropriate here.

Dori’s scandalised look seemed to confirm that theory. ‘You can’t wear that, Kate!’

This triggered her own irritation. ‘I’m not about to wear that still soaking shirt,’ she pointed out. ‘So it’s either this or go around naked.’ Really, there was nothing wrong with her clothes. All important bits were covered. It were only her arms that were left bare, for crying out loud. Of course she had known that these dwarves were taking propriety way too serious, but this was exaggerated. And she was not even from this world. She would not provoke her new friends unnecessarily, but they would have to learn to deal with some of the customs of her world.

Dwalin, who had been drinking a cup of water, practically inhaled the liquid when he heard her say that. Several of the others around the campfire appeared to be in a state of shock as well. And Kate would be lying if she said that she secretly did not think this very funny. They had such different views of what was normal and what wasn’t. She had no doubt that her new friends were truly shocked by her appearance. They were completely genuine.

Dori still looked like the very image of disapproval, but he gave her a curt nod. ‘Please change before we move on.’

Kate had no intention of changing at all. It was far too hot to go around in shirts with long sleeves and a cloak. If the dwarves were perfectly content to cook themselves in all that wool and armour, they were welcome to it, but she was not going to do that. She had kicked off her boots as well, enjoying the feel of the soft grass under her feet.

Most of the dwarves were still in the river and the ones that weren’t were doing something useful. So Kate grabbed her bag and pulled out her copy of _The Hobbit_. She might as well do her homework. She was the company advisor after all and she should do her research.

But her thoughts were drifting. Her companions were not paying her any mind, too focused on their own tasks. Gandalf was the only one doing nothing at all. And it was precisely the wizard that was bothering in a way she could not quite put her finger on. It was not just that he had refused to send her back home again. There were more things. His disappearing act in Goblin-town was right on the top of the list. Because in Kate’s mind that didn’t seem to be making any sense at all. He had known that they were at risk, even if they had indeed avoided the front gate. In the book he had flashed some impressive lights that prevented the goblins from taking him as well as the dwarves. He had done no such thing in real life. If Bilbo was to be believed, and Kate tended to do that, then he had just hidden himself while they had all been taken. He had sat back and watched while the company was dragged away by the goblins. And that was behaviour that was mindboggling, because it was just not like Gandalf to act in such a fashion.

Kate narrowed her eyes at the unsuspecting wizard’s back, trying to work out what the hell he had been thinking leaving them at the goblins’ obvious lack of mercy. The only thing her mind could come up with was the notion that if Gandalf had left them, it was because he wanted them to be taken into Goblin-town. Now there was a notion that sounded ridiculous and unlikely to her. They may not agree about everything, but that did not mean that he would just leave them when he disagreed with them. No, he had to have ulterior motives.

 _Maybe this is not about the dwarves_. She had no idea where that thought had come from, but once it had taken root in her mind, there was no escaping it. Her eyes sought out Bilbo, who was fussing over some buttons of his waistcoat that had remained behind in Goblin-town as well. He had been to Gollum’s lair, of that was certain. The halfling had told the tale of the riddle-competition shortly after his return, even if he had carefully edited out the finding of the Ring. Kate had been busy herself then, so she didn’t have the time to ask or even think about it then, but now the Ring had her undivided attention.

The only conclusion to be drawn from this was that Gandalf for some reason beyond her comprehension had wanted Bilbo to find the Ring. And if that was the case, then it would explain several other things as well, like why he had been objecting to the company taking another pass road, or his apparent lack of concern for the existence of a front door. Subtly he had been steering them towards the point where they had been taken by the goblins.

Kate remembered ranting that Gandalf did not seem to be acting on the knowledge of the book, but she came back from that now. In his own cunning way he had been ascertaining that things would go his way. Where Kate had been trying to change the events, Gandalf had been trying to make sure that things went exactly as they happened in the book. He had been the force working against her all the time!

‘That sly bastard!’ she hissed. What on earth was he even hoping to achieve by acting like this? He had brought her here to change things, had he not? Then why would he suddenly be working so hard to prevent her from doing that? It was completely insane!

She only became aware of her friends looking at her in confusion when Glóin asked her what the matter was. Until then she had been too absorbed by her own train of thought to even realise that she had spoken out loud.

‘I’m having a Gandalf-hating mood, that’s what,’ she growled, getting to her feet. The wizard was not getting away with this, not while she lived and breathed. She marched over to him, even if Ori could be heard asking, sounding a little worried, what she was going to do. Kate ignored him for now. She had a wizard to confront.

Said wizard was leaning on his staff, smoking his pipe and staring out over the river. He probably heard her coming, but if he did, he did not show it.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Kate demanded, not in the mood for pleasantries.

‘About what, dear girl?’ Gandalf politely inquired. The smoke obscured his face and it gave the advisor the strange urge to tear it from his hand and throw it into the river, so that she would see who she was talking to.

‘About you wanting us to go to Goblin-town,’ she clarified, speaking from between clenched teeth. It took her all she had not to knock some sense into that man’s head. Maybe Bilbo finding the Ring was a necessity, but surely there should have been other ways to achieve that goal? How could he just have let them be taken, putting practically all of them through hell, all because he wanted the burglar to find the Ring? It made her feel like all of them were just pawns in some huge chess game this wizard was playing and she did not like it one bit. ‘And do not even as much as think about trying to deny it,’ she added in a snarl when she saw he was about to do just that. ‘Your behaviour doesn’t leave any room at all for another explanation.’

Gandalf’s mouth had already opened, but it closed again after that last outburst. ‘Ah,’ he simply said.

‘Ah, indeed.’ Kate clenched her hands into fists. ‘Feeling in an explanatory mood already?’ She could not even remember the last time she had been this angry. She didn’t think she even had been this mad that first night in Bag End. But now, she felt betrayed as well as used and it made her boil over with rage, the anger singing in her blood, urging her to hurt this manipulating excuse for a wizard. ‘Tell me, is that other pass road even really blocked or was that just your way of assuring we would take the more dangerous road?’

‘My dear girl…’ Gandalf began.

‘Don’t you dare go all patronising on me,’ she warned him. This may be childish behaviour, but she could not care less. She could feel all her companions’ eyes on her, but they didn’t mean anything to her right now. Later she would no doubt regret her actions, feel ashamed of them even, but those were concerns for a later moment. Right now the anger had her firmly within its grasp and she surrendered to it willingly. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, but I think it was your intention to let Bilbo find a certain circular object under the Misty Mountains, was it not?’

Kate was one hundred percent convinced that this indeed was the case, even if she had not yet figured out what Gandalf wanted with it. If he had a last shred of sanity left – something which she rather doubted after recent events – he would make them turn south to destroy the bloody thing before it could cause any more harm, thus preventing the whole War of the Ring. That would be the responsible thing to do.

‘I take it you are referring to Bilbo’s magical Ring?’ Gandalf asked. His voice was calm and even kind, even if he still did not meet Kate’s eyes.

‘No, Bombur’s finest frying pan,’ she snapped sarcastically. ‘Of course I’m talking about that cursed Ring. I take it you at least do know what it is?’

‘I do.’ The reply was accompanied by a curt nod of the head.

He surely was not very forthcoming with the information he knew Kate was after and it enraged her even more. ‘Should we not act now?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Destroy it while we have the chance? Before Sauron can gain power again?’ That had to be Gandalf’s motive for acting out this hare-brained scheme. It was the only reason that would make the tiniest bit of sense. Gandalf was a kind of guardian of Middle Earth. Destroying Rings would probably be one of the tasks described in his job description, she thought wryly, even if protecting dwarves was clearly not.

‘Ah,’ Gandalf said again. ‘Not exactly, no.’

Kate narrowed her eyes in suspicion, not liking the sound of this at all. ‘What do you mean?’ she questioned. Had that man taken leave of his senses entirely?

It would certainly appear so. ‘Have you forgotten the many uses of said Ring to the success of the quest?’ Gandalf asked. He was still smoking. By the way he was looking he wasn’t even remotely worried. Kate had no idea what was in that pipe, but it had definitely addled his brain. He was talking nonsense now.

‘Of course I know the importance of the Ring,’ she said irritably.  ‘But that’s not really the point now, is it? In the long run that stupid thing is only going to do more harm than good.’ It was hard to believe that Gandalf had only put them through hell knowingly because he wanted the burglar to have something to help him on the quest. He had not even done it for a noble reason! And why would he be objecting so much to destroying the most dangerous object of all times? Common sense did seem something in short supply here.

Yes, the Ring would be of vital importance if the book was right. She was only too aware of it and she guessed that this was the very reason Gandalf wasn’t hell-bent on destroying it yet. The Ring would be of great use in taking back Erebor, because it would allow Bilbo to sneak in unseen and come back out alive to tell the tale. It did make sense, but it did not make her feel particularly safe to have such a dangerous artefact in the company. And surely they could find a way to take back the Mountain without the help of this powerful piece of jewellery?

She was about to say that, but the wizard side-tracked her. ‘But that is not your fight, dear,’ Gandalf chastised her gently. It made Kate feel like she was a young foolish girl being reprimanded by the wiser adult. But the adult wasn’t wise in this case, more like the biggest fool of all, in her opinion. ‘This evil will be for another generation to address.’

She had to remind herself a lot that whacking Gandalf over the head with his own staff would do her no favours in the long run. ‘That is the most stupid thing I have heard in all my life,’ she spat. ‘And that’s saying a lot.’ In what universe was leaving the mess for another generation a good idea? Oh, she would not say that it had not happened before, but it remained a stupid plan all the same.

‘You were not brought here to change those events,’ the wizard pointed out. So, he at least was aware of the War of the Ring. Kate tried to determine if that made things better or only worse, but she had not yet decided on either when Gandalf continued: ‘I don’t think there is anything in that contract of yours that says anything about destroying treasure. You are here only to assist on this particular quest.’

For a moment Kate was lost for words, hardly capable of believing that the wizard was in all honesty even saying what she’d thought he had said. It sounded like a sick joke from where she was standing. And he even had the guts to drag the whole blasted contract into this.

And she lost it. The wizard was still merrily smoking the day away as if for all the world this was still nothing more serious than a conversation about the weather and not at all as if the fate of the world depended on the decisions made here. Kate’s fingers had been itching to set the wizard right for a long time now and before she had even given herself permission to do it, she had taken the pipe from him and hurled it as far away from her as she could. It landed in the river, going down almost right away.

‘You are _intolerable_!’ Kate snapped at the wizard while he was still recovering. She turned on her heels and marched away. No matter what this man thought, they were not done talking about this.

 

***

 

Thorin would have pressed on if he had been given the choice. The sooner they would be out of this area, the better he would feel. He had been quite convinced that the eagles had gotten rid of the wargs and orcs that were plaguing these lands, at least for a little while, but quite convinced was not entirely convinced and Thorin would much rather not take any more risks with the lives of his companions. They had been in too much danger already. He would have to keep them as safe as he possibly could from now on.

But he would admit, if only to himself, that the short rest was a relief. His chest was still aching and he was out of breath far more easily than he liked. The warg’s teeth had not been able to pierce his armour, but they had caused bruising and Thorin suspected that one of two of his ribs may even be broken. But he was not going to tell that to his companions. He could deal with it and he would not delay the quest any more than strictly necessary.

So the swimming proposal had come like a gift from Mahal himself. Thorin had taken off towards a spot somewhere downstream out of sight to bathe in private and get the opportunity to determine the damage done to him without anyone else seeing it. The wounds on his arms were healing well, even if it was going to take some time for them to heal entirely. He could hide these injuries under his clothes anyway.

His torso was another matter entirely. It was a pattern of bruises and small wounds where his armour had been pressed into his flesh. Feeling his ribs had turned out to be a painful experience as well. Dwarf bones were strong, but even his bones were not made to withstand the pressure of a warg’s teeth on them. Thorin was fairly sure that at least two of them were severely bruised, but broken was even more likely. He had considered asking Óin for his help, but had dismissed that idea in the same thought. The half-deaf dwarf would insist that he rested and that was one thing Thorin could just not do.

So he compromised by leaving off some of his armour, to at least have some breathing space. If anyone asked, he could always reply that there were no wargs and orcs nearby now and that it was too warm to be wearing all those layers now. He didn’t think anyone would dare to question his words.

The place where they had set up a temporary camp was bustling with activity. Most dwarves were still in the river, but the ones that were not had gathered around a small campfire where Bombur was roasting some fish someone must have caught at some point. The scene looked altogether peaceful.

‘That is the most stupid thing I have heard in all my life!’

Or maybe it was not that peaceful on second thought. Thorin’s head swivelled in the direction from where the noise had come, his eyes meeting the sight of a very angry company advisor having some kind of argument with the wizard. The latter was leaning on his staff, smoking, as he was listening to whatever Kate was saying with an almost amused expression on his face. The fool. If Kate saw that – and there was every chance that she would – then Gandalf would probably find himself in huge trouble.

His attention went to the advisor himself. He would later think that it had not been one of his better ideas to take a gulp of water when he did that, for he nearly choked on it when he saw her. The braids had been undone, leaving her wild curls spill over her shoulders and bare arms. And that was the problem. Had that woman no sense of propriety at all? It was bad enough that she was back in those clothes from her own world, which were far too revealing for anyone’s sense of propriety, but to leave her arms bare was pushing things too far.

The advisor herself did not seem to be aware of the scandal she was causing, stabbing her finger at Gandalf’s chest, snarling something at him that Thorin could not understand from where he was standing. Mahal, she was also bare-footed. What kind of ridiculous world did she come from if she apparently believed this to be perfectly acceptable?

‘You’re _intolerable_!’ Kate’s voice interrupted his thoughts again. The next thing Thorin knew she had torn away the wizard’s pipe, throwing it into the river with all the force she could muster. Now _that_ gave him another reason to stare at her. He already knew that woman was a force to be reckoned with when properly angered, but this was taking things a bit far.

Gandalf seemed to be in shock as well. He blinked a few times and was apparently lost for words. Kate did not notice. She turned on her heels and marched away. Originally she had been headed for the campfire, but when she spotted Thorin sitting under a tree she changed direction and marched over to him instead, letting herself fall onto the ground.

‘Are you well?’ Thorin inquired politely. From the expression on her face he was fairly sure that the answer to that question would be no, but he supposed that Kate knew that. It was more a way of saying that she could talk about it if she so wished. As her friend, that was something that was entirely acceptable, so very unlike the clothing she currently wore. Thorin forced himself not to watch at her arms.

Kate snorted. ‘Not bloody likely,’ she huffed.

Thorin merely raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to elaborate.

‘I am just having an I-want-to-bang-Gandalf’s-head-against-a-rock-experience here,’ she replied. And indeed she was giving every impression of wanting to do exactly that. ‘Something I am sure you can understand all too well.’

The right corner of his mouth curled up. ‘I have never thrown his pipe into a deep river,’ he felt obliged to point out.

Kate gave him a wry look. ‘Very funny, Thorin.’ She pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, making it quite difficult for Thorin to not look at those. ‘Anyway, he’s a wizard. I am sure he can just conjure it right back up from the water. And if not…’ She shrugged, wholly unconcerned. ‘Well, then at least we’re rid of that wretched smokescreen of his.’

Which was no doubt exactly what she had intended when she threw it into the water. He frowned as he wondered what had brought about this fit of temper. Mahal knew that it was far too easy for anyone to lose patience with the wizard, but Thorin remembered very well what had happened the night before, when she had been begging the wizard to let her go home. For all he knew this was just a continuation of that argument, even if he had almost been led to believe that Kate had resigned herself to staying with the company until the end of the quest.

It made him narrow his eyes at her. He could not trust her. Even after those words this morning he could still not trust her. And for some reason he hated that. ‘And what was your encounter about, if I may ask?’ Thorin heard the wariness in his own voice, but he could not care less.

And Kate was not a fool. She picked up on that right away. ‘Is something the matter?’ A frown had found its way to her forehead.

Thorin ignored the question. She was going to answer to him first. ‘Did he refuse to send you home again?’

For a moment she just stared at him in confusion, but then the understanding dawned and the confusion effortlessly changed into annoyance. ‘Don’t you ever sleep when you’re supposed to?’

Thorin fixed her with his sternest stare.

Kate sent him an equally stern stare back, almost as if she was the one in charge here. ‘That conversation wasn’t meant for your ears,’ she all but snapped.

‘I heard it all the same,’ the dwarf king countered. He was not even sure why he was so wound up over it. He even understood her motivations to a certain extent. Yet it kept feeling like betrayal and Thorin had seen far too much of that already. It was one thing for Dáin to leave him to sort it all out on his own – and probably promptly show his face whenever there was something in it for him – but at least he was not friends with Dáin. Distant relative or no, Dáin of the Iron Hills had lost Thorin’s good opinion when he decided to cower away in his hills at the mere mention of the dragon. And now Thorin would not even want him with his company anymore. He had asked for loyalty, honour and a willing heart and Dáin seemed to be in the possession of none of those three.

But Kate had become a friend. It was a strange friendship; unorthodox, quite unexpected and with more fights than Thorin had ever had with other friends, but it was a friendship all the same. Yet she had been trying to leave. She would have done so if Gandalf had only let her. And that had made Thorin realise that Kate did not care for loyalty. She hardly had any. And Thorin could not for the life of him figure out why that hurt so badly.

Kate sighed. ‘So I have noticed.’ She must have caught his glower, because she added: ‘No, it was not about that this time. It was something about the story actually. And we disagreed. Again.’

‘Why did you try to leave?’ He had been meaning to ask what the “disagreement” had been about and he was a little surprised to hear what had actually come out. It unnerved him. Why _did_ he feel so strongly about this?

‘Would you not were you in my shoes?’ she countered. ‘I miss home, I miss my family.’ She held on to her legs so tightly her knuckles turned white. ‘They might even believe me dead by now. And I am not even capable of letting them know that I am still alive.’ The anger had turned to distress in a matter of seconds. ‘What if…’ She hesitated for a second. ‘What if I return and there is nothing for me to go back to because they already believe me gone?’ It came out in a whisper.

That was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Thorin could tell that she had not intended to share this with him and he did not know why she had. And he could not really understand her fear, but he could tell that it was genuine. He also had no idea how to deal with it, so he decided to steer the topic away from what appeared to be so painful for her. He did still not condone her actions, but arguing about it would neither of them do any good. ‘What made you throw the wizard’s pipe into the river?’ he inquired.

Kate seemed to sense that this was some kind of peace offering and she took it. ‘Gandalf decided on a course of action that I disagree with,’ she replied. The hands became fists again. ‘Remember that you said that Gandalf had never acted on his knowledge of the book?’

Thorin had just been about to ask which course of action it was that Gandalf had decided upon and, more importantly, why he had not in the least been aware of such a decision, but Kate’s question side-tracked him. Because he did remember thinking and saying that. The wizard acted like he was totally ignorant of the book and its contents, while both Thorin and Kate were sure that he did know. Why Gandalf had not acted on that, instead opting on leaving that to Kate, that had been one of the biggest mysteries of the quest so far. It was also frustrating to no end, one of the few things king and advisor actually agreed upon.

‘Are you saying that he has?’ he demanded.

Kate grimaced. ‘In his very own unique way, yes,’ she replied. She gave every appearance of not being pleased with the wizard’s scheming and Thorin would bet all the gold in Erebor that he probably wouldn’t be too by the end of this conversation. ‘I think that Gandalf has been trying to make sure that everything goes exactly by the book so far.’ A glower was sent in the wizard’s direction. ‘And his behaviour just now confirmed it.’

That at least succeeded in confusing Thorin. ‘If that is the truth, then why are you here?’

Kate laughed humourlessly. ‘Do tell me the moment you find out, will you? Right now I haven’t got a clue.’

It still did not make sense in the dwarf king’s head. What game was Gandalf playing? ‘What has he done?’ he inquired.

The advisor thought about that question for some time before she responded. ‘Well, I think I started to suspect he was up to something when he kept insisting we go to Rivendell, even when there was no real need because we already had the map’s message in print in my book.’

Thorin nodded. He remembered that all too well and he would even agree with the advisor that this behaviour was indeed strange. Thorin had eventually decided on blaming it all on Gandalf’s friendship with the elves, because at the time that had seemed the only reasonable explanation. And in the end they had of course not been left with much of an option.

She had seen the grimace. ‘That’s what I thought.’ Her face looked positively murderous and it was not directed at Thorin for a change. ‘Then there was that whole matter of us wanting to take a different route through the mountains. I think we would have done it had Gandalf not told us it was impossible. Then there was that bloody disappearing act he did when the goblins captured us. I think Gandalf wanted us to meet the goblins.’

Thorin had to remind himself it would be very unkingly of him to let his jaw drop, because what Kate had just said surely made him want to do that. She could not be in earnest about this, could she? That kind of behaviour would be bordering on treason. ‘That cannot be.’ It was more of a wish than a denial and he knew it.

‘Can’t it?’ Kate growled. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation, he didn’t specifically want us to meet the Great Goblin. He just wanted Bilbo to meet Gollum and get something from him, as described in the book.’ The advisor picked up a small pebble from the ground and hurled it into the river in anger.

As much as Thorin did not wish to believe this, he would have to admit that it sounded like something Gandalf would do. The dwarf had always known that the wizard used people as pawns in a game that was much bigger than any of them could ever hope to understand. Even his help on this quest had not been without ulterior motives and Thorin knew enough of the world that people seldom did things out of the goodness of their heart, especially since good hearts seemed to be in short supply in Middle Earth. Gandalf’s concern was Smaug. He feared that the fire-breathing monstrosity would be used for evil ends if he remained alive. That he had taken up residence in Erebor was of no concern to him and Thorin knew that. They were allies and nothing more.

But this was taking things too far, even for Gandalf. He may be using people as pawns, but his intentions were good and he would go to great lengths for those he had allied himself with. Thorin just found it hard to believe that Gandalf would leave them at the mercy of goblins only to make something else happen. It was hard to believe, but not impossible. And Kate had said that the grey wizard had as good as confirmed her suspicions…

‘What did Mr Baggins obtain?’ he asked. He had listened to the halfling’s tale, but never had the hobbit mentioned any object he may have gotten from the strange creature he had encountered under the mountains.

‘A magical Ring that has the power to grant invisibility to its bearer.’ For some reason this made Kate’s frown deepen.

Thorin would have rejoiced at the notion, had she not looked so serious. Because such a Ring would be invaluable to the quest, especially since Mr Baggins was the burglar and Mahal knew he would need all the help he could get, because so far his burgling had not been very impressive. True, he had gotten past the goblins, but they had not expected him there and it had been dark then as well. To sneak past a dragon would require a good deal more skill than the halfling had demonstrated so far.

‘Why do you think that it is bad for Mr Baggins to have such an artefact?’ he wondered.

Kate bit her lip, clearly debating with herself if she should answer that question. ‘You know what, why don’t you just read the book and ask me again when you’ve done that?’ she proposed, giving every appearance of wanting to escape the question. And apparently she was trying to escape him too while she was at it. She had already gotten to her feet.

But Thorin was no fool. He could tell that there was something she was hiding from him and there was every chance that was something he would not like in the slightest. And he had more than enough of the secrecy with that blasted wizard already. He was on his feet before the advisor even had the chance to turn away – even though his ribs protested against the abuse he forced on them – and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from moving, fixing her with as stern a glare as he could conjure up. ‘You are keeping secrets,’ he accused her.

The glower she sent his way reminded him of the ones she used to send him before they had agreed to be friends. ‘Let go of me,’ she snarled.

Thorin did no such thing. He would have answers first. And he would never admit this to anyone but himself – and even then it was reluctantly – but he feared the reply. Kate’s behaviour during Azog’s attack and the direct aftermath of that battle had made him believe that he had indeed gained a true friend, but her actions on the Great Shelf and just now made him fear that his new friend really was not that much of a friend after all. What kind of friend tried to leave and lie?

‘I’m not keeping any bloody secrets from you,’ Kate hissed when she realised he was not listening to her. ‘This conversation would just be so much easier if we both knew what this is all about and for that, you need to read the book.’

‘After which you can conveniently run off to your own world.’ His voice was ice-cold. Because that had been her plan, hadn’t it? As soon as she had made him read the book, she would abandon the company in spite of the contract she had signed and the friends and family she had here. The woman had no loyalty and he should be glad to be rid of her, yet that was not what he felt. It confused him as much as it angered him.

Kate tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. ‘No, I won’t!’ she snapped. ‘I told you I’d help you take Erebor back, did I not?’ Thorin had not forgotten that, but he also knew he could never take her word for anything again. ‘For goodness sake, do you think I would have angered Gandalf that much if I was really anxious to get home?’ The well-known fire was blazing in her eyes once again. ‘Just in case it escaped your royal notice, me hurling his pipe into the river probably is not that good for my chances to get home again, ever. I’m staying with this quest until it is done. And now will you kindly let go of my arm? You’re hurting me!’

The argument about Gandalf hit home. That had indeed not been a wise move for someone so dependent on the wizard’s good graces to return to her own world again. It might mean that the advisor had indeed made her decision. But maybe was not good enough for Thorin. He needed certainties. He needed to know he could rely on each and every member of his company, including the advisor. ‘Would you swear to that?’

Kate’s eyes widened a bit, in surprise he suspected, but she did not look away. The fire was still there. ‘Whatever you want,’ she snapped. ‘Will you release me if I do?’

He gave a curt nod of the head, waiting for the promise.

Kate took a deep breath. The fire in her eyes had died down somewhat, but had not faded entirely. ‘I have no idea how you guys do this,’ she warned him. She even sounded a little uncertain now. ‘So, here goes: I, Catherine Sarah Andrews, do hereby solemnly swear to remain loyal to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. I promise to fulfil the terms as mentioned in the contract and advise Thorin Oakenshield, leader of his company, to the best of my abilities. I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed.’ She frowned. ‘Would that be sufficient?’

It was more than Thorin had even asked for. And yes, her vows may be different from the way Thorin would have sworn, but they were sincere and as binding as an oath he would have sworn himself. ‘It is sufficient,’ he confirmed.

‘Great. Can you finally let go now?’ She gave a pointed look at the hand that was still holding her wrist in a death grip.

‘Not yet,’ he replied.

The fire was smouldering. ‘Why the hell not?’ Kate demanded. ‘I made the oath, did I not?’

‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘I said your vow was sufficient. I did not say that we were done.’ He found himself staring at an utterly confused advisor and realised too late that vows in her world might be different from how they were in Middle Earth. ‘Is it not the custom for both parties to make oaths?’ he inquired, silently cursing the customs of Kate’s world. What cruel world hers must be if only one person would take oaths, while the other party took no responsibility at all! He could not for the life of him even understand why she was so desperate to return there anyway.

Her forehead wrinkled. ‘You’re supposed to say something as well?’

Thorin nodded again. ‘That is customary.’

Kate shrugged. ‘Go right ahead then,’ she said. ‘As long as you’re not about to go and declare your undying love or something equally stupid. And as long as you at least loosen your hold on my arm,’ she added. ‘Good grief, man, are you trying to squeeze me into jelly?’ The last was said in irritation.

He did as she asked, biting back the chuckle that was threatening to boil over at the ridiculous notion of him declaring his undying love. She would not see the day that such a thing ever happened. But he let it pass, getting on with what needed to be done. ‘I, Thorin, son of Thráin, so of Thrór, make this vow before Mahal: to protect and shield Catherine Sarah Andrews, to listen to the advice she shall give and to…’

‘Not squeeze her arm into jelly ever again,’ Kate finished in a teasing voice, even though she did for some reason seem uncomfortable with this all.

‘And to see to it that she will regain her own home once this quest is finished,’ he finished, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up. Could they not even exchange oaths in a normal fashion?

‘Which is a polite way of saying you’ll do whatever it takes to get rid of me as soon as you can,’ Kate remarked, but the tone wasn’t biting any longer. This was the bantering like they had done in Rivendell. ‘Can you please let go now? I swear this is going to bruise if you don’t.’

Thorin let go. He realised he may have been a bit too harsh when he saw the mark his hand had left. Dori had better not see this or he would not live another day. In that respect it certainly was rather annoying that the advisor had managed to obtain some older brothers, and _protective_ older brothers at that. ‘We’ll move out within the quarter of an hour,’ he informed her. Most of the company were out of the water now anyway and they needed to leave again if they wanted to meet this mysterious friend of Gandalf before the end of the day. ‘I suggest you gather your belongings and prepare to leave.’ His gaze fell on her still bare arms. ‘And cover yourself up,’ he added as an afterthought.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _No way I am going to do that. The dwarves may all be perfectly content to get cooked in their own clothes, but I am not. Stupid dwarves with their ridiculous sense of propriety!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, Gandalf does actually know what he is doing. For my inspiration for him to reply as he did, see How The Hobbit Should Have Ended on Youtube.   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Leave me a comment to let me know what you thought please?


	30. Verbal Sparring

_I could see Thorin give me a very pointed look when he realised I had no intention of putting on something with long sleeves, which I equally pointedly ignored. I would already start feeling criminally overheated if I so much as looked in his direction with all the layers he had put on. Good grief, he even wore his fur-lined coat. It took me all I had not to declare him a lunatic, out loud. Not that my companions were blessed with any more common sense. From looking at them one would say they were expecting frost and snow storms instead of a warm summer afternoon. Of all of them Bilbo was the only one who had taken off his coat, but that could have something to do with the fact that it was still wet from washing as well._

_But the general mood was good. Bofur had launched into some story and I hung back to listen to it. Okay, that was not the entire reason. The more honest reply would be that I stuck with Bofur because he was at the rear of the column, which meant that he was farthest away from Gandalf, who had taken it upon himself to lead the company in the right direction. He was still very displeased with my actions, especially since his pipe seemed to have gone missing entirely. I do not know what has happened to it, but if this would be some children’s story, then I’d say it floated down the Anduin and was eventually picked up by some old man who had just lost his old pipe and had prayed for a new one, after which Gandalf’s pipe came floating right into his hands. And the old man lived happily ever after. The end. And now the little children should really go to bed._

_No, in all honesty we did not know what had become of the pipe and I could not really care either. I just took care to keep some distance between me and a certain vexed wizard as we made our way to Beorn’s house…_

 

It was a little cooler under the trees and for this Thorin was grateful. He would bet that Kate was feeling quite a lot better now, even if her clothing was still wholly inappropriate. As he had half expected, she laughed in his face when he told her to get dressed more appropriately, telling him not to be ridiculous. Thorin had fixed her with his sternest stare, reminding her that he was in fact the leader of this company and that she had to do as he told her to. He had been rewarded for this speech with an ‘I swore to assist you, not to obey you, so you can stick that order where the sun doesn’t shine’ for his troubles. And honestly, it wasn’t worth getting into a fight over, not really.

And it was rather funny to see the rest of the company deal with the advisor’s strange dressing habits. Or maybe failing to deal with said habits was a more accurate way of describing the situation. Mr Baggins didn’t seem to mind at all. He was walking close to Gandalf, pestering the wizard with questions about subjects that Thorin himself did not believe to be relevant at all. Dwalin and Fíli seemed very embarrassed and were trying not to look in Kate’s direction. Dori and Nori were disapproving. The former was trying to get Kate to at least put on something over the flimsy garment she called a T-shirt. His attempts had been unsuccessful thus far, something Thorin could have told him in advance. The advisor wasn’t prone to listen to people who told her she had to behave in certain ways. If anything, he might have strengthened her resolve not to change.

Most of the others tried to ignore it, even if it was obvious they did not like what she did. Kate ignored them as well, so he didn’t think she was very impressed with it all. Kíli and Ori on the other hand had taken Kate’s actions as a good example. The first was rolling up his sleeves up to his elbows and had stuck his coat in his pack. Ori was attempting to do the same, but Dori’s disapproving look combined with some stern words made him change his mind, even if he still looked longingly at his adopted sister’s attire.

‘Quite a change she’s brought about,’ Balin remarked casually as he saw what his friend was looking at. ‘Even when our companions disagree on whether this is a good or a bad change.’ The elderly dwarf’s eyes twinkled happily, reminding Thorin somewhat of a Gandalf set on making mischief.

Dwalin, who was walking on Thorin’s other side, grimaced. ‘The lass has no sense of propriety at all.’

‘She has a different sense of propriety, brother,’ Balin corrected. He seemed amused by the whole clothing business. Maybe he was just too old to be shocked, Thorin reflected. Sometimes Balin could be the kind grandfather type who just watched the younger generation’s antics. ‘She is from a different world, after all. Very fascinating stories she can tell sometimes.’

Thorin remembered Kate walking with Balin and Ori a lot while Ori pestered her with questions and Balin listened to the answers. It was an arrangement that seemed to work for them and all three of them appeared to enjoy it as well. Consequently Thorin thought that both the scribe and the old warrior had learned a good deal more about the advisor’s world than he had.

Dwalin responded with a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. ‘She’d best learn to adept to our habits for as long as she’s here.’

But that was wishful thinking, Thorin knew. Kate was a rebel, never doing what was expected of her, especially not when she believed the order to be all kinds of ridiculous. She was a child of her world, living by its rules. Her stubbornness about not going by the rules of the society she had joined – even if only temporarily – was as frustrating as it was amusing.

‘Try telling her that,’ he muttered. ‘She will not listen to you.’

Balin’s smile told him all he needed to know. ‘Tried that already, laddie?’

‘Of course I did.’ Amusing or not, the fact remained that this was inappropriate. And he was sure that there was no society in Middle Earth that would believe otherwise.

‘It was very interesting to see you talk with her,’ the old dwarf went on, speaking in an relaxed manner, as if he was just discussing the weather. But Thorin had known him for a long time. There had to be more here.

‘Balin…’ he warned the other.

‘I was merely stating that it was good to see the two of you act like friends,’ Balin explained smoothly.

Thorin almost choked on the thought. Because there had been a lot going on back at the river, but friendship was not one of those things. The dwarf king still was not entirely sure about the oaths that had been made there. He was sure of his own and he meant it, but Kate’s was still somewhat of a mystery to him. At least he had did not doubt her staying with the quest any longer. An oath was an oath, no matter which world one came from.

 _I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed_. That was the sentence that made him wonder. It would have been enough to simply promise to do as her contract stated, to advise and to remain loyal. There had been no need to make this quest her own, as she had done. With that she had made herself one of them, even if she was probably not entirely aware of that herself. And Thorin was not sure what she would think of it when she did find out. Kate Andrews did not seem the type to want to become part of a world she did not originate from. Yet the fact remained that she had done so, tied her life to the quest as tightly as she could. Not even most of the others had sworn to remain with the quest as she had just done, but admittedly Thorin had not asked an oath of them for fear they would turn their back on him as Dáin had done.

‘You’re deep in thought, lad,’ Balin observed, bringing Thorin back to the here and now.

‘There is much to think about,’ he replied.

And there was. There was so much to worry about. And not just about Kate and her promises. There was the matter of where they were going as well. The longer they travelled, the more anxious Thorin became, the more frustrated. So far he had been unable to keep his company out of danger. When he had set out on this quest, he had believed that the worst would be when they had to fight the dragon. Never once had he been able to predict that the journey there would be just as hard. And they were hardly halfway there.

When he looked at his men now he saw that they were cheerful and almost unconcerned. Their supplies were running low and half of them were sporting injuries, but they trusted Thorin to lead them out of trouble and therefore they did not worry. It felt like a vote of confidence that they had so much faith in him. At the same time though, it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders. They depended on him, yet he had failed them time and again. Why did they even still follow him? Why had none of them turned back? So far he had only led them from one crisis to the next and he had not even been the one to help them out, never once. But his companions did not even seem to be aware of that, yet his failing weighed heavy on his mind. For the first time ever, he felt old.

‘It’s no good blaming yourself, Thorin.’ Balin seemed to have read his mind. How he always knew what was going on in Thorin’s head was a mystery, but it could be a blessing.

‘They should not trust me as they do.’ The two sons of Fundin were the only ones he could ever share his deepest concerns with and they were far enough away from the others to not be overheard. He would not show anyone else his doubts. It would only serve to undermine their faith in him.

‘You’re still our leader and our king, lad,’ Balin reminded him. ‘We’d follow you to the ends of the earth. None of us would do so for Gandalf.’

That should have been a reassurance, but as it was, it only added to the load he was already carrying around. He had already come to the conclusion that it was him they were following and not the wizard. It did nothing however to make this any easier to deal with. The others were all joking around now, laughing, drawing energy from each other’s company. In a way Dwalin and Balin were a comfort to him, his closest friends, the ones he could confide in. But when it came down to it, they would not dream of joking with him as they would do with other members of the company. He would always remain the king to them, who they respected. Strangely enough, so far it had only been Kate who had the courage to exchange banter and witticisms with him, but maybe that was just because she didn’t know that such things were not expected of her. It could also mean that she would keep on doing it just to try and provoke him.

Dwalin was about to say something, but all of them were distracted by Mr Baggins’s latest question at Gandalf, who had asked the wizard about who this person was that Gandalf was taking them to. Said wizard had halted, rounding on Bilbo to quite possibly demand of him that he would stop asking questions he clearly did not want to answer.

‘His name is Beorn,’ a voice suddenly spoke up. Thorin turned around and realised that the entire group had come to a halt now, grouping around, curious to know who it was that they were taken to. Kate was still standing next to Bofur, still looking a bit wary in Gandalf’s direction, but she was also smirking a little. ‘He’s a skin-changer, according to the book.’ The smirk widened a little, making Thorin suspect that she was deliberately vexing the tallest member of the company by blurting out pieces of information that said member was loath to give.

‘Yes, Miss Andrews, that he is indeed.’ The tone was made to match the angry scowl he unleashed on the advisor.

‘What?’ Bilbo exclaimed. ‘You mean he is a furrier, a man that calls rabbits conies, when he doesn’t turn their skin into squirrels?’

Gandalf’s face was priceless and Thorin had to work his hardest not to show his amusement. Instead he focused on the words themselves and they made him wonder what in Durin’s name the wizard had thought up this time. He should have known that nothing good could ever come from deciding to let him have his way again. So far he had only demonstrated a very poor taste in friends and if he had heard correctly, Gandalf did not even know this Beorn personally. If he’d had any choice in the matter, he’d have avoided this skin-changer altogether.

But there wasn’t exactly a choice. Their supplies were running low and some members of the company would need to rest to allow their wounds to heal before they moved on. Balin was putting on a brave face, but Thorin had seen his oldest friend grimace in pain from time to time whenever he thought no one was watching. Bofur was still limping as well. He too had not been heard complaining. The cheerful dwarf had simply taken a broken branch as a stick and used that for support. Glóin had gotten himself injured in their latest fight, as well as Dori and Bifur. None of their injuries were very serious, but they would need tending to. A place to rest without having the looming threat of Azog, orcs, wargs or goblins to worry about would be very welcome, as would the chance to restock their supplies be. He had to rely on the wizard once again, as much as he hated it.

Gandalf himself was not exactly amused. He was staring at the hobbit with an exasperated look. ‘Good gracious heavens, no, no, no, no!’ he exclaimed. ‘Don’t be a fool, Mr Baggins, if you can help it!’

‘He can’t,’ came Dwalin’s muttered response from somewhere close to Thorin’s left ear.

Gandalf continued as if he had not spoken at all. ‘In the name of all wonder do _not_ mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of his house, or rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word!’ Thorin felt the need to point out that they probably were a whole lot closer to the skin-changer’s home than hundred miles off and Gandalf was just shouting his displeasure at the top of his lungs. And Kate had gone into what looked like a coughing fit, as had Kíli. There was not much natural about that.

The advisor caught him looking at his nephew and her and sent him a grin in reply. Thorin could feel the corners of his mouth curling up. The wizard may have forgotten about their close proximity to this Beorn’s house, the company surely had not.

Bilbo looked utterly confused right now. ‘So, he is _not_ a furrier?’

Gandalf looked temporarily lost for words. ‘Skin-changer means that he is able to change his skin, Bilbo,’ Kate said. She sounded very much amused. ‘He can change himself into a big black bear and that’s why he’s called a skin-changer. Isn’t that right, Gandalf?’ The tone was pleasant enough, as was the smile that went with it, but the advisor’s eyes were still looking daggers at the wizard and there was an underlying tone of ice-cold anger to her voice that Thorin did not think would have passed anyone’s notice. Kate was still very angry with the grey wizard. And if she was indeed right about his manipulating, then Thorin knew she was justified in it.

But Gandalf could not reasonably deny the advisor’s words, much as he seemed to hate the fact that she was right. ‘That is very right, Miss Andrews. And he is also a man who angers easily, so you would do best to keep that sharp tongue of yours in check around him!’

Thorin was not sure if that had been meant as a threat, but Kate’s brothers sure treated it like one. Dori and Ori glared at him and Nori’s hand was hovering rather close to his weapon, fully prepared to use it should the need arise. Thorin himself did not feel comfortable with this situation either. What had started out as two people who simply did not like one another, had turned into a strong dislike, bordering on hate. From Kate’s part at least. Gandalf did not seem capable of such angry emotions. He was only annoyed, albeit very strongly so. And this was simply not the way one treated a woman. It was unheard of.

As it turned out, however, the advisor was more than capable of fighting her own battles. ‘Said the pot to the kettle,’ she countered easily. She even managed to make it sound like a harmless joke, even if the fiery look in her eyes belied the light tone of her voice. ‘So do us all a favour and mend your own ways before you start to think about correcting others. Your own behaviour isn’t exactly a shiny example now, is it?’

This was quickly turning in a battle of words, something Thorin was rather familiar with since he happened to be one of the participants most of the time. The longer this dragged on, the more it began to look like one of his own fights with the advisor, although he had the good sense to fight his battles a good distance away from the rest of the group. And the strangest thing about this was perhaps that he was on Kate’s side in this. He had his fair share of the wizard’s scheming and the fact that Gandalf never laid all his cards on the table and behaved as if he was the leader of this company, it kept getting on Thorin’s nerves worse and worse with every passing day. And as it happened, it would seem that his advisor was getting fed up with it as well. It would seem that where the wizard was concerned they kept being on the same side.

Gandalf’s eyebrows were knitted together in an angry look. Last time Thorin had seen that look he had turned an entire room dark, his booming voice telling him that if he said Bilbo Baggins was a burglar, then he was one. Strangely enough he did not react to Kate’s words, quite possibly because he could not honestly deny the truth in them, Thorin thought. ‘Because our host is not very fond of strangers, I think I will introduce you in pairs,’ he continued, pointedly ignoring Kate who muttered something that sounded remarkably like ‘You would not have thought of that if the bloody book had not told you so.’ Thorin tried to bite back a chuckle. It would not do now to make things even worse than they no doubt already were. ‘And we will need someone who doesn’t look as… threatening as you all do, so Miss Andrews and I shall go first and…’

‘No.’ Thorin swivelled his head in the direction of the three brothers Ri, realising that he had the same reaction to this proposal as they had. The four of them had spoken simultaneously. Apparently none of them was too thrilled about letting Kate anywhere near the wizard right now. The way those two were behaving it was hardly unlikely if Gandalf lost his temper and, as Kate used to phrase it, blasted her into the middle of next week. And he had made a promise to protect her and Thorin supposed that included protecting her from so-called friendly fire as well.

Kate seemed to sense what was going on and she took the time to send them all a very displeased look. ‘Look, guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but I am actually capable of telling Gandalf so myself, you know.’

Thorin knew that. As long as there were words involved Kate would stand her ground. He had pity on the one who though he could beat her in a fight with words. But she had yet to learn that her words would not always be enough to keep her out of trouble. She was in a word were most conflicts were decided by the sword and she was hopeless with those.

Gandalf ignored them all. ‘We’ll need someone who doesn’t look threatening,’ he reminded them. In which case he had better not take Kate with him, Thorin observed wryly. The advisor was looking positively murderous right now.

‘It won’t happen, wizard,’ Thorin informed him. ‘You can take Mr Baggins first if you want someone who looks harmless.’ And the hobbit would be in no danger at all, since Gandalf appeared to be rather fond of him. He had been meaning to suggest Ori as well, but refrained from that when he imagined the possible reactions of his brothers to that. And he had vexed Dori and Nori quite enough by bruising Kate’s arm with his firm grip. He had seen Dori look at the bruising and then at him, telling him with one glance that they were not yet done talking about this.

Gandalf appeared to be rather unhappy with the way things were going, but he at least recognised an order when he heard it. Not that he often made a point of listening to commands – for all Thorin knew he had so far ignored every order he had ever heard – but he did realise that it would be most unwise to go up against four dwarves and one glaring human woman whose temper was as fiery as her hair colour. ‘Very well,’ he gave in. ‘Mr Baggins and I shall go first and the rest of you will follow on my whistle and then with five minutes in between each pair.’

Thorin wondered if it would be any use protesting this notion, but he had at least gained something of a victory, so he decided to let the wizard at least have his way for once. That should pacify him some.

 

***

 

Kate was trying to decide whether she should touched or furious. Normally she would have been beyond mad if someone – let alone four someones – was trying to fight her battles for her, especially when she knew she was perfectly capable of doing so herself. But there was a treacherous part of her that was touched, that had felt honoured when four people had stood up for her the moment they suspected she might be in some form of danger. She wasn’t used to that. Jacko had done it a few times, but she had verbally torn him apart for doing so and he had refrained from doing it again. But these four had ignored her previous warnings not to fight for her and did it again, in spite of her wishes. It should have made her livid, yet it had the opposite effect. _There must be something very wrong with me_.

In the end Gandalf had given in – that had to be a first – and they had continued on their way. Kate had hung back with Ori and Balin, as they had done whenever they had the chance, while her new brother had pestered her with questions about her world. Today’s topic – how very predictable – was clothing. The advisor was well aware that her choice of clothes had caused something of a disturbance among her companions. But she was also determined not to let this bother her. She belonged to that world and now that she could no longer go back to it, it felt somehow reassuring to wear the clothes that had come from there with her to this place. It was a little piece of home in a world that was otherwise completely alien to her.

‘So, the women in your world are allowed to wear clothes like yours?’ Ori was visibly dying to write down everything he had learned so far, but there was no chance of that while they were still walking.

‘I’m not sure allowing comes into it, Ori.’ No matter what he asked, Kate found herself incapable of getting cross with him. ‘We just do it.’

The young scribe nodded, filing this piece of information away. ‘And no one thinks it’s not appropriate?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Why would they when everybody does it?’ she asked. ‘And you know what? What I am wearing is actually pretty modest for such warm weather. Most of the women at home would now be wearing knee-length skirts to go with the T-shirt.’ And most of them would wear even less, but it would probably be best to keep that to herself for now. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy shocking her companions from time to time – because if she was really honest she enjoyed a little too much – but there was no need to exaggerate it.

And this was probably already more information than some of them could handle. Dwalin and Thorin, who had taken to walking close to them to get away from a still very annoyed Gandalf, made sounds like they were choking. ‘You cannot mean that, lass!’ Dwalin turned around to look at her.

Kate suspected her smile may be downright devilish by now. ‘And what if I say that I do?’

He shook his head, probably trying to lose the idea with the movements. ‘Your world sounds hardly appealing,’ he grumbled. ‘Why would you even want to go back there?’

From their perspective her world must be hell, Kate supposed, even when she would just call it different. And Kate would be the last person to claim that it was perfect. But then, neither was Middle Earth. ‘The same reason why you lot are going up against a dragon,’ she replied eventually. ‘Because it’s home.’ Realising just how cheesy and cliché this sounded, she added: ‘And, believe it or not, I actually quite like it there. At least I’m allowed to go around in the clothes of my own choosing without getting remarks and embarrassed looks left, right and centre.’

Dwalin at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed, or as ashamed as he was capable of. Thorin was visibly uncomfortable. He walked on with big steps, pointedly avoiding looking back. Fortunately for him he had distraction near at hand, because Gandalf had halted again. Kate suspected she knew why. They has passed the edge of Beorn’s bee-pastures some time ago – and Kate had tried her hardest not to think about the possibility of them stinging her. After all she had faced a huge orc that wanted her head, she would not run away from mere bees – so they had to be getting close to their destination by now.

‘We’re very near his house now,’ the wizard announced rather unnecessarily. ‘So you had better wait here while Mr Baggins and I go ahead. The rest of you will follow on my whistle, but only in pairs, mind, and about five minutes between each pair of you.’ The way he spoke he reminded Kate of a school teacher in charge of a class of particularly naughty and stupid kids. And that was leaving the fact that he was, once again, using book lines out of consideration. Sometimes she really thought he was just showing off his knowledge of the book, although she could not think of one good reason why he would do that. Or maybe those lines had been written for him, she observed. After all, they did sound very much like something the wizard would say.

But whichever way you looked at it, it was still annoying. ‘We did hear you the first time around, you know,’ she said irritably. ‘We’re not suffering from amnesia and neither are we deaf.’ She would have thrown in an ‘And maybe you could just go, seeing as we would like to arrive before Christmas’ but decided that would be pushing her luck a bit too far. She was more or less surprised Gandalf had not blasted her into the middle of next week already and she would not give him a good excuse to do so if she could help it.

Thorin’s mouth curled up a little. He wasn’t prone to smile, or even be amused as far as she knew, but he did seem a little more relaxed after their escape from the goblins. In his own mysterious way he seemed to ease up a bit, even if she would be very careful to never phrase it like that whenever he – or anyone for that matter – could hear it.

Something had changed after they had made those oaths, although Kate could not quite put her finger on whatever that something was. All that reasonably could be said about it was that it was a pleasant change. Thorin seemed more willing to listen to her. He had not called her out when she had confronted Gandalf just now. Of course this was logical, because he hated the wizard’s scheming as much as she did, but before there had always been hints of disapproval as well, probably because he believed this to be his job. Now he seemed more amused than anything else.

Gandalf just ignored Kate. He beckoned Bilbo to follow him and the two of them disappeared down the road, leaving the rest of the company to figure out in which order they would follow him. Of course, trying to get dwarves to agree about something, _anything_ at all, was a mission impossible, so Kate hung back and waited.

‘Enough!’ Thorin bellowed after a minute or five, probably loud enough to alarm Beorn himself. ‘This will not get us anywhere. Kate, what does your book say?’

Kate blinked a few times. Even though Thorin had asked for her knowledge on the story a few times now, it kept taking her by surprise whenever he did. And this was not even a crisis. This was a stupid argument about who would go first. ‘You mean in which order do we arrive in the book?’ She could hardly believe that this was even happening, in front of all the others too.

The response was a curt nod.

‘I’ll need to check,’ she said, digging up the novel from the bag, fully aware that the rest of the company had not yet known that she had the book with her all along.

‘You got that book with you?’ Dwalin sounded both incredulous and angry. He may have promised not to bother her like he had before, but obviously this did not mean that he was suddenly in favour of her being with the company, advising them.

‘Well spotted, Einstein,’ she muttered, avoiding to meet his eyes. ‘Okay, so here goes: Thorin and Dori go first.’ She kept her eyes on the page in order not to look up. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see her companions’ faces. ‘Nori and Ori come next and then Balin and Dwalin.’ She skipped a bit. ‘According to the book Fíli and Kíli follow them, and then Óin and Glóin.’

‘What is she saying?’ the company healer demanded, pressing his very damaged ear trumpet to his ear. ‘Speak louder, lass. I can’t hear you.’

‘That’s because you’re deaf!’ Kate retorted. She was glad he did not seem to have understood what she was saying, bending over the book to hide her smile. ‘Bifur and Bofur come after them and then there’s only Bombur left.’ She shrugged. ‘Will that help in making a decision?’

The group was silent and she felt all their eyes on her. It made her feel uncomfortable, reminding her of exactly why she had wanted to escape their company in the first place. She could not handle this, not really.

‘Where are you then?’ Dori demanded, breaking the silence Kate could have sworn lasted an eternity.

Kate frowned at him. She thought he’d known. ‘I am not in the book.’

That seemed to come as a surprise to some of them, even when she was positive she had made mention of this little fact before now. For some reason it must have slipped their minds. She could not blame them if that was the case; there had been so much that had occurred since that fateful conversation – or maybe a shouting match was a more apt description – that it almost felt like another life altogether.

‘You’re not in the book?’ The disbelieving voice that asked this question belonged to Kíli. ‘Why not?’

Kate conjured up a wry half-smile. ‘Well, I’d wager because the author did not know I existed. And because he was only writing a children’s book. He had no idea he was writing about something that was actually going to happen. And I think because I might not even supposed to be here.’ She shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have been had Gandalf not decided to interfere.’

She still strongly disliked the wizard for that deed, even if a small treacherous part of her was grateful for it. Had she not come here she would never have met these guys and she would be lying through her teeth if she said she wished she had never known them. Because she liked their company, most of them at least. She would not have wanted to miss out on that either.

Kíli had done the maths in the time she had been pondering that and his entire face lit up in a dazzling smile. ‘You can change things.’

There it was again, the hope and expectation, reminding Kate of why she had wanted to leave so soon in the first place. It was like a suffocating weight pressing her down, making it hard to breathe. No wonder Thorin was so moody so often. Anyone with so much responsibility had to be. How did people even live like this?

‘Gandalf hopes so.’ She was uncomfortably aware of how curt and formal she sounded. ‘And I’ll do my best to live up to those expectations.’ She had sworn to do so only a few hours ago, but the weight on her shoulders intensified in tenfold as she spoke the words. Anxious as she was to change the topic of this conversation, which had, she realised, gone a long way from the matter of who would be paired up with whom for the last walk to Beorn’s house – of all things to bicker about. ‘So, I’ll walk with Bombur, I suppose,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Bombur?’ She had really come to like the fat dwarf. He was a gentle soul and Kate realised she had come to appreciate his company. His concerns were of a simple nature and with all the complex business she got herself involved with lately, simplicity was a welcome thing to the company advisor.

Bombur had already started to voice his consent, when Balin protested. ‘Ah, but you’re the company advisor, lass. We can’t have you arriving last.’

Kate shrugged. ‘What our host doesn’t know won’t hurt him either. It’s perfectly all right, Balin.’ And she did not trust that elderly dwarf that much anymore, not where it came to matters such as these. Gandalf may not waste his time trying to match people, but Balin had clearly no reservations about meddling in people’s personal lives. And for some reason she had the idea that Balin had been rather warming to the elves’ ridiculous assumption that Thorin and Kate were romantically involved, although why was entirely beyond her. And she was convinced that he was about to suggest that as official advisor she should walk with Thorin rather than with someone like Bombur, who, although kind, was not a truly important person among the dwarves.

She was proven right in that assumption the very next second when Balin proposed exactly that, gaining him confirming nods from the rest of the company, annoying Kate to no end. It was a small consolation to know that they at least had no ulterior motives for sending her with Thorin. They truly believed she should go with him and be one of the first ones to be introduced because she was the company’s official advisor. Small consolation indeed, but it did remind her of the responsibility she had taken on once again – not that she had been in danger of forgetting in the first place.

Well, she had forgotten about it when she swore that oath. When she had done that she had only wanted Thorin to let go of her arm before it started to bruise. And if that meant that she had to make some kind of vow to remain with the company, a matter which she had no choice in anyway, then that was what she would do. Kate only realised that this meant more to Thorin than it did to her when he made an oath to her in return. She had become somewhat uncomfortable then, almost regretting agreeing to this in the first place. It was only then that she realised that she now took on a responsibility she might not have wanted to take in the first place.

But the time for choosing was over now. She had made a choice, even if she may not have thought all that much about the consequences when she made it. And there would be no going back from this now, so she would stick with it. Thorin had asked for loyalty, and it would seem that was what he would get, even when it had not been given willingly.

‘Whatever you want,’ she muttered.

Thorin did not look all that enthusiastic, and for some reason neither did Dori and Nori, but Gandalf’s whistle prevented them from getting into an another pointless argument again. That made it come right in time in Kate’s opinion. She was quite done with all the fighting and bickering for one day, and if it wasn’t too much to ask, then for several more days as well.

‘See you in minute, I guess,’ she grinned, suddenly anxious to get away from here. She had wondered what Beorn’s house would look like and what the skin-changer himself would be. So far her imagination had not been able to come up with something.

They left the others before another word could be said, walking down the same path Gandalf and Bilbo had taken. Thorin was remarkably quiet. The silence wasn’t unfriendly, though. It was more like he was deep in thought, something Kate could understand all too well these last few days. The more responsibility one had, the more thinking they needed to do.

But in the end she was the one to break the silence. ‘Why did you ask for the knowledge of the book back there?’ The question had not been far from her mind ever since Thorin had first all but demanded that she share what she knew.

He arched an eyebrow at her, apparently somewhat confused about the question asked. ‘Why would I not?’ he countered. ‘Had we not agreed that I would listen to your advice?’

He had of course, but that was not exactly what she had meant when she posed the question. ‘No, I mean, why did you ask in front of all the others? Are you not afraid it will undermine your authority when you ask me for advice when the others are present?’ She had always believed that was the reason why he had not done so before, that he had always demanded answers in relative privacy, away from prying eyes and ears. Kate thought this was because he wanted to appear as the leader who knew everything and needing advice meant that he could not do what he needed to do all by himself. Naturally that was impossible to do anyway, but it hadn’t stopped him from trying, or at least from keeping up the illusion.

Thorin’s eyes were fixed upon the road. ‘I do not know.’ He almost sounded vulnerable now.

Now that was something Kate did not understand. Heaven knew she wasn’t always sure why she acted as she did, so she was hardly going to bite Thorin’s head off for not always knowing either. Nevertheless she sensed that he was not in the mood to delve into this any deeper and the silence returned. The trees were letting through more light here and Kate enjoyed the sunlight on her skin. Inappropriate or not, she had missed this. And Beorn was probably going to think they were a strange bunch anyway. There would not be much reputation or first impressions to ruin.

From a distance she could see the house, large and made entirely out of wood. It was exactly how it had been described in the book and this reassured the advisor. At least this meant that something was as she had always known it to be.

‘You know, when you introduce yourself, don’t add the at your service bit.’ She only just remembered that now. She had read it only this morning and had then told herself that she should inform her companions, so they would not annoy their host before he had granted them the hospitality of his house. But of course so much had happened since then, that she had entirely forgotten to tell the others.

Now Thorin’s head did turn in her direction. ‘Why?’ he demanded.

Kate shrugged. ‘According to the book he doesn’t like that. Something about when he needs your service he’ll ask for it.’

Thorin nodded. They were walking into the garden now. There were flowers everywhere. It made the place look friendly. It made the place look _homely_ , she corrected herself, and Kate couldn’t help but smile at the relaxed atmosphere that surrounded them. It lifted the weight that had been on her shoulders. Thorin however did not seem to react to it. He was still on a mission and until he had completed it, he would not let down his guard.

Gandalf and Bilbo were seated in front of the house, a huge man with black hair next to them. The wizard seemed entirely relaxed, acting like he belonged here, but Bilbo seemed a bit uneasy and Kate could not blame him for that. She would have been too had she found herself between Gandalf and the enormous skin-changer who could change in a black bear the moment it pleased him to do so. Said skin-changer appeared to be displeased. It was not that unlikely that he was starting to realise that Gandalf had not been entirely honest about the size of the company. Poor guy. He had not yet heard that being forthcoming with information was not a trait of Gandalf’s. As unfortunate as that would be, Kate found that she could not blame him should he decide he was not prepared to put up with that kind of behaviour.

‘Ah, there they are!’ The cheerfulness in Gandalf’s voice sounded genuine, probably was. His fits of temper were short-lived and could probably not hold a grudge to save his life. It was one of the reasons why it was so difficult to remain angry with him. That and his friendly old grandfather looks, she added wryly to herself.

Beorn sized them up. Kate had never been really tall, but next to this man she felt like a proper dwarf. He was huge and in no small degree intimidating as he practically loomed over them. ‘And who are you?’ he boomed. He definitely had the voice to match, the sound of it carrying across the garden.

‘Catherine Andrews, sir,’ she replied. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Of that she was of course not yet sure, but at least it was polite. And that had never been known to hurt anyone.

‘Thorin Oakenshield,’ Thorin introduced himself. The words seemed to be coming from between clenched teeth. It didn’t take much to realise that he would really rather not be here. ‘At your service.’

Kate would have groaned if she thought she would not draw people’s attention by doing that. She had warned him not to do this. Had he even been listening to her?

And Beorn reacted as she had predicted. He huffed. ‘I do not need your service, thank you,’ the skin-changer rumbled. ‘But I expect you need mine.’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I told you so! Seriously, don’t dwarves ever listen at all when you tell them something?_


	31. Sound of Music

_Beorn turned out to be a quite gentle soul. He was intimidating, that much was true, but I had a feeling that we were not supposed to be the ones that should be intimidated. At any rate he took the arrival of more and more dwarves remarkably well for someone who apparently had a firm and longstanding dislike of the dwarven race. Maybe that really was the result of the tale Gandalf was telling, but maybe he just wasn’t that opposed to guests as he tried to make us believe. His manners were a bit rough, but he was no less friendly for it and despite his looks I took a liking to him._

_Your father was another matter entirely. I am well aware that all of you were spying on the trade talks we had with the elves several years back – and no, denying will not do you any good, dears – so I think you will also recall Thorin’s disapproving look whenever it was expected of him to talk directly – and politely! – to Thranduil. It was that look that told him that if given the choice he would rather run the elf through or else run as far away from his presence as he could. It was exactly that look that was also on his face when we arrived at Beorn’s house, although I think it’s fair to say that the urge to run him through was not all that present back then. That does not mean however that he was not fully prepared to use violence should the situation ask for it._

_And he was not the only one who was tense. My companions were tense as well, even if they did indeed appreciate the fact that there was a decent meal available. They were acting like they were sitting on hedgehogs rather than chairs and my assurances that no harm would come to us here did almost nothing to calm them. In a way I understood their restlessness – and their frustration over the absence of meat on the menu – because dwarves tended to be uneasy around people that were taller than they were. Gandalf they could put up with – if not with the most enthusiasm I had ever witnessed – because of his kind manners and altogether non-threatening appearance – when he wanted to appear in such a fashion of course. And Gandalf had the added bonus of being very useful to the quest. But not even around him my new friends and family were totally at ease. And Beorn was by far the tallest person I had ever encountered, and was somewhat threatening at that. Even I would rather stay a bit out of his way._

_So I think we were all rather relieved when the skin-changer announced after dinner that he would pop out for a while…_

Thorin would never admit this when called on, but the presence of the huge skin-changer unnerved him. Even Gandalf seemed frail and harmless in comparison and he had seen the wizard in action and at his most dangerous. It was almost a relief when Beorn told them he would leave them for the night.

They had been ordered to stay inside and make themselves at home. Most of the company had taken that as their cue to find a comfortable spot and turn in for the night. It was dark outside and quite possibly very late already, but Thorin did not find rest here, same as in Rivendell. He knew there was no real reason to be as uncomfortable as he was. Their host was an intimidating man, no doubt, but he also had no intention of harming them, so unlike the elves they had been forced to stay with for an entire week. Quite the opposite, he seemed to like them, although Thorin was positive that most of that was the result of the company being responsible for the demise of the Great Goblin, who the skin-changer hated with a passion. He had been practically beaming when Gandalf relayed that part of their tale to him.

Beorn, so he had come to learn, hated goblins as fiercely as Thorin himself, which gave them some common ground. It did nothing however to make him any more at ease in the man’s presence. But at least the company had been able to relax some now that he had left, if Bombur’s loud snoring was anything to go by. The fattest dwarf was lying on the other end of the house, but Thorin could hear him loud and clear. It was a small miracle that any of the others near him were able to sleep at all with the noise Bombur made. That snoring of his could wake the dead, Thorin thought with a snort.

Gandalf had disappeared out of Thorin’s line of sight and for the moment he could really not care less where the wizard had gone to. If Kate’s theory was right he had been manipulating the entire quest so far and that did not particularly warm Thorin to the idea of having him around. When everyone had cooled off some there were questions that needed answering, although he doubted Gandalf would reveal much.

With some amusement he remembered the advisor hurling Gandalf’s pipe into the Anduin. It was one of the funniest things he had seen in a long time. And of course it had been nice to not be the one who was on the receiving end of Kate’s anger for once. As king it was expected of him to behave himself, even if he was practically boiling over with rage. It came with the territory. He could never have done what Kate had done back there, no matter how much he wanted to. Fortunately the advisor was not bound by such rules.

The advisor herself had made herself comfortable near the fireplace. She was lying on her bedroll, reading again. She tended to do that before she went to sleep. Some time ago he had overheard her telling Ori that it calmed her mind. And there would be some calming for her to do after those verbal explosions today. Her fit of temper this morning had to be the most fiery he had ever seen in her. And strangely enough it had been a matter of Middle Earth, of the quest, she had gotten so worked up about, not about Gandalf’s refusal to let her go home. That wasn’t something that had escaped his notice.

Thorin’s eyes wandered across the room, settling on an object in the far back of the hall, where he had not yet been. Right now he wondered why not. The object standing there was a harp, Thorin’s instrument of choice. Some thought it a strange instrument to be playing for a warrior, but he did not. Kate had her reading to calm her mind, he had music. In times of distress and crisis it brought him some measure of relief, of peace. And Mahal knew that was a hard thing to come by. Playing the harp calmed his heart, stilled his thoughts. It allowed him to pour his feelings into the music and for some precious moments he could forget about the world and the burdens it had placed on his shoulders.

His feet now carried him to the instrument almost of their own volition. Mahal knew the thoughts were racing through his head enough as it was. They had not been still ever since that first conversation he had with Gandalf in Bree, when the wizard suggested they worked together to defeat Smaug for once and for all. There had been no peace since that night, the thoughts of the quest driving him, allowing him no rest until the task was done. It would be good to pour some of that restlessness into music. He doubted he would have to worry much about the noise. If his men were able to sleep through Bombur’s snoring, they could sleep through some soft harp music as well.

It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders the moment his fingers came into contact with the strings. There was no thinking involved. He played, let his fingers decide what song came out. The rest of the world disappeared and for a while he could just lose himself to the songs he played. For a few hours he could be a musician, not a king who had the fate of his people in his hands, who had more responsibility to shoulder than he sometimes thought he could manage. It was only when he stopped and took the time to do the simple things that he realised exactly how much this cost him. He had seen his reflection in the river today and he looked old and weary, even to his own eyes. His hair was already greying, but that had not been the thing that had worried him. It was the look in his own eyes, that was where he looked old.

He did not know how long he had played, allowing his thoughts to roam freely, when he became aware of someone else near him. His fingers stilled and his head swivelled in the direction of the shape to his left. He found himself looking at the company advisor, who had seated herself on the ground, with her back against the wall and a book in her hands. She seemed relaxed and at ease, her legs folded underneath her and a small smile on her face when she read.

When she realised the music had stopped however she looked up. ‘No need to stop playing because of me. Just ignore me.’ She shot him an almost apologetic smile. ‘I won’t get in your way.’

If only. She had been in his way since the moment she had set foot in Middle Earth. ‘Why are you here?’ he questioned. Last he checked she had been near the fire. He did not see why she would come over here when she had a perfectly good spot to do her reading over there.

Kate shrugged. ‘I like the music,’ she clarified.

‘Was it not audible where you were?’ There was something about her presence here that was unnerving him, even if he could not really put his finger on it. Maybe it was because she acted like she belonged here. Maybe it was because some part of Thorin was feeling like she indeed did. It was strange and in a way frightening, not that he would be heard admitting that anytime soon.

‘Hardly,’ Kate snorted. ‘Bombur’s snoring was spoiling it somewhat for me, you know. So I just thought I’d move a bit closer to hear it better.’ She looked up at him, hesitance obvious in her eyes. ‘But I can go back if you’re bothered by my presence.’

Thorin resisted the urge to tell her she had been a bother ever since he had met her. ‘You are allowed to stay,’ he told her.

He had not meant that as an invitation to come closer, but clearly that was how she took it. She closed the book and got to her feet, walking over to the harp. Her fingers traced the shape with gentle admiration. ‘It’s a beautiful instrument,’ she commented. ‘And very much like how they look at home.’

Now this had Thorin look at her in surprise. ‘Do you play?’

The advisor shook her head. ‘No, my mother does. She’s quite good at it too, used to play all the time when I was little. I used to sit at her feet and just listen to the music she created.’ She shrugged, appearing to be a bit embarrassed. ‘It’s just good to hear a harp being played again. Reminds me of home a bit, I suppose, of the good things in life.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s good to remember the simple things, is it not? Lately it just seems too easy to lose sight of the little things with all these big events going on.’

It was a deep thought, something Thorin had not quite expected to hear from her. Kate usually behaved as one who had only just reached adulthood, who had still all the hot-headedness and enthusiasm of a child. But these were not the words of a child that she spoke. It was something he expected to hear from one of his older friends. With some shock he realised that Kate had matured a lot over the last few weeks, or, more specifically, over the last few days. A girl had gone into the Misty Mountains, but a woman had emerged. She could still be as short-tempered as she had ever been, because that was a part of who she was, but she had also shown responsibility and loyalty. Despite her wish to leave, this was also the woman who had risked her life trying to save him from certain death by Azog’s hand.

He gave a curt nod in confirmation. ‘Indeed,’ he agreed.

Stranger still was that her thoughts seemed to mirror his. Maybe they had spent too much time in each other’s company these last few days. What was the reason that they seemed to end up near the other all the time anyway? There were more people around and they both spent a lot of time with those as well, but in the end they always ended up together; in fights, in the eagle’s nest and sometimes when they had made camp as well. He wondered if he should think this an alarming development, bur remembered then that Kate was the company’s advisor. It was inevitable that he would spend time in her presence. There was still no ground for the elves’ and goblins’ ridiculous assumptions.

‘Well, at least we’ll have some days of rest here,’ Kate said, a small smile on her face as she looked over to the corner where most of the dwarves had set up camp. ‘Which was about time if their snoring is any indication.’

Thorin could not hide his smile entirely. Bombur was by far the loudest, but there was no denying that there was a chorus of snoring at the other end of the house.

‘You should play lullabies more often,’ the advisor remarked. ‘I think they’re all out cold, even Bilbo.’

‘You are not,’ Thorin felt obliged to point out.

‘I’m not tired,’ she countered. She stifled a yawn. ‘Not very tired at least. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep with all that snoring,’ she added. ‘And I can just sit here and read. That’s okay, isn’t it? I am not bothering you?’

‘You are welcome to stay,’ Thorin forced himself to say. It wasn’t the truth, but he would not be heard saying that he actually had no clue as to how handle her presence. It somehow was a different matter when they were in danger, arguing, discussing her book or forced together by circumstances. In situations like this, when they were not in danger, he had no idea how they should be acting. He supposed that they should be behaving as friends, since that was what they had agreed to be. And he feared that was going to be a challenge in and out of itself.

‘And you are welcome to play,’ Kate countered. ‘Don’t let it get to that hairy head of yours, but you’re not a bad musician.’ It appeared to be her way to give compliment and insult in the same breath and Thorin had learned that this was just how Kate Andrews was. It wasn’t like her to tell people outright that she appreciated something they did and Thorin had stopped noticing it. ‘Where did you learn to play?’

‘In Erebor,’ he replied curtly. The love for music had been passed down from his mother and just this simple answer conjured up the memory of her patiently teaching him. He had never been able to spend much time with her. There were always other things that needed doing, whether it was improving his skills for the weapons, being taught by the learned dwarves of the kingdom or learning diplomacy from his grandfather. The moments he spent with his mother and siblings had always been precious to him and learning to play the harp was a pastime that had been treasured by both of them. He now regretted that lack of time, because she had perished the day the dragon came. ‘My mother taught me.’ He was aware how curt and unkind his reply sounded.

Kate hadn’t missed out on it either. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, actually sounding like she meant this apology. ‘Was I dragging up painful memories?’

‘She died when Smaug came to Erebor,’ Thorin answered, not even sure why he was sharing this memory with her. ‘She remained behind to help as many as she could get away.’

Kate’s fingers still traced the shape of the harp absent-mindedly. ‘I am sorry,’ she said again, eyes on the instrument. ‘I did not mean to re-open old wounds, truly.’ She bit her lip. ‘Compared to that… My complaints must sound very pathetic to your ears. And I apologise for that as well. Good grief, I must have been behaving like a spoiled child when we just met.’

Thorin was not completely sure what he had expected her to say, but he was convinced that this was not it. This was indeed a more mature Kate than he had seen so far and he wondered what had brought this change about. In a way this both did and didn’t suit her. It was a good thing she started acting like an adult, but at the same time Thorin found he regretted the need for it. Too many of his people had he seen grow up in such a manner and it seemed unfair that the woman from another world, who had nothing to do with the affairs of Middle Earth, had been forced to go through the same development.

‘It is in the past,’ he said dismissively. It was true that she had behaved like a child back then in Bag End, but so many things had happened since that night that he found he could not truly blame her for her behaviour then. That was what it meant to be friends, he supposed.

Kate nodded, but she still did not meet his eyes. ‘Yes. I suppose it is. It doesn’t make my behaviour any less childish, though.’ The smallest hint of a smile returned to her face. ‘I’ll try to be a little less of a bother in future.’

‘I did not call you a bother,’ Thorin reminded her.

‘No, I think burden was the word used.’ The smile was back for real now, as was the teasing tone in her voice. ‘And some things don’t need to be spoken to be heard all the same.’ When he looked up at her in confusion, she chuckled. ‘You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. Back home I was an aspiring journalist and I did a lot of interviews with people in the months before I came here. Reading between the lines was almost part of my job.’

Thorin still did not know what kind of work it was that she had done there, but he wasn’t going to put his ignorance on display if he could help it. ‘I do not think you a burden,’ he told her, almost sternly. Not anymore at least, not since he had realised just how useful Kate’s knowledge could be to the quest. She had created a place amongst their number for herself, same as Mr Baggins had done when he had stormed at the orc that had been about to take Thorin’s head off, and with nothing more than that letter opener of his at that. He may have been reluctant to take the two of them with him, but he would admit that they had proven themselves to be useful. Maybe Gandalf was not as crazy as he had always believed him to be. Maybe he had, just this once, known exactly what he was doing. Now that would be a first.

Kate seemed unsure of how to react to those words. ‘Progress again,’ she commented in the end. ‘We seem to do that all the time lately.’ Her fingers were drawing patterns on the harp now. ‘And you can play, you know. I’ll just get lost and leave you to play.’ She indeed made to move back to her previous spot.

‘Do you sing, Kate?’ The words had left his mouth before he had given them permission to do so and for a few moments he wondered where they had come from. But then he shrugged it away. This was a normal thing to do with friends.

‘A little,’ Kate replied. ‘But I doubt there are songs we both know.’

One corner of his mouth curled up. ‘I do not believe that is the truth,’ he disagreed, unable to fight back the smirk that found its way to his face. ‘Bofur has been teaching you some songs, hasn’t he?’

Kate coloured a bright crimson. ‘If you think I’m going to sing those, you’ve got another thing coming, Thorin Oakenshield.’ It was only then that she realised he had been teasing her and she sent him a half-hearted glare. ‘Very funny.’

‘That it was,’ he agreed.

‘I bet,’ came the muttered reply. ‘I should probably learn not to take you too seriously from now on.’ She frowned at him. ‘But since when are you in the business of teasing people anyway? Forgive me for saying, but it doesn’t seem very like you, if you understand what I mean.’

There was no real answer to that question, because he had not been, as she phrased it, in the business of teasing people for a long time, not since Erebor had fallen. There had been the occasional jest with Dwalin, but he could not really afford to spend time joking, not when there was an entire people to lead. Their life in the Ered Luin may not be too bad, but their existence wasn’t easy either. Maybe that was what had made him look this old. But Kate brought out something that made it feel completely natural for him to tease her and exchange jokes and witticisms. It didn’t even feel strange that she as outsider learned their language and heard their songs. And that was certainly an alarming development.

‘It is merely something you have not seen before,’ Thorin pointed out. Because Mahal knew that he and Frerin had been good at this light-hearted business in their younger days before they were driven out of the Mountain.

‘So it would seem,’ Kate agreed. ‘But I like it.’ Her fingers left the instrument and she walked back to where she had sat before, picking up the book she had been reading.

Thorin took it as his cue to continue playing. His fingers started the tune of a well-known dwarvish lullaby, no doubt inspired by the advisor’s remark that he should play lullabies more often. The words followed almost effortlessly. They were in Khuzdul and he was sure Kate didn’t understand enough of that tongue to grasp the song’s lyrics, but when he looked in her direction again, she had drifted off to deep slumber, the book still in her hands.

 

***

 

It was already late in the morning when Kate woke eventually. The first thing she noticed upon waking was that she was far too comfortable. She vaguely recalled dozing off with her back against the wall with harp music in the background. There had been no way that she could reasonably have ended up in her own bedroll near the fire unless she had developed a habit of sleepwalking overnight – which admittedly was highly unlikely. Another explanation did not seem possible.

But she wasn’t too alarmed. There was no danger here, not as long as they actually heeded Beorn’s instruction to not go outside for as long as it was dark. She felt lazy in the very best way. She could not even remember when she had last felt this comfortable or content, but she had a feeling that it may have been the day before she left on this trip and that seemed like another life altogether now. Sometimes she became so emerged in the affairs of this world that her life back at home felt like something of a distant dream to her; there, but not entirely real.

Kate cracked an eye open, but closed them almost right away. The bright light of day filled the hall and she needed some time to adjust to it. At least this confirmed both her suspicions: she had indeed slept till late morning and she had somehow been returned to her own bedroll, even when she had fallen asleep on the other end of the house.

Her gaze sought out the spot she had sat the previous night only to find it abandoned. The harp was still there, but there was nothing to suggest it had ever been played or that two people had spent time there. To her still somewhat sleepy brain the whole encounter started to feel rather like a product of her own imagination than something that had truly happened right now. The fact that Thorin had been teasing her – something which was so unlike him – and that they had not been fighting – something that was very unlike them – added to that theory.

She was just about to dismiss it all as a fanciful dream when she realised that _The Hobbit_ was missing. If she had truly fallen asleep here, then that book should be somewhere near her, quite possibly under her head if she had fallen asleep while reading. _Not that much of a dream then._

From outside she heard her companions. Some of them were talking, others laughing. At any rate they were clearly wide awake. It was a small miracle she had slept through that racket in the first place, because if she had learned one thing from travelling with a bunch of dwarves was that they could not move quietly to save their lives and consequently she was always one of the first people awake.

Apparently not today and really she could not care less about any of it. What she did wonder about was where her book had gone to. From where she lay she could see the spot where she had sat yesterday, but there wasn’t a book in sight. She wasn’t opposed to people borrowing it – that would only make her own job easier – but she was very much opposed to people who thought that borrowing without permission was okay. And her friends should have known that. The time she had scolded Nori on top of her lungs for trying to make off with some of her jewellery in Rivendell was not likely to be forgotten by any of them. They should have known better.

She got up and searched for her boots, but eventually decided against wearing them. It was still far too hot outside for such footwear. Today she could pretend to be a hobbit – according to Kíli she looked a lot like them anyway with her curly hair – and go around barefooted. And she wasn’t going to wear anything with long sleeves either. Last night had taught her that her new friends learned to ignore it in the end.

Kate crashed almost literally into Bombur on her way out, which was no contest at all. She stumbled back, tripped over her own feet and unceremoniously ended up on her backside, which induced a round of laughter from the assembled dwarves. Bombur, although looking rather sheepish, was still standing on his own two feet.

‘Watch where you’re going, Kate!’ Fíli laughed. ‘Bombur can’t be that hard to miss now, can he?’

‘There’s no arguing that point,’ she agreed. She shook her head good-naturedly and let Bombur help her to her feet. ‘Not your fault,’ she added. ‘I was still half asleep.’ _And wondering where the hell my book has gotten to_. ‘Any chance of getting some breakfast anywhere?’

‘I saved you some!’ Ori spoke up. He was seated at the far end of the table on the veranda.

‘Just in time or Bombur would have eaten it all,’ Bofur chimed in.

Said dwarf turned a shade of bright red and Kate felt a little sorry for him. Some weeks ago she would probably have snapped at him for not watching where he was going, but that was a few weeks ago. Right now, things had changed. She could not pinpoint when said change had occurred, but it had and now she was part of the gang, so to speak. It could have been her helping Thorin out on the battlefield, it could have been that night on the Great Shelf or it could have been revealing her knowledge the book, the reason why she was not as useless as some of them had previously believed. But when this had happened did not really matter, it just had. And now that she knew she was not going back any time in the foreseeable future, she dared to let herself enjoy this newfound friendship. Bantering like this made her feel one of the boys, and not the delicate female the lot of them sometimes seemed to believe she was. And that suited her just fine, because that was how things at home had always been.

‘Ah, knock it off, Bofur,’ she chastised playfully. ‘He just has a healthy appetite, is all.’ _And he finishes my meals whenever you lot dump too much on my plate again_. ‘And you’ll have to admit that comes in pretty handy when we need to bump the orcs away from us again.’ She had seen him do that when they made their escape from Goblin-town and she had deemed it an impressive feat.

‘Ha!’ Kíli let out a bark of laughter. ‘That can’t be said about you, though, right, Kate? About the healthy appetite?’

She sent him her most stern look. ‘I’ve got enough appetite for breakfast,’ she informed him. ‘And that means you don’t get to eat my portion.’

The flash op disappointment on his face was enough to tell her that this assessment of the situation had been spot on. It took her some effort to bite back the smirk that was dying to creep onto her face. ‘Balin is right,’ he murmured. ‘You _do_ sound like Thorin.’

‘I am trying to work out if that was a compliment or an insult,’ she told him. But she was fairly sure that it was the last one. ‘But I am going to do that while eating my breakfast. Shove over, will you?’

She took a spot and Ori pushed a plate her way. Kate felt touched that he had actually meant it when he said that he had saved her some food, because it was all too obvious that the rest of the food was currently drifting around in the stomachs of the dwarves. She sent them a reproachful look and most of them had at least the good sense to look a little ashamed. She supposed she should be glad that Ori had the good sense to collect something from the table or there’d have nothing been left. She figured Dori would have done the same had he been here – and he’d have given the company a good scolding to go with it – but this was just a small group sitting here, consisting of Ori, Fíli, Kíli, Bofur, Bombur and Balin. The latter was watching the whole encounter with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. It was the look of the patient grandfather watching the younger generation’s antics. Somehow it made Kate feel like a kid all over again.

‘Thanks, Ori,’ she told her new brother. ‘Or this whole sorry lot would have wolfed it all down.’

‘You’re welcome.’ The scribe favoured her with a dazzling smile.

‘You should have gotten up earlier, Kate,’ Bofur commented.

The advisor snorted. ‘Now why on earth would I do that? We’re having the time to rest now. A girl can sleep in if she chooses, right?’

‘You should have gone to sleep earlier then,’ he insisted. Something about the tone of voice reminded her of Balin when he was trying to be subtle about something and nothing good had ever followed it. It would be a fair guess to say that today was no exception.

‘And how, pray, would I have done that with that snoring concerto the rest of you kept up?’ she deflected whatever it was that Bofur was implying. ‘That noise would wake the dead.’

Kíli laughed. As one of the dwarves that didn’t snore he could do that, she supposed. ‘You’ll learn to live with it.’

 _And by the time I’m used to it, I will be going back home_. She did not know why this thought made her feel sad, but she would not dwell on it. It did not suit the light mood that was present here. ‘I suppose I will,’ she replied with a smirk. ‘Once I find myself some decent earplugs.’

‘Thorin’s lullaby seemed to help as well,’ Bofur commented.

So, that was why her alarm bells had been going off just now. It was that again, wasn’t it? ‘It drowned out the noise,’ Kate pointed out. Bugger this lot! What was this, the get-Thorin-and-Kate-together-conspiracy? Were they really this insane that they believed the elves’ ridiculous assumption? And it was not as if the idea was so logical. Everyone who had assumed that she was Thorin’s wife had in almost the same sentence judged it to be rare, strange, unheard of. Unusual, the Great Goblin had said. And from what Kate had gathered marriages between individuals from different races did just not happen. There were some examples between men and elves, but as far as she aware not one single dwarf had ever married someone from another race. So where did this assumption come from?

Bofur’s smile spelled trouble for everyone with eyes to see it.

‘Don’t you even dare think it,’ she warned him. ‘I am done with this whole business, do you hear me? Thorin and I are friends. There is nothing, I repeat _nothing_ , else going on. Quite frankly, this is getting on my nerves.’ The irritation was steadily building to a full-out anger-attack. ‘And the last person to get on my nerves…’

‘… Got his pipe thrown in the river,’ Fíli finished. ‘We all saw it.’

‘Then you know what to expect,’ Kate countered. ‘Seriously, guys, knock it off.’

Bofur threw his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. ‘I am not saying anything.’

Kate snorted. ‘No, but you were going to. Same thing. And speaking of things we weren’t talking about, anyone any idea where my book has gone off to?’ Changing the topic would be a wise decisions by all accounts. ‘I don’t think it has grown legs overnight and has taken itself for a walk.’ That question had been on her mind she discovered the novel missing anyway and it would be nice to have some answers. She liked her companions – she would not go back on that – but they had to understand that there were limits, such as not touching her belongings without permission or meddling in her lack of a love life, such as it was. And she was planning on maintaining the lack of a love life, so their insinuations were pointless anyway.

‘I saw Thorin walk away with it, I think,’ Kíli said with a frown. ‘And he said he did not want to be disturbed.’

Kate was not entirely sure if this was a good development or not. Admittedly she had been the one to urge Thorin to read the sodding book in the first place and she thought she had convinced him to do that, but in the oath he had made to her had been no mention of reading the novel for himself. He had only said that he would listen to her advice, which was not the same thing. And Kate had not missed out on that. But she had told herself to accept his choice, because she could not truly blame him for it. In his place she would probably be a little scared as well to read a novel that predicted her own death. She would have to make do with giving the advice and hoping that Thorin would let her do what she was here for.

To now learn that he had made off with the book, presumably to read it, came as a slight surprise to her, even if it should not have been entirely unexpected. But she’d be damned if she let any of her surprise show. They didn’t need to know of the arrangement they had made. It was none of their concern.

‘Of course,’ she said, acting as if she had only just remembered something. ‘He said that he would.’ Strictly speaking that wasn’t a lie, so she did not feel too bad about it. ‘It must have escaped my mind.’

The teasing smile was back on Bofur’s face. ‘Thorin’s music must have something to do with that.’

Kate sent him the filthiest look she could muster. ‘I dare you to repeat such words within his hearing distance,’ she growled, knowing full well that such a thing would never ever happen. Such comments were only made when Thorin wasn’t there to hear them. For once Kate wished she had some of the dwarf king’s authority so she could silence them with a single glare. ‘If not, I’d advise you to keep your mouth well and truly shut.’

But she wasn’t in any position to boss the cheerful dwarf around and well he knew it. ‘Ah, lass…’

‘It’s your pipe,’ she reminded him. Deciding that continuing on this subject would only tempt him to make more remarks she did not want to hear, she turned to Ori. ‘How about some Khuzdul lessons?’ she suggested. ‘It’s been ages since we had them and I swear I’m forgetting most of those bloody grammar rules you’re trying to get into my head.’ Khuzdul lessons at least were safe. Most of the company accepted it now, even if Dwalin still did so grudgingly, and there was no chance that the topic could shift to anything more dangerous than those grammar rules she had so much problems with.

Ori’s face lit up. Kate had the feeling her new brother enjoyed his role as her teacher very much and she could not fault him for that; she enjoyed their lessons as well. ‘I’ll go and get my papers,’ he announced. He had all the enthusiasm of a younger sibling, but Kate knew he had decades on her and when he was teaching her – whether it was Khuzdul or Middle Earth and its customs in general – he got this air of a teacher over him and he appeared older.

And Kate had found that she loved the time spent with her new family. Dealing with Nori was still a little awkward and to be quite honest, it was him she’d suspected first when she found her book was missing. Nori could just not help himself. But when it came down to it, they really were a family and Kate could still not for the life of her figure out how it had come to be this way. It had happened without her noticing and, although frightening at first, she would now readily admit that it felt reassuring in a way as well.

Ori went back inside, but came back with his bag. Most of his luggage consisted of journals, quills, ink and spare parchment, something Dori could not wholly approve of, since he was of the opinion those things only took up valuable space that should be filled with useful things. Kate could have sworn that he had rolled his eyes in exasperation when he had discovered the three books his newfound sister carried around.

Ori took out a sheaf of parchment, half of which crashed to the ground when he tried to place it on the table because the bag toppled over and Ori tried to stop that from falling as well. The end result was that both parchment and bag ended up on the floor, inducing laughter from their companions and another filthy look from Kate. ‘If you’ve got nothing useful to do, you can always help and pick it up,’ she snapped. ‘Or else get the hell out of here and bother somebody else.’

Kíli’s nose wrinkled. ‘You really are Dori’s sister, are you not?’

‘Just as bossy,’ someone else added under their breath. Kate suspected Fíli.

She snorted and dove under the table and gave the good example herself. She grabbed the pile nearest to her and laid it on the table. ‘There you go, Ori.’ She was just about to grab the remaining parchments when her eye fell on what was exactly on the ones she had just picked up.

It were drawings, and fairly good ones at that. The one she was looking at was a good likeness of the Great Goblin at his most ridiculous. He could not have drawn that while they were there, so he’d had to work from memory, which made it even more impressive in Kate’s eyes. He got the goblin king spot on, from that ridiculous excuse for a chin to his far too large belly.

‘This is good, Ori,’ she commented. ‘Do you mind if I take a look?’

The hint of a blush graced her brother’s cheeks at hearing that compliment. ‘You like it?’ He sounded a bit unsure.

‘Would I say it’s good when I didn’t?’ she shot back. ‘You’re an artist, that’s what.’

Kate looked through the drawings, feeling something that may well be called sisterly pride. _Oh, there you go, Catherine. You even start acting all sisterly_. No matter how much she had tried to prevent this, she really had become part of the whole Ri family now. Maybe it was just as well that her name didn’t rhyme with those of her new brothers or she might have lost sight of her true identity entirely.

But sisterly pride coming into play or not, there was no denying that the drawings were good and she enjoyed looking at them. Ori had made some sketches of Rivendell and the Shire and quite a few from the company as well. It was their journey in drawing, and one day it would make a wonderful addition to the journal he was already keeping.

And then she froze into place as her eye fell on a sketch almost at the bottom of the pile. It was simple enough, and obviously not quite finished yet. It showed her and Thorin, obviously caught up in some conversation or other. They were facing each other, but Kate had been portrayed as half turned away from the dwarf, the only thing preventing her from doing so completely Thorin’s grip on her wrist.

She would have thought this funny and quite defining for how they behaved around one another, had she not seen the expressions Ori had drawn. The picture-Thorin did not seem annoyed with her, but rather serious and in a way even concerned. And she may have expected her drawing self to look annoyed or angry, but clearly that was not what Ori had made of it. The expression he had drawn was teasing maybe, half smiling. She frowned as she realised that she was wearing the short-sleeved shirt in the drawing.

And then it hit her: this was the moment they had made those oaths only the previous day. Was this what that had looked like? Good grief, they did not even look like they were arguing and fighting. Had there been other people’s faces in this sketch, she would have said she was looking at some kind of wedding vow exchange. But they were not other people’s faces and this was what the company had seen.

Kate choked almost on the thought. If this was really what it looked like to an outsider, could she really be surprised everyone seemed to have jumped to conclusions, no matter how far-fetched or unusual they were? Small wonder everyone they had encountered so far was positive that she was romantically involved with Thorin. If she saw a couple like this back at home, she would have said that they were all over each other. It did not help at all that in her dream that was the exact thing Jacko had said about Thorin and her. Not at all.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Shit, shit,_ shit _! This complicates things. A lot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for today. The harp scene was a request of someone on ff, who asked for this months ago, and I finally managed to work it into the story. I hope you guys like it.  
> On a more serious note, the update rate of the story is going down to once a week from now on. This is temporary, for three weeks at most and then I will go back to twice a week. Have a little patience with me please. With any luck, I might be able to get back to this update rate sooner, but I can’t make any promises.   
> So, the next update will be Sunday. In the meantime I’d love to hear your opinion on this chapter! Please comment?


	32. Agreement

_To say that I got a heart attack seeing that sketch would be exaggerated. But it_ did _manage to drive the message home that Thorin and I had managed to give our companions a very wrong impression of what was actually going on. And that was quite enough to make me realise that I really had to watch my actions from then on. I am sure that at this point in time there really was nothing else than friendship going on between the two of us, no matter what the others said, and even that friendship was undefined and fragile._

_The others had not even noticed that I was not paying attention to whatever was going on around me and at that time that suited me perfectly and they in turn did not seem to have realised that my mind was miles away. I had no intention of confirming any of their suspicions and so I stored away the drawings with a last compliment to Ori and asked him if we could get to our lessons._

_The morning passed rather uneventful for me after that. The others left us to go and do whatever it was that they wanted or needed to do and I directed my attention towards the Khuzdul grammar. That distracted me until lunch break. Most of the company joined us on the veranda to eat, with two exceptions: Thorin and Gandalf. Now, the latter’s absence did not surprise me at all; Gandalf came and went as he pleased. But Thorin’s disappearing act reminded me of the fact that he had taken the book and was apparently reading it._

_As it turned out, he wasn’t enjoying the read very much…_

 

Thorin did not exactly know why he took the book. At first he knew. It belonged to Kate and to leave it lying there next to the harp for everyone to take, Kate would not thank him for that. It was a natural thing to go back for the novel after he had carried the advisor back to her bedroll.

He had however not counted on the possibility of the book still lying there opened, almost inviting him to read it. There were notes scribbled next to the text, under the text, above the text, everywhere where the advisor had seen a bit of room to write things down. He blamed the last remnants of his youthful curiosity for not just picking it up and slamming it shut as he should have done. Instead he had picked it up and read one of the things Kate had written down. _Not recommendable, I swear_ , was the first thing that caught his eyes, a small arrow pointing at a sentence in the text that, in hindsight very predictably, dealt with the flight by eagle.

He could feel a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he remembered how frightened the advisor had been when forced onto the back of an eagle, even when said eagle had promised to not let her fall.

Thorin had not made a conscious decision to move back to the beginning of the book to read some of the other comments she had written, but when he checked again, he was doing it. It was his attempt to understand more of the advisor’s character, he told himself, since he had so far failed to understand what was driving her to do the things she did. She was a mystery and those notes were valuable insights in her thoughts.

No, he would refrain from reading the book just yet. He would read a few notes and then place it back next to Kate’s rucksack. Then when morning came and they had all rested he could ask for it. Thorin remembered all too well the temper tantrum she had thrown when Nori had tried to make off with something that belonged to her and he could do without such an incident. Mahal knew they had had their fair share of fights over the last few months and now that they finally were friends, it would be nice not to be the one on the receiving end of her anger. He would happily leave that privilege to Gandalf.

He just had not counted on the book’s allure and the power of his own curiosity. He had already read the first chapter, so it could hardly hurt to do that again, even without the permission of the book’s owner. And the comments she had written were proving to be amusing as well as a useful insight in the workings of her mind. _Lovely mental picture. Just a shame that this did not happen for real_ , was scribbled next to the text at the point where it stated that Thorin as well as his companions had taken a fall when Bilbo Baggins opened the door rather abruptly. He assumed that this had been written before they decided to be friends. It sounded like something she may have thought when they were still fighting each other at every turn.

 _For the life of me I_ cannot _see Thorin make speeches like_ that _. Not that you hear me complain_. This note was written underneath a long speech that Thorin’s book-self seemed to be making in Bag End. For some reason this reassured him. It reminded him that not everything that was in this book needed to be true. There were things that were different, could go different in future as well.

But he had to admit that the details may be wrong on some occasions, but the greater story was true. He had established that very soon, because for some reason he found himself unable to stop reading after that first chapter. He blamed the curiosity for that. And oh well, he had promised Kate that he would read this book. He might as well do it right away.

His decision had been made and he installed himself on his bedroll with the book, only changing location when his men started to wake up. He told Kíli he did not want to be disturbed and found himself a good spot underneath some trees near the house. From where he sat he could see the garden and the people in it, but he himself was mostly concealed.

And that proved to be a good thing, for he had a difficult time keeping his reactions to some of the things that he read under control. At first he could keep his habitual calm. The things he read had already occurred, even though sometimes in a slightly different fashion than the book described, and Kate’s comments, some in clear annoyance, helped him to deal with what was written. He found _I’m having an I-told-you-so-experience here_ written at the point where they got captured by the trolls and _Bloody elves_ next to the song the elves of Rivendell had greeted them with.

At the same time this caused a shiver to go down his spine. Not all the details may be right, but some others were remarkably – frighteningly – accurate. Some of the words he remembered being spoken were written there in that book. Small wonder that Kate sometimes complained about people using lines from it, even when the people themselves were completely unaware that they were even doing it. It made him once again wonder how it was possible that a book from another world could tell so much about a quest in another world, _before_ the quest had even happened.

But this was the way things were, no matter how frightening or unpleasant and Thorin forced himself to look past it. He was a king, not a snivelling child who would run away and hide when something scared him. He could and would be able to handle this. The fate of the quest just might depend on it.

By the time he had gotten to the point in the book where the company had entered Mirkwood he was reading _The Hobbit_ as if it was a book of learning. Kate’s comments here were more business-like. In the parts that were now behind them there had been comments like that as well, but they had mingled with the advisor’s commentary about what had really happened and her own opinion of certain events.

This part of the book gave him hope in a way. The book events did not sound very appealing, but he was also convinced that some of the things written in there could easily be avoided. They just needed to be careful, use their common sense, be careful with rations and move as fast as they could. If they did that, they just might be able to make it out of those dreaded woods without running in to spiders and elves. Thorin for one found himself in favour of such an outcome.

His newfound hope however soon abandoned him and by the time he had finished reading, he could hardly stop his hands from trembling. Anyone who knew him would readily admit that it wasn’t like him to be scared so badly as to lose control of himself in such a manner. He did not do that and he could never be able to show anyone such weakness, not even Balin and Dwalin, who he had trusted with almost every fear and hope he had ever felt. Dwalin would not understand why he would let himself be shaken so badly by a book. The warrior was still sceptical about Kate’s source of knowledge, reminding Thorin all too much of his own attitude towards it when he had just learned of it. Balin would understand. He would however also say that things could be changed if he only worked together with Kate. And the dwarf king was not sure it would truly be that simple.

Dwalin, Kate, Fíli and Kíli were having a training session on the grass right before his eyes. None of them had noticed him. Dwalin was trying to get Kate to use her sword in a better manner while Fíli and Kíli were overwhelming her with their advice, causing the advisor to round on them, snapping at the brothers to keep their mouths shut. If her book was true, then the lads would be dead before too long and they were not even aware of this themselves. They were just themselves, as they had always been: cheerful, enthusiastic and wholly unconcerned about pretty much everything. But yet they were also determined to go on this quest and take back their people’s homeland. Thorin longed to send them away, to keep them safe from the terrible fate that this book predicted.

But they would not go if he sent them, he knew that. They were willing to lay down their lives if that was what it took. Fíli, as Thorin’s heir, deemed it necessary that he went with the company, because if he didn’t, he would not think himself worthy of one day succeeding Thorin. And where Fíli went, Kíli followed. It had always been like that and it would never change. And if this book was right, then they would even follow one another in death.

The king’s eyes settled on the advisor, who was trying to follow Dwalin’s instructions. She had known this all the while and yet she never had said a single thing to the lads. The only sign that she knew what was ahead was in a note next to the piece that told the reader that Fíli and Kíli would perish in battle: _Never_ ever _going to happen as long as I have a say in the matter._ And Thorin agreed with that. He would do anything if it meant he could keep his company, his _family_ safe.

But this was not the thing that had caused his hands to tremble so badly. He had accepted the possibility of him dying long ago and he would protect his men to his dying breath if need be. Those were things he could change if he only fought hard enough. That future wasn’t set in stone and he suspected it was part of the reason why Kate was with them in the first place.

No, it was his own behaviour in the book that shocked him to the core. Gold lust. He knew what it was. He had seen his own grandfather fall to it and he remembered all too well how horrible it had been. He had not been able to do anything, forced to watch as Thrór’s love for the Mountain’s wealth had consumed him until there was almost nothing left of the proud but just king Thorin remembered from before.

And now the book claimed that he would fall to it as well. It was the almost natural result of being a dwarf of the line of Durin with a history of gold lust in the family and claiming a treasure that had been a dragon’s hoard for far too long. He could feel himself go all cold inside, because he knew there would be almost no fighting this. It was an illness of the mind, hardly something one could arm oneself against. It would take over no matter what you did.

This brought him closer to turning back to the Ered Luin than anything had ever done. Giving up his life for his people, that he could do. He had anticipated that – which naturally didn’t mean he would not fight his hardest to come out alive again – and he could face that. It would be an honourable death.

But he could not face the prospect of losing his mind to the gold, not when there was an entire people depending on him to reclaim the home they had lost to the dragon. Maybe he should go back, leave the quest to Fíli and let him lead their people home. Thorin knew that if there was the slightest risk of this coming true, then he was not the king his people needed him to be.

And he feared what would become of him. The memory of Thrór was still very alive in his mind and he could _not_ become like him. He feared that everything he had been, everything that made him Thorin, before would simply cease to exist as it had been with his grandfather. His decisions and words would not be his own, but the words of a deranged lunatic, as Kate could so eloquently phrase it. And that was not what his people needed him to be. Such a madman would risk everything Thorin had fought so hard to achieve and that was a risk he could not afford to take.

And he could not share these concerns. Balin would understand, but it would frighten him. He too remembered Thrór’s gold lust. Thorin did not doubt that his old friend would try his hardest to keep Thorin from following him down that path, but when it came down to it, Thorin was his king and he would obey the orders he was given, no matter what he himself thought of them. He would not stand up to Thorin if he thought that the king was making a wrong decision, simply because he did not think it was his place to do so. In all his life Thorin had only ever met one single person who seemingly could not care less about the fact that he was a king whose orders needed to be obeyed.

‘Oi, that was not fair!’ Kate, her sword still in hand, was taking her time to glare at Dwalin as if he was not the most dangerous warrior of the entire company, but a disobedient child that was scolded for not being nice to the other kids.

‘Do you think orcs care about being fair, lass?’ Dwalin at least gave back as good as he got, wholly unimpressed by the advisor’s anger. ‘You need to be prepared for anything.’

Kate muttered something Thorin could not hear, but it had Fíli and Kíli chuckle. The advisor was the only one in the company who would not be afraid to tell people she did not like what they were doing, regardless of status. Well, Gandalf did that too, but he would not be there for the entire quest, he knew. The wizard would leave them as soon as they reached Mirkwood to attend to business the nature of which Thorin could only guess at. They would be on their own and no one except Kate was even remotely likely to tell Thorin he was out of line. Although, if he was honest, Kate was more likely to phrase it as him behaving like a hairy idiot.

Just this once the prospect of her insults was a reassurance rather than a nuisance and he had never thought he’d live to see the day he would think about it like that. But here he was and he was almost anxious for the advisor to do exactly what Gandalf had brought her here to do. The wizard’s words on the Great Shelf had stayed with Thorin ever since. _He needs someone to make him see sense every now and then, someone he cannot ignore too easily. And I’m afraid I needed someone who would not be too much in awe of his reputation to tell him the truth_. That was summing the company advisor up to perfection. Thorin did not have any real doubts that Kate would tell him whenever she believed him to be acting foolishly. Friendship or no, she was still as prone to shout at him as she had been before.

But could he ask of her to guard his mental health? He was not sure such a thing could be asked of anyone in the first place. But turning back was no longer a real option either, if it had ever been and that was something the dwarf doubted as well. Abandoning the quest had not been an option from the moment he had first decided to ally himself with the wizard. And deep down inside he would not want to return to the Ered Luin. His heart longed for home, even more so since he had seen it from a distance from the eagle’s back. The Mountain was calling to him, calling him home. To turn away now that he had laid eyes on it would be the hardest thing he would ever do. And he could not do it.

But could he ask of the advisor to help him fight this gold lust that would come to him when they reclaimed Erebor? Doing so would mean he had to confide in her, share his fear of it. And they might have agreed to be friends, but this was something so intensely personal that he was not even prepared to share it with Balin. Could he bare his soul to a loud-mouthed human woman he had only met several months ago? No, he was not afraid she would blab this information to the others. If there was one thing she excelled in, it was keeping secrets. He was just not sure he could bring himself to show weakness to her.

 _But she is the only one, apart from the wizard, who already knows about the gold lust_ , a voice in the back of his head reminded him.

And this little voice was right. Kate already knew, whether he wanted her to know or not. But she did not know how much it frightened him. Thorin wasn’t even sure that Kate’s snappy remarks would be any good in fighting the lure of Erebor’s wealth. The wizard’s words were all he based this theory on and a wizard, no matter how powerful, could be wrong.

But in the end, what choice did he have? He wasn’t sure there were choices to begin with. It would seem that he had not been able to choose his own path anymore from the moment the quest had begun. Or rather, he did have choices, but they were unthinkable and impossible. And in this case it would seem it was no different.

‘Careful!’ someone shouted from the garden.

That was all the warning he got before Kate’s sword flew into the bushes, landing only half a metre away from Thorin. He looked at the sword for a moment and let out a relieved breath that it had not harmed him, only to direct his attention at what happened in the garden right away to see what had caused said blade to land this close to him in the first place.

‘You unbelievable buffoon!’ There was no mistaking that angry tone. ‘I told you I wasn’t ready yet!’

‘Orcs are not going to wait until their opponent is ready,’ Dwalin pointed out, still calm, but he was starting to show signs of annoyance now. ‘You’ll need to learn to be ready in less than a second, because orcs are not going to give you more. And neither are the elves.’

‘Well, unless I am very much mistaken, this is still only a training session,’ Kate pointed out, apparently not ready to back down just yet. ‘And there is not an elf or orc in sight here. I’m still learning. I know it is somewhat of a disappointment to you, but I am actually not an incarnation of Superwoman.’ And when she saw the brothers’ expressions, she added: ‘And you would really do best not to comment on that.’

Dwalin just favoured her with a stern look, as if she really was nothing more than one of the men he trained back in the Blue Mountains. ‘Retrieve your sword,’ he ordered the advisor.

Kate answered that with a mock salute. ‘Yes, captain.’ She snorted and turned around, coming straight at him, keeping up a sotto voce stream of curses and complaints as she did so. It would have made Thorin at least half smile had he not have more pressing concerns on his mind.

Kate walked over to the sword, locating it with something of a relieved smile. It was obvious that she had not yet seen who was seated next to it until she bended over and picked her weapon up. She jumped away when she realised she was not alone, but the shock changed to anger in less than a second when she saw who it was that had startled her so badly. ‘Could you _not_ do that?’ she fumed. ‘You scared the crap out of me!’ If that wasn’t enough proof of the fact that this woman had no reservations about telling him exactly what she thought, then Thorin didn’t know what was.

There was silence for a moment. Kate visibly got herself together and Thorin could see the frown appear on her forehead as she was trying to decipher the meaning of him sitting here as if he was in hiding. Then her eyes fell on the book and realisation dawned. ‘You read the book.’

 

***

 

It took Kate approximately five minutes to remember why she hated training or, more specifically, why she hated training with Dwalin. He certainly wasn’t the most patient of teachers and would make her go on even when she was ready to drop from sheer exhaustion. Today she was fortunately well rested and her stomach was full, so that was not where the problem lay this time. No, it was the fact that the half-bald warrior seemed to take a pleasure in rubbing her face in just how unprepared she was for the attacks he threw at her. Kate was all too aware of her own flaws, especially when it came to her inability to swing a sword around in the right way, and therefore there was absolutely no need whatsoever to point it out to her over and over again. So when he forcefully knocked the sword from her grasp before she was ready, making it fly into the bushes bordering the garden, her temper snapped.

‘You unbelievable buffoon!’ It was not the most original thing she had ever come up with, she would readily admit that. But then, she hardly thought about insults she threw at people’s heads. They just came out. ‘I told you I wasn’t ready yet!’ At least ten times.

Dwalin’s comments about how orcs would not wait for her either was as predictable as it was annoying. She knew that. And the worst thing about this was that she was fully aware that this only vexed her so much because she was all too aware of the fact that she failed at this, spectacularly. And if she didn’t improve somewhat, then she might just get herself killed somewhere down the road and that was something she was really trying to avoid.

‘Well, unless I am very much mistaken, this is still only a training session,’ she growled at her teacher. ‘And there is not an elf or orc in sight here. I’m still learning. I know it is somewhat of a disappointment to you, but I am actually not an incarnation of Superwoman.’ If only. It would make her life that much easier. Fíli and Kíli seemed of a similar mind. The youngest brother had this mischievous twinkle in his eyes that always preceded a comment she wished she had never heard. ‘And you would really do best not to comment on that,’ she added quickly.

Fíli at least had the good sense to wipe the smile off his face, replacing it with a serious expression that was an almost exact copy of his uncle’s most determined expression. Kíli merely tried to contain his mirth, with trying being the operative word. Dwalin however was not even amused, ordering her to get the sword, which she, after one last mocking comment that she could not bite back, did.

‘Bloody dwarf,’ she muttered under her breath as she marched into the bushes, hoping that she would be able to find her blade in one go. ‘What the hell was he thinking?’ But that was one question that did not need answering, because she already knew. Dwalin was trying to prepare her for the real thing and Kate knew very well that him going easy on her would do her no favours in the long run. She had been able to knock out an orc with Thorin’s shield, but she did not even dare to hope she would ever be that lucky again. Beginner’s luck, that was what it was and she did not want to risk her life like that ever again. It had been beyond frightening. When they ran into danger again, she wanted to be able to defend herself. And that meant that Dwalin’s training had become a necessity of life. It did however not mean that she had to like it. Those two things were entirely different.

Well, at least she had some luck. A flash of light on steel caught her eye and it was not even too far away from her. ‘Hallelujah,’ she breathed. At least that would spare her the humiliation of having to ask for help and risk her companions’ laughter.

She bended down to retrieve Excalibur, as the sword was now called, and sheathed it, just to be sure she didn’t drop it on accident. That would be just like her and really, she had just made enough of a fool out of herself today already. One more humiliating experience and she might just die of shame. Well, at least that would save me from training…

She was already about to turn when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. That observation was immediately followed by the realisation that someone was sitting there, someone who quite possibly had absolutely no business being there.

After her lessons the first reaction she should probably have had to such a situation was to point her sword at this intruder’s chest or throat, but the run-instinct was still stronger and she jumped back instead, proving once more that she was more of a runner than a warrior.

She might have made a run straight back to the garden, had she not risked a second glance at the person sitting there. Maybe it was because he had not yet moved that she looked again, because surely, if this had been an orc she would have been dead by now. Like Dwalin said, they weren’t the types to sit back and wait until their opponent was ready.

And this person sitting against the tree was definitely not an orc and he would definitely not approve of the comparison. To her surprise it was the dwarf king that calmly looked up at her from where he sat with his back against a tree.

The shock left her, making room for anger. ‘Could you _not_ do that?’ she exploded. ‘You scared the crap out of me!’ She was almost surprised she hadn’t suffered a heart attack yet.

But what surprised her even more was the lack of response she was getting from him, which was so very unlike Thorin. Normally he would have pulled a Dwalin and pointed out that she should have been more observant, because orcs would not be as considerate as he was, or he would have sent her that amused glance of his that somehow always managed to make her feel like a stupid child.

Right now there was amusement in his eyes. The dwarf just studied her with that calm, unreadable expression that was as good a mask as any physical one. The only indication that not all was well was in his eyes. He almost looked haunted underneath the amused look and that was something she had never seen before. He had looked angry, amused and serious, but never like this. And for some reason this scared her almost more than an army of orcs could have done.

Her eyes drifted from his face to his hands and then the penny dropped. Thorin was still holding the book he had taken from her without her permission. Originally she had intended to give him a good tongue-lashing for that when she saw him again, but the dwarf king’s expression changed her mind. She did not know precisely what had shaken him so badly, but she could always guess. The predicted death of his nephews was not something she had expected to go over well and the advisor did not believe that he would take the news of his impending mental illness any better, especially not when one took into account what had happened to his grandfather. Maybe it had not been that good an idea to let him read the book without any kind of warning beforehand. On the other hand he had taken the book without as much as a by-your-leave, so she could not really be held accountable for the king’s reactions, could she?

‘You read the book,’ she concluded. It was the first thing that was said after the lengthy silence that was dragging on so long that it was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable.

She was rewarded with a curt nod of the head. ‘I did.’ Thorin’s voice was as calm as usual, but there was an icy cold underneath the calm.

Shit! He wasn’t blaming her, was he? That was what this tone of voice usually meant, even if its owner remained perfectly polite. Sometimes it was just so difficult to tell what he meant and what he did not mean. Bloody dwarf.

And she just wanted to get out of here. Thorin was still sitting, making no attempt to get up, so for just this once Kate was looming over him instead of the other way around. It didn’t make her feel as confident as she had once thought it would. Quite the contrary, that look combined with the silence that followed his altogether curt reply made her almost long to run back to the garden to continue training. Now that was something she had never imagined herself thinking.

‘Can you find that sword, Kate?’ Fíli yelled.

That was her way out of here if she wanted to take it. And just a second ago she would have run back without giving it as much as a second thought. But there was a look in Thorin’s eyes that made her feel like both a coward and the worst person alive if she turned away now. There was still ice in his stare, but at the same time he looked lost, forlorn, almost as a stray puppy begging for attention. This thought she would of course never put into the spoken word. Thorin might just bite her head off for that, because she tried to undermine his reputation of a dwarf who was only capable of two emotions: anger and general grumpiness.

‘I’ve got it!’ she called over her shoulder.

‘Come back then!’ Kíli cried.

It was a spur of the moment decision, one that she might later regret because she wasn’t even sure this was what Thorin wanted and she was even less sure it was what she wanted, but Kate supposed she would find soon enough. ‘Sorry, can’t!’ she replied. ‘Your uncle needs to discuss some things with me.’

It was silent for a while and then it was Kíli who yelled back. ‘Okay!’ Kate tried not to guffaw at how easily the archer had copied the words from her world. Ten to one that he had never even heard the word okay before she showed up. It just didn’t sound very like something someone from Middle Earth would say.

The advisor sat herself down opposite the king, folding her legs underneath her. ‘You look like you need to talk about it?’ Because of her uncertainty if this was even what she should be doing, it came out as a question. Normally Thorin would bite people’s heads off when they suggested that he was not as all right as he wanted to appear and Kate had just done a lot more than making it a mere suggestion.

One corner of his mouth curled up, but the smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Have you become a social worker or what was it that you called it?’ he inquired.

Kate snorted, remembering all too well that was the thing she had said back in that cave in front of the goblins’ emergency exit when it had been Thorin trying to do the reassuring. It had not worked of course. ‘Well, if that’s what you need.’ She kept her tone light and shrugged. The last thing she wanted was to suggest that this was something he could not handle on his own. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost, actually.’ This too was met by silence, with the additional disapproving stare she had come to know so well. ‘Listen,’ she tried. ‘I know it must be pretty shocking for you, this book. And no one is actually saying you should go around carrying that burden all on your own. At least try to talk about it with Balin if you think you can’t talk to me. He’d understand.’

It was all too clear that he wasn’t going to discuss this with her. Part of her was relieved, because she had no idea how to handle this situation and Balin would be so much better suited to the job. He had known Thorin for years and would know what was going on in that thick skull of the dwarf opposite her far better than Kate could ever hope to know. Another part of her however was disappointed, feeling rejected even, no matter how stupid that feeling was. They had agreed to be friends and friends trusted one another. She had believed that this was the case with them, especially after last night. He had shared a memory with her that was painful to him and he had trusted her not to abuse the faith he had placed in her by talking about it with the rest of the company. She had, foolishly, believed that last night would mean that there was progress in this strange friendship. Apparently she had been wrong, but she would not share any of that pain with Thorin. She did not even know herself why his unwillingness to talk hurt her like this.

Kate got to her feet again with every intention of leaving Thorin to think about this alone, but she was jerked back before she even had her feet placed under her, causing her to fall rather than to sit back down. ‘Balin would not understand,’ Thorin replied.

Kate frowned. ‘Do you think I do?’ His hand, that still had to let go of her wrist, seemed to imply that he indeed thought so. ‘And can you let go, please? It’s still a little tender from yesterday.’

Thorin did as she asked. He studied the bruising on her arm. ‘Is that of my doing?’

A simple but very true yes was probably not going to do his mood any favours, so she settled for ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.’

Thorin visibly disagreed. ‘I apologise.’

Now there was something she had no idea how to handle. His anger and moodiness she could deal with, but the Thorin she had gotten to know wasn’t the type of person to apologise to anyone, least of all to a nosy advisor who didn’t know when to keep her nose out of other people’s business. ‘Thorin Oakenshield, apologising? Whatever next?’ She tried to deflect it with a joke, hoping she could hide just how awkward this felt to her. And the most annoying thing was that she not even knew why on earth this was so awkward to her. She should be rejoicing that they were moving forward again. ‘So, the book?’ she urged, steering the topic back to things she felt she could actually handle. ‘You’ve read it all?’

He gave her a curt nod in confirmation. ‘Do you believe it to be true?’ There was an unspoken plea for denial to be heard in his words, even though it would be a safe bet to say that the dwarf had not intended for her to hear that.

So she pretended that she hadn’t. ‘Difficult to say,’ she answered truthfully. ‘On one hand I’d say yes, because of everything that has happened so far. I mean, we have not been able to avoid Rivendell, the goblins and Azog, even though we tried our hardest to avoid a run-in with them. But I think that was as much Gandalf’s scheming as our own reluctance to work together.’ She grimaced at the memory of exactly how much that wizard’s meddling had affected the quest so far and by the looks of things Thorin had not forgotten about that either. ‘But on the other hand, he’s going to leave us soon and then we can chart our own path.’ The plural came almost natural to her and the moment after she said it she wondered why. As far as she was aware she was only here in an advising role. It was not her job to make the decisions. That was Thorin’s prerogative and his alone.

But if the dwarf king had noticed her little slip-up, then he did not comment on it. ‘Do you believe that events can be changed, Kate?’

There it was again, the vulnerability that he tried to conceal, but that seeped through in words and eyes all the same. Kate did not think she would soon see that again, not after all the trouble he went to in order to maintain the image of the strong dwarf king. And she did not know why he allowed her to see it – for if he really had not wanted her to know, he would have found a way to hide it from her, of that she was certain – because she didn’t even count as a close friend of his. But this place had something almost magical about it. They were seated away from prying eyes and ears and somehow she felt that this was different from other times when they had talked more or less in private. There were less walls between them and it made her feel both relieved and a little frightened, because she just was not used to this.

So she opted on telling him the truth again. ‘I do think so, yes. I do not think it will be very easy, but I think that it can be done.’ She swallowed, buying herself a few seconds to formulate her next few sentences. ‘The Battle of the Five Armies is going to be difficult to avoid, I admit. I mean, wherever we go, I do think Azog will come after us anywhere.’

‘That is not what concerns me most.’ The tone was still gruff and the words seemed to come from between clenched teeth, but just the fact that he was sharing this with her made some stupid irrational part of her was rejoicing because he did trust her with this.

 _Will you just get a grip, Catherine Andrews?_ common sense snapped at her. _You’re having an important discussion and you’re choosing to be happy?_

And it was right of course. ‘This is about the gold lust, isn’t it?’ She was taking a great risk here, because that was something that concerned Thorin himself and it was something he was obviously fearing a lot. And given his grandfather’s history with that illness, he would probably be completely justified in being so. ‘Sorry, was that too straightforward?’

To her surprise Thorin shook his head at her. ‘No, you are correct.’ He seemed to struggle with himself for a few seconds and then made up his mind. ‘Do you think you can prevent it?’

For a moment she did not really understand what he was asking, but then her jaw dropped. ‘Are you asking me if I think I can stop the gold lust from taking hold of you?’ She truly hoped she did not sound too incredulous just now.

Thorin nodded, holding her gaze with his eyes, effectively preventing her from looking away, as she by now was dying to do. It was huge thing that he was asking of her here. But, as she let her thoughts wander, she realised that Thorin was not the first to ask this of her. Gandalf’s words from on the Great Shelf sounded in her head again. _He needs someone to make him see sense every now and then, someone he cannot ignore too easily. And I’m afraid I needed someone who would not be too much in awe of his reputation to tell him the truth_. That was what he had said. But so far the wizard had only prevented her from doing the job he had brought her here to do in the first place. But what if he only wanted her to change the outcome of the book? What if he wanted her to leave the rest as it was? His explanation would surely suggest so.

The responsibility pressed down on her again, heavier than before. So far she had thought it would merely be her job to advise and it would be up to Thorin whether or not he acted on that knowledge. But this, this was something else entirely. This forced her to actively do something. This forced her to fight for her friends, especially the one that was still looking at her.

She swallowed again. ‘Gandalf thinks that it can be done,’ she replied, truthfully. He would not want her to lie to him. Thorin was just not the kind of person who wanted people to say things they thought he would want to hear from them. He himself could be almost brutally honest and he expected that same courtesy extended to him. ‘And I will try to do what I can.’ There was nothing more she could promise him. ‘That I can promise you.’ She bit her lip. ‘I know that isn’t much, but I’d swear to it if you want me to.’ Where the hell did that come from? Had she not made enough oaths as it was already?

Apparently her words took Thorin as much by surprise as they had done her. ‘Would you?’

Well, this was hardly the time to chicken out. She had already promised, so it would be seen as cowardly to not make good on it. ‘Sure,’ she said, trying to give every appearance of making it look like something that was completely natural. ‘So, there we go again. I, Catherine Sarah Andrews, solemnly swear to do whatever it takes to prevent the gold lust from taking hold of Thorin Oakenshield. ‘I’ll even tell him he’s a hairy idiot, a pig-headed buffoon or a right royal imbecile if need be.’

Her intention succeeded; by the time she had finished the vow the haunted look in the dwarf’s eyes had subsided somewhat. His mouth curled up in what appeared to be indulgent amusement. Normally that made her feel like a little child as well, but right now it was just better than the unadulterated terror that had been there before. He seemed reassured. The expression on his face had remained rather stoical throughout the whole encounter, but his posture wasn’t that rigid anymore and that had to count for something.

‘Come on, I smell dinner,’ she told him, getting to her feet. Correction, she was trying to get to her feet. Thorin’s hand had slotted around her wrist again, of the left arm this time, forcing her back to the ground.

‘We are not yet done,’ he reminded her.

And she did remember that. But she just was not sure if she could handle more oaths today. ‘It was an oath made to a friend,’ she pointed out. ‘I need none in return.’ That was the truth, if only half of it. But that was need-to-know information and Thorin did not have a need to know. And she did not think she could explain the awkwardness of it all when she did not even understand where that was coming from herself. It puzzled her, but she did not have a reasonable explanation for it.

Now she had managed to shock him. ‘Are you certain?’ The way he made it sound was like she had just made a very foolish decision, even if she could not see how that was the case.

Kate nodded. ‘Yes, of course I am. Now, can we go to dinner? I’m starving and I want to bet you haven’t eaten since yesterday. We can’t have the king going weak now, can we?’

This time he did let her get up, giving her a wry look to go with it. ‘You are spending too much time around Dori,’ he commented.

She snorted. ‘And Balin says I am spending too much time around you. There’s just no pleasing you dwarves sometimes, is there?’ It felt good to bring back a somewhat lighter mood, but this did remind her of something. ‘And one piece of advice, better not grab my wrist again like that. Some people here are seriously getting the wrong ideas from that.’

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _What does she mean by that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for today. This was a very difficult chapter to write and I apologise that Thorin’s part seemed to be more of a character study than a story, but I think it was necessary. I really like to hear your thoughts about it.  
> And I think I’ve got good news. Real life is quietening down a little, so I’m trying to resume my normal update scheme as of this week, which means the next update will be Wednesday. I seriously missed writing last week and so I’d like to get back to it as soon as possible.  
> So, next time there are some big decisions made. In the meantime, please comment?


	33. Plans

_This was definitely a new development in our working relationship, even if the rest of the company was clearly eager to see more in it than there actually was. But at least as long as Thorin was within hearing distance they kept their silence and I was grateful for it. Because at this point in time I do not think that we were anything more than friends. Maybe all our companions were just blessed with some gift of foresight or other, but any different kind of relationship was still in the future and that suited me just fine, because I didn’t think I was ready for it._

_But if they made any more comments, then they made them out of our earshot. And I am grateful for that, because something tells me that they weren’t much more respectful than the remarks you lot made about Narvi when he first started courting Duria – and yes, I was actually aware of that and if you had not stopped of your own volition eventually, then your father would have put an end to them. At any rate, I didn’t appreciate the comments any better than you, dear Duria, but apparently that is something one has to put up with when living with dwarves._

_And the gossip mill would be all up and running after our little chat in the woods and I’m afraid that when we retreated to the spot next to the harp, where we had sat ourselves down the previous night, we confirmed a lot of suspicions that I had a hard job correcting in the following days._

_Because, contrary to popular belief, we were actually not being all lovey-dovey in that faraway corner of the house. We were concerned with far more pressing business…_

 

Kate was only too well aware that more than one pair of eyebrows was raised as Thorin and she took off after dinner. She tried to ignore them, even if all this suspicions about things that were not even going on set her teeth on edge. She had already exploded once and she was in a lot of danger of doing it again, but so far Thorin’s very presence had helped in keeping the tongues more or less silent. The advisor however had no doubt that the moment they were out of earshot, the speculating among her new friends would begin anew. Quite honestly she was surprised that none of them had started betting on how long it would take them to get together. Oh well, they could be doing that behind her back for all she knew, but she wasn’t in a hurry to find out. And actually she hoped that Dori would be able to keep the overenthusiastic dwarves in check.

She caught Kíli making a very suggestive waggle of the eyebrows, not unlike he had done in Rivendell and she growled. ‘How can you not notice?’ she complained to the dwarf king, who had laid a map of Mirkwood on the floor between them.

That seemed to confuse him for a moment. ‘What is it I should have noticed?’

Kate was tempted to roll her eyes at him, but refrained from doing so. ‘How everyone seems to be thinking we are an item,’ she clarified. ‘Good grief, man, are you really that unobservant?’

Now his eyebrows raised as well. ‘An item?’ he repeated. It was quite obvious that he had never heard the word before.

And Kate gave herself a mental scolding for not remembering that there were still words and sayings from her own world that were entirely alien to the dwarves. Most of the ones she used more frequently she had explained by now, and sometimes she just forgot about them not knowing, like just now.

‘A couple,’ she translated, feeling very much like a glorified dictionary right here and now. ‘It’s apparently not only elves and goblins who believe there is a lot more going on between us.’ As embarrassing as it was to discuss this with the man she was supposedly in love with, he would have the power to make his company shut their mouths and that was more important than her feelings of awkwardness. ‘And Balin and Kíli are by far the worst of the lot.’ She snorted. ‘I can’t believe that you have not heard the remarks they’re making.’

The expression on Thorin’s face would suggest that he had truly not heard what their companions were saying and doing, but then, most of the comments had been made when he was not within earshot, so Kate supposed she could not really blame him for not knowing. That did not mean however that she was prepared to put up with this nonsense any longer than she had to and she would get Thorin to end it if she could. After all, it was his personal life they were speculating about as well and the dwarf king didn’t seem like the type to let people get away with that.

His face remained stoical, but he nodded. ‘I will see to it,’ he promised.

‘Good,’ she said, directing her attention towards the maps that were spread out on the floor. They could have sat down at the table, but the risk of some of their companions coming over to see it all for themselves was too great and the advisor knew that at least for now Thorin wanted to keep the information to themselves.

But the dwarves weren’t overly interested in what was in the book. They only seemed to care about Kate being able to use that knowledge, but none of them seemed to desire it for themselves, which was a little strange to Kate. The company was content to follow. Had she been home and this had been a company of twenty-first century people, Kate was sure they’d have demanded access to the knowledge, claiming that these were not the Dark Ages anymore and that they had a right to know. That, she pondered, was one aspect of life there that she certainly did not miss.

This was just another culture, with a different set of rules and etiquette. Things were so different here and while confusing and hugely irritating from time to time, to the advisor it felt like a kinder society. The dwarves were in somewhat in a hurry, but the hurry felt like a different kind of hurry than from what she was used to at home. There was less stress here and that was something she wished could be applied to her own world as well.

That didn’t mean that the responsibility she was now obviously carrying was any less, but it was less suffocating now that she was more or less sharing it with the dwarf king. True king and advisor they were now indeed. A small voice in the back of her head whispered that it had always been meant to be this way and that both of them had been wasting valuable time in not acknowledging that fact any earlier. Kate told it to shut up.

‘We do have two options,’ she pointed out to distract herself. ‘There’s the Old Forest Road south of here and the elven path Beorn will advise us to take.’ She had picked up the copy of _The Hobbit_ again, opening it at the page that showed the map of the Wilderland. ‘Or four options,’ she corrected herself. ‘If you consider going round Mirkwood north or south options at all.’

Thorin shook his head. ‘If we go round north our route will take us too close to Mount Gundabad.’

Kate frowned, trying to remember. ‘Quite infested with goblins and orcs it was, right?’

Thorin’s gaze turned positively murderous and Kate wondered if she had said anything wrong. ‘I’m sorry, did I say something?’ Sometimes she could really curse the fact that there were just so many things about dwarves in general and Thorin in particular that she was unaware of. It caused her to say things they regarded as painful and tactless, even though she had not even meant to cause offence.

‘Gundabad was once a dwarven kingdom.’ Thorin’s reply was curt and it didn’t take an expert to establish that this was just another reason for him to hate orcs the way he did. The more stories she heard, the more she came to understand that orcs and dwarves were longstanding enemies and that Thorin’s hatred of them was not all that uncommon. ‘Before the orcs took it.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I really did not mean to reopen old wounds.’ That was the kind of thing a friend said, wasn’t it? But really, Gundabad had been in orcish hands since before Thorin was born, wasn’t it? How long could dwarves possibly keep a grudge?

But she did feel sorry for him. The dwarf race did not seem to have it easy. All she heard was struggle for survival left, right and centre. It was hardly a wonder they were fighting so hard to reclaim their home. Their desire to have a place they could call their own, where they could live as the proud people that they were, not being looked down upon as she knew happened now.

She had seen it for herself when they had stayed in Bree for the night. There were whispers and barely concealed hostility. She had to do her shopping by herself, because most shop owners would not allow dwarves into their shops for fear they would steal something, which admittedly was probably wholly justified where Nori was concerned. But the others were all honest and trustworthy, not that the town’s people acted like it. Clearly it was all right to have dwarves as workers in town, but they were about as welcome as orcs when they were guests in it.

And then there had been the worried glances people had sent in her direction that had set her teeth on edge. The innkeeper had even gone as far as to discreetly suggest that she was welcome to stay in Bree if she needed to escape. The man’s concern had been genuine, she could tell, and at that time she had wanted to go home more than anything, but staying in Bree was hardly going to get her there and so she had politely declined, telling him that she was travelling with the dwarves out of her own free will. That wasn’t quite the truth, but it at least put the man’s nerves to rest, even if he had been staring at her as if he thought she had lost her mind.

The only reply she got this time around was a curt nod, so she went back to the maps again. ‘Going around south is out of the question for the obvious reasons,’ she went on. If there was one thing Kate was adamant about, then it was that she did not intend to go any nearer to Dol Guldur if she could help it. The place had been scary enough in the movie and she had no ambition to see it up close.

Thorin nodded again. ‘We must choose between the Old Forest Road and the elven path,’ he confirmed.

‘And neither sounds very appealing,’ Kate admitted. Mirkwood had been one of the things she dreaded most, maybe even more so than the dragon. It sounded like a dark damp place by all accounts and none of the roads leading through it sounded particularly safe. It would be up to them to choose the lesser evil, but it remained evil still. ‘And I’m not even sure I’m feeling up to choosing either one.’ It might not be what he expected from an advisor, but it was an honest answer at least and Thorin valued honesty a lot, so she had come to learn.

‘Gandalf will want us to take the elven path,’ he predicted, almost implying that he would not want to take that path solely for that reason. And Kate was having that urge as well; to do the opposite of what the wizard wanted if only to be free of his manipulating ways, to not give in to him too much, as she felt they had been doing since the start of this journey.

The wizard had returned just before dinner, but both Thorin and Kate had avoided him a little. Kate could do without the confrontation after the unfortunate pipe incident and Thorin had a dislike of the wizard in general, something Kate could not fault him for even if she wished to, which she didn’t.

‘No doubt,’ she muttered. ‘And that path will lead us to that dangerous enchanted river, close to spiders and far too close to the elven settlement. Look at this,’ she pointed. ‘If the map in the book is to believed, then the path will lead us right past the elves. And I do not think they will let us pass in a hurry, do you?’

Thorin shook his head. ‘But the Old Forest Road is longer and, according to your book, non-existent near the eastern entrance. Orcs do make frequent use of the road leading to the Old Forest Road itself and it will take us further away from Erebor.’

This reminded Kate of brainstorming sessions with her colleagues. It was both familiar and nice to be doing, because she knew that this was something she could actually do, even when they were discussing the crossing of a territory that was by all means dangerous. But she was back in her element and she could hardly help enjoying that. And the fact that the two of them were actually doing this, without the constant arguments and fights, that made her enjoy this even more. Thorin had yet to pull rank on her – something he tended to do whenever he started to find her annoying – and that was a novelty as well. It also felt a bit surreal, too good to be true, she supposed.

She leaned back. ‘So, now we have established that neither is exactly ideal,’ she said. ‘And the Old Forest Road is more than hundred miles longer than the Forest Path. It’s a huge detour we would be making. And it takes us closer to Dol Guldur than the path.’

‘While the Forest Path will take us nearer to elves and spiders and an enchanted river,’ Thorin threw back. ‘And if your book is right, we will encounter elves and spend quite some time in their dungeons. That way we will lose as much time as we would taking the Old Forest Road. I do not believe elves will come there, not that close to Dol Guldur.’

Kate nodded. It did make sense. She bent over the map again. ‘Look, this map says that there are spiders close to the road.’

‘But not as near the road as they are near the path,’ Thorin countered.

Kate could feel what he was trying to say, and perhaps what she herself wanted to say as well. If she had listened right, then both of them wished for the company to take the Men-i-Naugrim. Maybe it was the knowing what awaited them on the Forest Path that urged them to try the unknown, because it could not be worse than what they would already know to be happening.

Yet this was frightening at the same time. So far she had more or less known what was going to happen and that had reassured her, because she had always known that they would be all right in the end. No matter what the danger, there was always the knowledge of the book to reassure her that things would work out and they would survive. She would not have that knowledge if they decided here today that they would chart their own path, something the book didn’t say anything about.

 _Oh, will you stop trying to fool yourself here?_ Common sense had been rather quiet lately, but apparently now was the perfect time to start rearing its ugly head again. _Since when do you have any control over any situation? You’ve never really had that, so please don’t try to be as arrogant as to think that you have._

Kate swallowed, realising that, no matter how much she hated it, it was the truth. She never had any control over anything, simply because she was too weak to change anything and against Gandalf’s meddling she was even more powerless. Now was the first time she could truly do something, truly change something and yet she found she shied away from it for fear of the consequences.

‘There’ll still be the matter of food,’ she remarked thoughtfully. To her it felt like the decision was already made now that they seemed to have moved on to the technicalities, even if the decision had not been spoken out loud. ‘And water. The book states our supplies won’t last the duration of the journey on the Forest Path and that’s a good deal shorter than the other road.’ She tried to remember the book’s contents. ‘Hunting in the forest itself will not do us any good either, if I recall that correctly.’

‘We will hunt before the forest and leave our supplies untouched as long as we can.’ If Thorin’s tone of voice was any indication he had made his choice and he would stand by it. It was the kind of dwarf that he was.

Kate could feel the excitement, could feel the luring call of breaking free from Gandalf’s scheming and make her own way. It was still frightening and she knew there would be more than one occasion that she would regret this choice. On the other hand she also knew that she would regret it as well if she chose the Forest Path over the Old Forest Road. Neither was perfect, both were dangerous. The dangers they would face were just of another nature, but Mirkwood was perilous in and out of itself. There were no safe roads through it. And they had to choose one.

She bit her lip. ‘You’ve chosen, have you not?’

He met her gaze steadily. ‘As have you,’ he countered.

At that she had to smile a little sheepishly. He was right of course. Both of them had made a choice here. Kate could not even really say when she had done that, but now that she checked, she had. It made her stomach tie itself up with the nerves, but there was a happy kind of excitement as well. It felt like she was on the verge of doing something world-shocking – she was not quite sure it was that impressive, although she would not rule out the option of this being Gandalf-shocking – like she was really doing something to change the future, as she had been brought here to do. The longer she stayed here, the closer she became tied to these dwarves and their quest. Oh, who was she fooling really? She already was tied to this quest. The oath had taken care of that quite effectively. _I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed_. There was nothing to be misunderstood about that.

Kate bit her lip again. ‘We would need to plan this very carefully,’ she said. ‘If we want to pull this off successfully, we need to know what we’re doing.’

This earned her a curt nod of the head. It almost surprised her that he not yet told her that she was rather stating the obvious. Maybe that oath exchange had changed more in their working relationship than she had believed possible. She found she rather liked the whole idea. Come to think of it, had he even snapped at her since then? She searched her memory and found that he had indeed not. Progress indeed.

But she had to be careful how to act. Maybe friendships between men and women did not really happen all that much around here. If that was the case, then it would explain why the dwarves were all too quick to spot a relationship that wasn’t even there. She had not yet forgotten that dreaded drawing of Ori’s and she really could do without all her companions thinking she was romantically involved with Thorin, especially when there was nothing more than friendship between them.

And she had found that she liked it, the friendship. She did not think the absence of shouting would last forever, but it was a different kind of shouting now. There was no hatred in it anymore.

‘We do need to tell Gandalf,’ she suddenly remembered, grimacing. If the wizard was still hell-bent on following the book, then it was almost sure that he was not going to like what they had decided here tonight. And dislike was most likely the understatement of the century.

One corner of Thorin’s mouth curled up. ‘We do,’ he agreed.

Kate suddenly found herself dreading that particular conversation. Lately all her fights seemed to be with the company wizard and not with the dwarf king she had clashed so often with over the last months. And there was no doubt that Gandalf would not approve of what they were planning to do. The company would follow without question – Kate suspected they would follow Thorin to the mouth of hell if need be – but Gandalf would be another matter entirely.

She stole a glance at Gandalf, who was seated at the table, doing some mysterious wizard business. ‘We can always wait till morning,’ she proposed. ‘If he were to start shouting now, he would wake everyone within a one mile radius.’

Thorin was no fool. She was quite sure he knew exactly what she was doing, but where it would have annoyed him before, he was only amused now. ‘Or he will inform us that the road is not fit for traveling,’ he commented. ‘Maybe we will even find it blocked.’

Kate chuckled. ‘Blocked as in like the safe pass road was blocked, you mean? Tell you what, I think this time I do like to go and see it for myself.’ Was she truly exchanging witticisms with Thorin Oakenshield here? Something must be seriously wrong with her brain if that was the case. And since when was Thorin one to joke? So far she had never seen much of that side to him, but it was clearly there. And she liked it. It made her feel accepted. And that may be something she had been trying to avoid for the past few months, but it was also something she craved. After all, if she was not going to go home anytime soon, what harm could it do to be one of the group, if only for a little while?

 

***

 

Thorin did not really remember falling asleep, but when he was dragged back to consciousness by the booming voice of Beorn, he found himself with his head on what appeared to be some map or other. He had a faint recollection of walking back to his bedroll with the maps and Kate’s book to figure out some last details, but he must have dozed off while he was busy. That was a weakness that was not very like him. Thorin was used to be able to do whatever he wished without being hindered by fatigue, but if he was really honest he would have to admit that reading the book had taken a toll on his energy. Kate’s promise about trying to guard his mental health had somewhat reassured him, but it kept nagging at the back of his mind, demanding that he started to worry about it all over again, even when it would be no use at all.

The rest of the company had clearly not been quite ready to wake just yet if the grumpy faces now emerging from above the blankets were anything to go by. Only Óin seemed to have slept through it, or he pretended to. When it came to things he wanted to hear, he seemed to be very capable of hearing them, a fact that had not escaped the king’s notice.

‘It’s only seven in the morning,’ a voice close by moaned.

Thorin looked in the direction of the source of the noise and found himself looking at a very sleepy advisor, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her hair was once again sticking out in every direction. It seemed to be a part of her as much as that sharp tongue that Thorin so often had been on the receiving end of.

‘Soon we’ll be on the road again,’ he reminded her sternly. ‘You’ll have to wake earlier than that when that time arrives. You better get used to it.’

Her eyes were narrowed to prevent the light from flooding in, but he recognised the trademark glare when he saw it. ‘You really are a little ray of sunshine, are you not?’ For some reason it felt reassuring that some things had not changed. He snorted. It would just not be like Kate to go from snappy to this kind and understanding friend, even if he was starting to suspect that she truly had a more caring side to her as well. It just did not show that much.

He did not take the trouble to react to that, choosing instead to get up and walk over to the table for breakfast. Judging by the mumbling he heard from coming behind him he suspected the advisor was following. A quick look over his shoulder taught him he was right in that assumption. She was trying to sort her hair out somewhat, to absolutely no avail.

‘I’ll take care of that,’ Dori promised when he saw her struggling with the unruly locks.

He was rewarded with a wary look for his troubles. ‘No offence, Dori, but I don’t think I am quite ready for your experimenting with my hair. I appreciate the offer, but no, thanks.’

Thorin hid his smirk by taking a gulp of water. Not that he could blame the advisor for being a bit wary when it came to letting her oldest brother anywhere near her hair. If Ori’s hair was anything to go by, then he understood why she politely refused, because for Kate this was being polite.

‘I can help,’ Kíli spoke up, far too enthusiastic for this early in the morning.

Kate still looked doubtful. ‘What is this with you lot and wanting to play with my hair?’ Oh yes, there was definitely wariness.

‘We’re friends now, are we not?’ Thorin’s youngest nephew was just looking a little too innocent. ‘You let Thorin do it, didn’t you?’

The wariness was written all over Kate’s face now, but Thorin did not quite understand why. Kíli was speaking the truth and nothing wrong with that. But the advisor seemed to have read something into it that the dwarf king had apparently missed out on. ‘Kíli…’ Her voice was low and warning.

‘It’s the truth,’ said dwarf defended himself, but this time there was a grin that Thorin did not entirely trust. It made him feel like he was missing the point of something he should have been aware of and that was not a feeling he liked at all. He was used to being on top of things and not knowing or being kept in the dark had the tendency to make him rather irritable.

‘It’s your pipe,’ Kate reminded him, causing some of the others to laugh. ‘Honestly guys, knock it off. I’ve heard just one comment too many lately.’

That triggered a memory of the night before. _It’s apparently not only elves and goblins who believe there is a lot more going on between us. And Balin and Kíli are by far the worst of the lot._ He recalled that Kate said something like that. And it was followed by the memory from the previous afternoon. _Better not grab my wrist again like that. Some people here are seriously getting the wrong ideas from that_.

And then he realised what was going on here. ‘Enough, Kíli,’ he told the archer as sternly as he could manage. If Kate was right and this was what he now feared it to be, then it had gone on for far too long already. But he would not defend his actions. That was almost the same thing as confirming what his men were apparently thinking. No, pulling rank would be the best solution here. And that he did.

His sister-son at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed, confirming Thorin’s suspicions. Mahal, they really believed that he had fallen for a human woman. The absurdity of it made him snort dismissively. They were not just encouraging it, as he had believed Balin to be doing, this was far more than that. They believed it had already happened. No, absurd would not even begin to cover it and Kat’s face told them all she shared Thorin’s opinion. What a strange coincidence that the one who was supposedly his lover was the only one to agree with him on this account.

He had no patience for this foolery. He had a quest to lead and it would by no means be easy. He would stand by his decision to take the Old Forest Road, the Men-i-Naugrim, instead of the elven path they would take according to Kate’s book. That book still frightened him, but he had sworn to use it, and that he would. And if using it meant that he would avoid spiders, elves and an enchanted river that took people’s memory, then he would do that.

For him it was not only the safer option, it was also a way to break free from Gandalf’s endless meddling in affairs that did not concern him. It was not only the option that seemed best to him, but he felt like he had to prove that he was not bound to this book. He could and would change things if only he could. Taking a different route was his way to show that he was not doomed to do everything that this book wanted him to do and he suspected that Kate felt like that as well.

Beorn had been treating them to the story of what he had found out about the orcs’ behaviour while he had been thinking, but the mention of the Defiler’s name snapped him back into the here and now.

‘He survived?’ The question came out in a growl.

Beorn’s eyes studied him and Thorin had the uncomfortable feeling the skin-changer could see right through him, something that rather unnerved him. ‘That he did, Thorin, son of Thráin,’ he boomed, but the dwarf suspected that was more out of habit. The man did not seem like one capable of whispers. ‘Limping he was, though.’

Kate was looking incredibly smug all of a sudden. The dwarf had a faint recollection of a bleeding wound on Azog’s leg after he had attacked the advisor. Perhaps she had remembered more of Dwalin’s lessons than he had believed possible.

‘I am glad of that at least,’ he replied. ‘What of his plans?’ This may be a little less polite than he had intended, but the very thought of Azog still out there, still hunting him, it caused shivers down his spine. And he’d rather die than show any of his unease to his companions. They expected him to remain strong and unwavering. To falter now would destroy their confidence in him and that was something he could not allow to happen.

‘A very determined fellow he is, the Defiler.’ It was good to hear the snarl with which that had been spoken. ‘This side of the mountains may soon be crawling with his minions, for he does not take defeat well. You will be hunted, Thorin Oakenshield.’

The dwarf forced himself to meet the bear-man’s eyes. ‘I have been hunted all this journey. I will not run away now and abandon my quest and my people.’ And he had known the risk he took as he set out on this quest.

But Azog’s continued existence did unnerve him. That had not been the case in the book, but it had been in the other version of the tale the advisor had mentioned several times. But when he had asked her about that last night, she had said that this version ended after their encounter with the eagles. They were going blind on this and that unnerved him even more, because he was fully aware that Azog would not rest before he had ended the line of Durin. And in the book it were Fíli, Kíli and Thorin himself that died, the last male descendants of Thrór. He didn’t know for sure if Kate had realised this, but Thorin had and it was frightening, not that he would admit this to anyone. It was his burden to bear, his alone.

Beorn was looking almost impressed, favouring him with a respectful nod of the head. ‘You will have all the help that I can offer, Thorin, son of Thráin. Many orcs and goblins have been slain by you and your company. Yes, I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this.’ His face split in what his enemies no doubt would call a terrifying grin. ‘Killed the Great Goblin, crippled the Defiler…’ The huge man chuckled. ‘Oh, I shall like dwarves better than I did before.’

That was a relief, but one he would not admit out loud. Thorin was convinced that the skin-changer only liked them better because of their shared hatred of orcs, goblins and wargs. All he had heard about this man told Thorin that there were very few things Beorn hated as much as those and that was something the dwarf king could relate to.

‘We will accept any help you are willing to offer graciously,’ he told him. He hated the need to humiliate himself like that, but if they were to cross Mirkwood successfully, then they needed all the help they could get. Pride would gain them nothing, but lose them everything. And with the success of the quest on the line, that was not a risk he was prepared to take. Once Erebor was theirs again, then he could afford to be proud, not before. ‘And we will burden you with our presence no longer than tomorrow,’ he added. ‘We must away soon if we wish to reach the Mountain before Durin’s Day.’ He was convinced they could make it in time, even with the detour, especially if they did not linger in Esgaroth for the full two weeks the book claimed. They would need to press on, but they could do it.

Gandalf looked at him. ‘Now, I am sure that if we leave for the north tomorrow…’ he began.

‘But we won’t go north,’ the advisor spoke up loudly, effectively silencing all other conversation around the table. Thorin knew that tone. She was about to confront the wizard, and she was bracing herself for the worst. Thorin could not blame her for doing that. This decision was bound to vex the grey wizard enormously and their previous fights had been spectacular. ‘We’ll be taking the Old Forest Road.’ Her eyes almost dared the wizard to contradict her.

‘Three pieces of gold says that the wizard loses the argument,’ Nori whispered at Glóin who was sitting next to him. Thorin could only hear it because he was seated close to them. Fortunately the advisor was on the other end of the table. Something told him she would not appreciate this development.

Glóin laughed. ‘Better hand them over already, lad. The woman doesn’t stand a chance against him.’

But Thorin disagreed. If he had been a betting kind of dwarf, he’d have gone with Nori. Because this was a battle fought with words and Thorin had every intention to help her win it. They had made this decision together, so he would not leave her to deal with the consequences on her own.

‘Dear girl,’ Gandalf began.

‘No use arguing the point,’ she told him. ‘We are aware of the dangers.’ The advisor had her arms wrapped around her torso, giving every appearance of not going to back down anytime soon. If he knew her at all, then the more Gandalf protested, the more stubborn Kate would be about it.

And Thorin decided to step in. ‘The elven path will have its own dangers,’ he said, fixing Gandalf with his sternest stare. ‘The Men-i-Naugrim will be a longer road, but it will not take us near giant spiders, past elven settlements or to rivers that take one’s memories when one comes into contact with it.’

‘Orcs do make frequent use of the way leading to the Old Forest Road,’ Beorn spoke up. ‘You choose a dangerous path for yourself, Thorin Oakenshield.’

He knew that. But no matter which way he turned, he would never be out of danger. It would follow him wherever he went, regardless of which road he took. Azog would hunt him, bound by the oath he had taken to wipe out Thrór’s line. He would never be safe as long as that monster lived. Either Azog or Thorin had to die before this feud would come to an end, he knew that. He also knew that this could not hold him back from the quest.

‘Orcs we can fight,’ he replied. ‘Enchantments of forgetfulness we cannot.’ The reasoning was simple and it was even better that there would be no arguing it.

Gandalf’s eyebrows had knitted together as he frowned at both king and advisor, which was quite a feat since they were on other ends of the table. Too late Thorin remembered that the wizard had not yet been told that Kate had lent her book to Thorin, and by the looks of things, Gandalf was not in any way pleased to learn of it.

He rounded on Kate. ‘What have you done?’ he demanded.

‘What I thought necessary,’ she countered. ‘And honestly, stop playing dumb. It really doesn’t suit you. You knew I had given the book to Thorin. I as good as told you on the Great Shelf.’

Thorin could have sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees when Gandalf spoke again. ‘You were meant to be advising,’ he pointed out. The mention of _dear girl_ was missing, even if the tone was still perfectly polite.

‘And so I am,’ Kate countered. ‘I do not know what your game is, Gandalf, but I am tired of playing it.’ And she sounded it. There was anger there, plain for all to see, but underneath it was a weariness Thorin himself had felt on numerous occasions when his duties were weighing too heavily on him. A few days ago he could not have seen how Kate could feel the same thing, but now he could. And it did not suit her.

‘You have no idea of what you may have unleashed, Miss Andrews!’ Gandalf too was both angry and weary, his tone almost an exact copy of Kate’s.

The advisor met his eyes. ‘I have attempted to change something, like you wanted me to!’ she shot back. ‘And I think there actually was something about that in my contract, so don’t you start complaining now!’ She shoved her chair back with so much force that it toppled over and crashed to the ground. ‘Start making up your bloody mind, will you?’ She stormed out without another word.

This had her brothers on their feet, all three of them. Their attitude was admirable, but the last thing they could use here was a fight over this. ‘Enough!’ he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table for good measure, making the cups on it rattle with the force of it. ‘We will take the southern route and that’s the last of it. Dori, Nori, Ori, sit _down_!’ The command ended in a snarl.

His patience was wearing thin and he was trying to tell himself that Kate’s reaction had nothing to do with it. But it had and he knew he was only fooling himself. It was the nature of friendship, after all. When a friend was, for whatever reason, upset, then it affected their friends as well. This just had the minor complication that he had no idea how to comfort her. Male friends were easy. All it usually took was some hours of his time and a few ales and then he could let them spat their problems. And admittedly, after a few ales, they could laugh about it and all was well again.

If only things were as simple as that where women were concerned. He had tried it, when Dís was upset, once, long ago. He had gotten insult and the mug of ale flown in his face for the trouble, so that was clearly not the way to go about it. Fortunately his sister had married not long after so that he could leave that business to her husband.

Unfortunately he had no such luck here, since the advisor wasn’t married and by all accounts, no matter what his men said and thought, wasn’t likely to do so in the foreseeable future. Now of course he could let her brothers take care of the task, but they were still far too angry to calm themselves, never mind their sister. Balin would be willing to go, but his calm was more likely to enrage Kate than appease her. No, it would appear that the job was Thorin’s, no matter how much he dreaded it.

So he sent the Ri brothers to help with clearing up the breakfast table, dismissed the others do whatever they wanted and then went out to find the advisor. That turned out to be a rather easy job. It had rained last night, so the ground was soft, and Kate had left footprints leading directly to the spot where he had sat the previous day and where the advisor had found him. This time the roles seemed to have been reversed.

The woman was sitting on the ground, eyes swollen and red. She looked up when she saw him and quickly tried to remove any evidence of her crying, for which Thorin was grateful. He had no idea what to do with upset females, never mind crying ones. ‘Yes, I know!’ she said, raising a hand, forestalling anything he might have said. ‘I’m acting like a child. So do me a favour and get lost. I’ll be back in a minute.’

He remembered this behaviour from the Misty Mountains, when she had lashed out when she was hurt as well. And his attempts to get her back to her normal behaviour had not worked at all. He didn’t get his hopes up that he could do it now, but he had to do something. ‘Gandalf has given in,’ he informed her, hoping that this was the best way to cheer her up. And she didn’t need to know that he had more ordered Gandalf than that the wizard had backed off of his own volition. ‘He will not bother you any longer.’

She looked up and glared at him. ‘Trying to be a social worker again?’ she demanded.

He fixed her with a stern glare. ‘No.’

She snorted. ‘And thank goodness for that. You’re making a mess of it.’ She sent him a wry grin. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.’ The teasing tone had disappeared as soon as it had come. ‘It’s just… Sometimes it feels like the success of this mission rests on my shoulders, what with me knowing the book. And the others all seem to think that I can change everything. But what if I can’t? What if we made the wrong choice by taking the southern road? And then it’ll be all my fault and I don’t know how to handle that. And sometimes it just feels that it doesn’t matter what I do or which way I turn. Whatever I do it never seems to please anyone entirely.’

The words came spilling out of her mouth so fast he almost couldn’t make them out. And there were so many emotions he would rather run in the opposite direction than to stay here and try to comfort her, for all that his comforting might do. But she had been there when he had doubted everything and everyone, but mostly himself. Kate had even gone as far as to swear another oath to reassure him. That grounded him in place. He owed her for this. This just left the minor problem of still not knowing how to handle this situation to deal with.

‘You will not fail,’ he told her. ‘We will see this done.’

That got him her undivided attention. She brushed the last tears away and got to her feet, arching an eyebrow at him. ‘We?’

The word had escaped his mouth without him even realising, but he’d said it already, so he nodded. ‘Aye.’

There was the barest hint of a smile on her face. ‘I don’t know why, but I quite like the sound of that.’

As did he. And he could not quite understand why he felt like that.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _You know, I quite liked Gandalf the way he was portrayed in the books and movies and I can still see those reasons why I like the character in the real Gandalf. I only wished he would not keep as many secrets as he does. If only I could know why he acts as he does! I think I would like him better then._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the change I made. I'm a bit nervous about it, so I'd love to hear what you think. Please comment?


	34. Assumptions

_The day passed in a buzz of activity. I think it would be fair to say that we were more active than Beorn’s bee colonies in high summer. Beorn himself was not too charmed by our plans and I could partially understand that. The Men-i-Naugrim was a dangerous road, what with orcs making frequent use of it and Azog was still hunting us. But I agreed with Thorin here: we would be hunted no matter which way we turned. Who was to say that the Defiler would not have followed us on the elven path? He would follow us anywhere, and he hadn’t struck me as the type to let a dark forest, giant spiders and a bunch of elves keep him from his revenge._

_So, with that ruled out as an argument, the southern route seemed safer to both Thorin and me. Beorn was none too pleased with it, but he understood our reasoning and kept his word to help us as much as he could. I suspected he only did so because our company had seriously harmed the goblins and our host hated goblins and orcs more than any other race in Middle Earth._

_In truth I felt like a leader that day. I was used to bossing my colleagues and fellow students about when I was trying to get some major project done in time, since the others never seemed to care much for deadlines at all. In the company I had not been able – or willing – to do that, but Thorin charged me with making sure everything was ready before the morning, because that was when we would depart. He wanted to be back on the road again and I understood his restlessness. The longer we lingered here, the bigger the chance that Azog would find us and only heaven knew what would become of us then._

_And so I spent most of my day bullying Bofur and Dori into mending clothes that had been torn, helping Beorn in the kitchen to get as much food prepared as we would be able to carry and studying maps with Thorin, Beorn and Gandalf. The latter was unusually quiet, making me suspect that Thorin’s claim that he would make the wizard shut up was not as big a lie as I had believed it to be._

_And it helped to keep busy. I hardly had a moment to myself, hardly a moment to think and at the time I liked that. It has been my way of keeping calm ever since. Mahal knows it helped me to keep calm every time I knew Thorin – or one of you lot – had once again charged headfirst into some dangerous situation or other._

_At any rate, the day flew by. I think I just fell asleep before I was even lying on my bedroll, but when morning came, it still came far too soon already…_

 

The nerves settled in Kate’s stomach comfortably the very moment she opened her eyes. Sleep had allowed her several hours of oblivion, but the waking of noisy dwarves dragged her back to consciousness before the sun had even crept over the horizon. Today would be the day everything changed. Well, technically that would have been yesterday, but up to now they had always the chance to change their mind and turn north instead of south.

She pretended to be asleep for a little longer to get the mess that her mind was sorted out. She was not even sure why she had broken down like that yesterday morning. Maybe it was the weight of responsibility. It felt suffocating. She had been aware of it before now, when she had revealed her knowledge of the book to everyone within shouting distance after escaping Goblin-town. But it was only now that she truly started to use it, truly got the chance to use it, that it became a burden. While this was what she had been fighting for, now that the moment was there, she found it terrifying up to a point that she wanted to hide underneath the blankets and never resurface in order not to face the consequences of the choices she had made.

But that would be the coward’s way out. And she was not a coward. In a few minutes she would get up, pack up her belongings and move out with the rest of them. And she was not truly alone in this, not after that pact she had made with Thorin, which still felt surreal to her. Kate had gotten to know the dwarf king as a grumpy kind of individual, who did not seem to have the words kindness, patience and social behaviour in his vocabulary. Yet he was the only one in this company who knew the full tale and, strangely enough, the only one who knew some of her deepest fears.

Now that was puzzling. What on earth had ever possessed her to be so open with him? It was not like he even remotely cared for what was haunting her mind, was it? Maybe he did care more than before, now that they were officially friends. They were even starting to behave like they were indeed friends, which was a novelty in and out of itself. But the advisor still didn’t feel comfortable baring her soul to the king. He had enough on his plate without her concerns added to the load and yesterday had proven once more that he had actually no idea how to deal with this.

So what she missed most was someone to talk to, to really talk to, but she did not feel she could burden her brothers or new friends with her troubles. Thorin had been right not wanting them to panic because of the things that were still ahead, so they were ruled out. The same was true for Gandalf. He may know the book and the movie, but Kate and he did not like one another very much right now, so he would probably be the last person she would even want to talk to. And he would be leaving their company soon enough anyway. He had announced that at dinner last night. He would accompany them to Mirkwood, but then his own road would lead him further south, towards Dol Guldur.

That was something he of course had not said to them, but Kate was no fool. He would join the White Council to drive Sauron out of that ancient fortress, which hopefully would mean that Mr Necromancer had more important things to do than bothering a company of dwarves that journeyed over the Men-i-Naugrim. She had explained that to Thorin, who, oh wonder, had agreed with her. Miracles obviously never ceased. Who knows, they might even make it out of Mirkwood more or less unscathed.

A hand shook her shoulder gently. ‘Kate, are you awake?’ That was Dori.

Kate yawned and cracked an eye open. ‘I am now. What time is it?’

‘Not yet dawn,’ her oldest brother told her. ‘Come on, Thorin wants to leave within the hour.’

‘No doubt,’ she muttered.  She shed the blanket and stood up, noticing that all her companions were already up and nearly ready to leave. Dori must have let her sleep as long as he could to give her as long as he could to rest. He truly cared for his family and Kate felt touched. ‘Thanks for letting me sleep, Dori.’

He gave a her a curt nod and a warm smile. A quick glance towards Ori’s bedroll taught her that her brother had gotten the same treatment. It made her smile a little. It was a kindness Jacko would show her every now and then as well. It reminded her of home and that was a welcome memory.

Beorn had set out breakfast for them and Kate found she had quite an appetite. And this was the last time she’d have some decent meal, she knew. Thorin had decreed that they would go on rations as soon as they were on the road again. The advisor had spent most of the previous day trying to stuff as much supplies in packs as she could, effectively pillaging Beorn’s pantry, at his insistence, so she did not feel too guilty over it. she only hoped it would be enough to last throughout the journey. When they came out of Mirkwood on the other side, they could hunt and make sure they would not starve that way. And they would follow the River Running northwards from that point, so they could fish there as well. No, it would be Mirkwood that was going to be tough.

‘I’m going to miss this,’ Bombur said wistfully as he eyed his full plate.

‘You and me both,’ Kate pointed out. ‘Along with the rest of the company. But it’s going to be worth it, don’t you think? After all, we are going to take back the Mountain and give that dragon a good kick in the behind.’ At least that was one thing the book told her that Kate found she wanted to believe very much. And a bit of optimism had never been known to hurt anyone.

‘You truly think so, lass?’ Bombur didn’t seem all too enthusiastic about the prospect and this puzzled the advisor a little.

‘Why, yes,’ she said, trying to keep up the optimistic attitude. ‘You don’t?’ The best way to avoid having to give an answer was often to deflect the question, shoot it back at the one who had asked it first.

‘I am not sure,’ came the soft answer and Kate could not escape the notion that he did not want the others to be aware of his doubts.

And she could understand that, even if it did make her wonder. ‘Why did you join up then?’

A friendly smile now graced his features. ‘Ah, well, someone’s got to look after them,’ he replied, his eyes searching out his brother and cousin. The first was having a conversation with the company burglar while the latter was eating… were that flowers? Well, at least that drove the message home why at least Bifur would need some supervision. ‘And if this succeeds, we’ll have a home again. And we’ll be rich.’

That seemed an important part of the quest for everyone involved. Almost every dwarf had so far been very enthusiastic about the prospect of getting riches beyond imagining. Strangely enough it was Thorin she had heard talking about that part of the quest the least. To think that he of all people should be the one to fall victim to the gold sickness was one of the strangest notions Kate had heard in a very long time. Yet he seemed to fear it more than anything else. Why that was she would probably never know. The dwarf king was as willing to share his secrets as a recalcitrant oyster was to share its pearl.

‘Well, that’s… great,’ she replied a bit hesitantly. ‘So, it’ll be worth it, then? Even if we have to make do with rations for a while?’

Bombur didn’t get the chance to respond to that, because Ori had gotten himself involved in the discussion. He was seated next to Kate and had therefore heard the conversation. ‘You’ll be rich too,’ he told his adoptive sister. ‘It says in your contract that you are entitled to a share of the treasure as well.’ Leave it to Ori to figure something like that out. Honestly, she should not have been surprised that it was her brother the scribe who had discovered that. Knowing him he could probably quote her the entire thing word for word.

She turned to him. ‘And what on earth am I supposed to do with treasure?’ she questioned. ‘I can hardly take it back with me now, can I?’ She could already picture people’s faces as she came marching in with more gold and jewels than she could carry. And then she would have to explain where she got it from, preferably with an explanation that would not get her shipped off to the nearest mental asylum or prison for suspected theft?

‘Why not?’ Nori chimed in. He clearly did not understand why that would in any way be problematic for her.

Kate was tempted to roll her eyes. ‘Well, what would you do if someone you knew well disappeared for an extended period of time and then showed up with treasure he refused to give any explanation for?’ she demanded.

‘Why would you not give an explanation?’ Now it was Kíli’s turn to look puzzled and to Kate’s absolute horror she realised that all her companions had fallen silent to follow her conversation. _Bugger these dwarves_.

‘Well, it isn’t normal for someone of my world to spend time in other worlds. That only happens in books and you lot are, to my world, storybook characters,’ she explained, a little annoyed that they had not worked out that part for themselves. ‘People would think that I had lost my mind and then I’d be locked away, either because they think I’m insane or because they believe I stole the treasure from somewhere.’

Now that seemed to make sense to some of them. Kate could see nodding and hear the understanding ‘hm’ from around the table.

‘Glad we worked that out,’ she muttered, taking a piece of bread from the table. ‘Pass me the honey, will you, Fíli?’

Fíli did as she asked, but was clearly not ready to leave the subject alone, to Kate’s great annoyance. ‘So, what will you get out of the quest then?’ he wondered, giving her an inquisitive look.

That gave her pause, because honestly, she had not spared that a moment’s thought until now. Her main focus had been to come out of this crazy adventure alive and with all her limbs still in their proper places. The focus had been on getting home, not on the reward she would get. That had not even been on her mind at all, not when there were so many other things to concern herself with. And really, she would stand by that. The treasure had not been important before now and taken into account that she could not take it with her anyway greatly reduced its lure.

In the end she shrugged. ‘I get to go back home again. I suppose that will be my reward.’ And in truth that was all the reward she wanted. Go back home, figure something out to tell her family and the police and find a new job, because it would be safe to assume that she had lost the one she had before she had been spirited away. And really, there wasn’t anything else that she wanted.

Some of the dwarves seemed horrified. ‘That’s not fair!’ Kíli’s voice was filled with righteous indignity. ‘You’re facing the same dangers we do. We have to reward you in some way!’

‘Well, just leave it, will you?’ The annoyance won out. Shouldn’t they be happy that they got more of the treasure for themselves? Wasn’t that the dwarvish way to react to situations like these? Sometimes she would swear she had them all worked out, but then they did or said something and she was left just as confused as before. Bugger these dwarves. ‘We need to claim that Mountain and treasure first, don’t you think, before we start arguing about what to do with it? Let’s concentrate on that first, shall we?’

It was a good point to end the meal and Thorin used it as one. He got up from his chair and fixed the company with a stern stare. ‘We’ll move out within half an hour. Everyone who is not ready by then will be left behind and can catch us up.’

The king left the table and Kate took that as her cue to leave as well, before her companions could get back to arguing with her. She did not feel like worrying about this and given the fact that she was supposed to keep Thorin from succumbing to the gold lust, it would probably be strange if she herself would crave the wealth of the Mountain. But said king didn’t really seem like the most likely candidate for a case of gold sickness, so maybe she should not be too eager to judge.

She grabbed her belongings and slipped outside while the others were still gathering their possessions. Beorn had provided them with ponies to ride until Mirkwood. After that they would have to make do on foot. The prospect of walking was not truly tempting, but taking ponies into the woods would not do them any good either. They would need to feed them on something and their supplies were all needed for themselves. It did make sense. It did not mean she liked the walking idea any better.

But at least they would not need to walk to Mirkwood and she counted her blessings. And it was another blessing that her companions at least had temporarily made her forget about her fear of making the wrong decision. Anger and annoyance always worked quite well in banning out fear and uncertainty and Kate was grateful for it. But now, as she strapped her luggage to the back of a patient pony they returned full force. Her mind, that had been only too quick to point out the advantages of this route two days ago, seemed now determined to remind her of everything that might just turn out not so well. The food supplies were one of the main concerns. According to the book they had not even lasted long enough on the shorter route, so how could they be sufficient for the longer way they were about to take? And she would readily admit, if only to herself, that the fact that there were indeed orcs on the Men-i-Naugrim did scare her. She was not good at swinging a sword around. But, like Thorin had said, orcs at least they could fight, enchanted rivers they could not. And this meant that she chose the orcs over the river. She may be useless with a sword, but at least a sword would be some use against an orc. It made her feel not entirely powerless. And surely that had to count for something.

‘What are you doing?’ a grumpy voice suddenly asked.

She had not heard anyone coming and the urge to jump was great, but fortunately her brain reminded her just in time that it was only Thorin. So she kept on strapping the blanket to the pony. ‘Back to the stupid questions, are we?’ she inquired. ‘I’d have said it was obvious, but clearly not.’ What on earth did he mean? She wasn’t stupid. She could tell this wasn’t about her making sure the pony was ready to go at the time Thorin wanted her to. This was about something else, something she apparently had done, but she could not come up with one thing that could justify such a reaction.

‘Kate…’ She knew that warning tone, only when it was directed at her it had mostly been her surname that was being spoken in such a manner. Well, maybe their friendship did have its uses then.

She turned around, frustrated both by Thorin and the blanket that refused to remain in place for some reason. ‘What do you want, Thorin?’ If the question came out a little snappy then that was purely coincidental. It had nothing to do with her frustration and fears whatsoever. Or that’s what Kate told herself.

‘The treasure,’ he replied, taking over her task of securing the blanket and, to her annoyance, doing a much better and quicker job of it. _Bloody show-off_. ‘Do you truly not take an interest?’

That was what was bothering him? Of all things to worry about? ‘Should I?’ she countered. ‘Don’t we all have far more important things on our mind than the bloody treasure right now?’

It earned her an arched eyebrow and an inquisitive stare that she found most unnerving. ‘You truly do not wish for it?’

‘Should I?’ she repeated. Maybe it was strange. Most people clearly wanted nothing more than to be rich, to have wealth beyond imagining. It would be a logical question to be asking, the advisor supposed. But it was still quite early in the morning, she was irritated and short-tempered and being reasonable wasn’t that high on her list of priorities yet.

‘It would be a natural reaction,’ Thorin replied, going ahead and strapping her backpack to the pony as well, even though she had not asked for it.

‘It would be a natural reaction for a dwarf,’ Kate corrected. And possibly for human beings as well, but dwarves craved it more than any other race if her knowledge was correct. And it managed to deflect the question well enough. ‘And I haven’t heard you about the treasure all that much, so I don’t think you’re too obsessed with it either, not like Nori for example.’ Maybe that was not the best example she could have come up with, since her thieving brother was practically obsessed with everything that did not belong to him, but it would support the point she was making.

‘You would go on this quest expecting no reward in the end?’ Thorin did not react to the last part of her speech, but it was quite possible that it had somehow vexed him. He did not seem too pleased with her. That look had never boded well before.

And it triggered her own anger. ‘Well, I am already on this quest, just in case you’d forgotten. And what is your sodding point anyway? I’m not even sure why you’re mad at me now.’ Maybe that was exaggerated, but Thorin wasn’t exactly acting cheerful either, not that she had ever seen him truly cheerful to begin with.

‘You will have some reward at the end of this quest,’ the dwarf king vowed. ‘I will not have it said that a member of my company has gotten nothing for her troubles.’

If that had been meant to pacify her, he failed spectacularly. ‘This is about your _pride_?’ Her voice rose in anger. It was quite possible that everyone would be able to hear them loud and clear, but for just this once Kate could not bring herself to care. ‘Well, in that case you can just stick it up your…’

Thorin did not give her the chance to finished. The backpack had not been yet strapped to the pony properly, but he seemed to have forgotten about that, letting go of the bag – that instantly crashed to the ground – in favour of grabbing Kate’s arms. If she was a child he’d probably have shaken her to land the message home. ‘This is about you, not my pride, Miss Andrews.’

‘What the…?’ she began, but he had already gone, leaving her with aching arms, a grazing pony and her backpack’s contents lying all over the place. _What the hell was that all about?_

***

 

Thorin knew he should not be as angry as he was. He knew that and yet there was nothing he could do to control his temper. He could not even tell why he was angry about this. Surprised, struck dumb, maybe even amazed, those things he could find a reasonable explanation for. The fury he could not.

But surprise was an easy emotion in this case. Because for some reason that woman did not even seem concerned with rewards of any kinds. She wasn’t showing off, priding herself in needing no gold, it was genuine. Kate Andrews was possibly the worst liar in existence and if she had not meant what she’d said, then he would have known. And she was not lying. She meant every word of it. She truly had no interest in being rewarded for the services she did them.

And it was no small thing she was doing. He had initially been loath to see it, too absorbed with the problems she presented rather than with the benefits of having her in the company. But now he knew that her knowledge about this quest was one of the most valuable assets to the success of the mission, although this he would of course never repeat out loud. But Kate had tied herself to this quest in a way only Thorin himself had truly done, although he did not doubt that the others would do it as well if he only asked. But she had done it without asking. Oh well, he had asked for an oath, but not one such as the one that had been made.

And she expected no reward for what she was doing. She had been torn away from home and family, risking her life on a quest in a world that was not hers for a people that she did not belong to, would never belong to. Yet the only reward she sought was to be sent home at the end of the quest and that was something that would have happened nonetheless. It did not count as a reward of any kind to him. It was nothing to compensate her for her troubles, for the fears and the risks. As her friend as well as the leader of the company that was something he could not stand for and he could not for the life of him understand why she could not understand that. Did she truly think they cared so little about her?

But he should not have lost his temper with her and he would probably need to do something to make it up to her, although helping her fix that messy hair of hers was out of the question for the obvious reasons. She seemed to be uncomfortable with it for some reason or the other. Thorin did not know why exactly. It just was. Unfortunately that made his list of how to make it up rather short, or rather, non-existent.

The advisor seemed to have regained some of her good spirits and was now riding in the middle of the column with Bofur. The dwarf was teaching her some songs and Kate quite seemed to enjoy it. The two of them were laughing and having fun, so Thorin let Gandalf do whatever he wanted and lead the way while Thorin fell back to listen as inconspicuously as he could. The wizard wasn’t very good company now anyway, not since he had learned that they were not about to follow his precious book. The dwarf king could not care less about Gandalf’s opinion, but it did make the man be very unpleasant to be around, especially now that his beard was still burnt and his pipe still floating down the Anduin, so he did not even have his smoking to calm his frayed nerves. Putting some distance between them would not be such a bad idea.

Bofur had taken over the singing, embarrassing the advisor with a song that Thorin himself would never have sung in company, never mind female company. Kate’s cheeks coloured a bright crimson. ‘Bofur!’ she exclaimed.

It sent the dwarf in question and a few of the surrounding ones into fits of laughter, while the hobbit’s cheeks turned even a brighter shade of red than Kate’s. He’d already suspected that the burglar had led a sheltered life and this more or less confirmed it. And Bofur’s song was hardly what he would call respectable. It made Thorin smirk.

‘You know any better songs, lass?’ Bofur asked.

‘That’s hardly difficult,’ Kate countered. ‘There don’t seem to be worse songs in existence.’

‘Share some with us,’ he challenged.

The advisor sent him a glare. ‘It’s not some song-on-demand thing going on here,’ she reminded him. ‘And my voice is hardly worth listening to.’

‘We’d like to hear anyway, don’t we lads?’ This was addressed at the rest of the group, who loudly declared their approval.

‘You are aware I am the company advisor, not the company entertainer, right?’ If Thorin knew her at all, she was trying to make an escape. He had caught her doing almost the exact same thing a few nights ago when Thorin had played the harp. He had let it, respecting her wishes. He just did not think his men would let her off that easily, unless Dori would interfere. And there was every chance that he would, because he would not want his little sister to be uncomfortable.

‘Well, what else are we going to do here anyway?’ Fíli asked. ‘We’re all stuck on the ponies. We’ve got to do something.’

‘You can always tell an interesting story,’ Kate suggested, an edge of hopefulness to her voice. ‘Or play _I Spy_ ,’ she added slyly. Thorin tried and failed not to chuckle, remembering all too well that Kíli and Bofur had driven the company half mad with that silly game by playing it almost literally from dawn to dusk after leaving Rivendell.

‘Nah, we’d like songs better,’ Fíli said. He was clearly not to be distracted, sensing that the woman was trying to get out of it by suggesting other options.

‘I can also read to you tonight,’ she tried.

‘You could do so anyway.’

Thorin could swear he could almost hear her teeth grit in frustration. What he did not understand was why she was making such an issue of this. It was normal to sing on the road to pass the time and surely she must know that by now? She had heard them do it for months. And she herself had sung when the elves and goblins had serenaded them. Her voice was nothing truly special, but it wasn’t a torment to hear either. At least it was not off key and that was more than he could say for half of the company.

‘You could also leave me alone,’ she pointed out. ‘And bother someone else. I’m not even sure why you lot are so anxious to let me make a fool out of myself by singing. I’m really not that good at it. And you would not like my world’s music anyway. Just leave it, will you?’

But that was not likely. The more she protested, the more insistent his men would become. It was a rule they lived by. In that respect they were not unlike the annoyed advisor.

‘You can’t be worse than Bofur,’ Kíli teased, earning him an indignant ‘Oi!’ from said dwarf. ‘Please? I’ll catch you a rabbit for dinner if you do.’

This earned him a glare from the advisor. ‘That,’ she growled. ‘ _That_ is blackmail.’

‘Only if it works,’ Thorin’s youngest sister-son said, wholly unconcerned. ‘Does it?’

‘Bastard,’ Kate muttered. It didn’t have the desired effect, Thorin observed. At the beginning of the quest anyone who heard such an insult would be gravely offended. Now they were not even that impressed anymore. It made him realise how used they had become to Kate’s presence and her strange words. ‘I’d better have that rabbit,’ she added in a threatening voice. ‘Or I’ll make Goblin-town look like a walk in the park for you.’

‘I swear before Mahal that you will have rabbit tonight,’ Kíli promised, before realising something. ‘Gandalf, are there rabbits here?’

The wizard turned around, an expression of mild irritation on his face. ‘Yes, Master Kíli, there are indeed. And you are very lucky that they are or else you would have ended up breaking your word. You ought to be more careful before you promise something.’ Thorin agreed, even if he did not think it was any of the wizard’s business.

Kate laughed, a sound of happiness. It reminded Thorin of the happy woman he had seen in the small painting back in Rivendell. She did not do that often, but it was a good sight and Thorin enjoyed it. The company could use it, especially with the dark Mirkwood looming on the horizon. ‘Fine,’ she said, throwing one hand in the air in a gesture of surrender. The other hand held onto the reins. ‘Have it your way.’ She threw Kíli one last exasperated look and started, carefully avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes, almost as if she was ashamed:

 

‘ _She told him she’d rather fix her makeup_

_Than try to fix what’s going on_

_But the problem keeps on calling_

_Even with the cell phone gone_

_She told him that she believes in living_

_Bigger than she’s living now_

_But her world keeps spinning backwards_

_And upside-down._ ’

 

Thorin listened intently. It was different from how they sang their songs, but it was not necessarily bothering him. He did not understand all the words, but he understood quite enough to make him wonder if perhaps she was singing about herself and if she was even aware of that she was doing it. Sometimes she would retreat into that head of hers to a place where no one could reach her and they could only guess at what she was thinking at such a moment. And Thorin understood, because he used to do it a lot as well.

He actually enjoyed the calm day. It was going to be the last one before they entered Mirkwood and his men seemed to be of the opinion that they should make the most of it while it lasted. There would be no room for singing, storytelling and merry-making once they entered those woods. They would need to keep quiet and alert, be constantly prepared to fight any danger that might cross their path. The dwarf king had not forgotten Beorn’s warning about orcs using the road and if they indeed were, chances were they would run into a group of those sometime during the march through the dark woods. It wasn’t a prospect that was very tempting. But it was still better than the alternative, the northern passage through Mirkwood and he would not be dissuaded from taking the Men-i-Naugrim.

The song went on behind him. Kate sounded more sure of herself the longer she kept going. She even sounded like she was starting to enjoy herself, especially since some of his men joined in when the chorus came around a second time. Some of them were off-key and they did not always get the words right, leading to more fits of laughter. It were happy sounds and Thorin could not begrudge them this happiness. They would need to take the memories of it with them into the dark forest to keep them going.

‘Thorin.’ The almost icy mention of his name made him swivel his head around, only to find Dori riding next to him, looking at him with a stern expression.

‘Dori,’ he acknowledged. He had a faint idea what this was about and he was hoping to Mahal that he was wrong about this. The eldest Ri brother had been throwing him disapproving looks ever since he had first noticed the bruising on Kate’s wrist, caused by Thorin’s firm grip on it. He may be a king, but it was obvious that this fact did not mean anything to the other dwarf as soon as his family was concerned. Why could Kate not have been adopted by Bofur and his family? It would make things, and in this case his life as well, so much easier. ‘Is all well?’ he informed politely.

‘We need to talk about my sister,’ Dori replied. The tone was polite, but still very icy.

He had feared as much. ‘Does she know about this?’ he informed. He could not for the life of him imagine Kate approving of her brother “fighting her battles for her” without her knowledge or consent. She’d throw a tantrum if she’d found out and he for one would not want to be near when that happened.

‘There is no need for her to know,’ Dori said dismissively. ‘I want to know what is going on, Thorin Oakenshield. You may be my king, but I will not stand for you mistreating her as you have done on several occasion now. Have you seen the bruising you caused?’

He had and he could not honestly blame Dori for getting mad at him for it. It was looking painful, even though Kate seemed to shrug it away. Had he seen this on a woman, he would have demanded she reveal the identity of the man who did that to her so he could set the fellow right about how one treated females.

But the worst thing was that he had not even been squeezing very hard. He had held her to prevent her from running, but he had not been aware of him hurting her. That had never been his intention. Maybe it was because she was of the race of Men. They were more fragile than dwarves and apparently they bruised more easily. He however did not think that this would do anything to pacify the dwarf riding next to him.

‘I am aware and I offered my apologies to Miss Andrews,’ he replied curtly. She would not want to hear him say her name like that, or she’d bite his head off, but the formalities might do something to soothe Dori. ‘The matter has been solved some days ago.’

‘Then I hope I can trust that I will not be seeing this again.’ Dori was in full protective older brother mode. Had the situation not been so serious, and had Thorin not been the guilty party in this, he would have found it amusing, he was sure. As it was, he was the offender in this matter and there was only shame mixed up with irritation now.

‘You can,’ he said, forcing himself to meet the other’s eyes. ‘But your sister is quite capable of telling me herself if I do something she disapproves of. She is stronger than you give her credit for.’ She may not be so in bodily strength, but her strength of mind was equal to that of a dwarf. The advisor was not easily broken and if she was, it did not last long. And she was as stubborn as any of their race. She just did not look a dwarf or he might have mistaken her for one sometimes.

‘She is my sister,’ Dori said, as if this was an explanation in and out of itself, which it probably was. ‘It is my duty to look after her.’

 _She’s just going to love hearing that_. Did Dori truly not know her as well as to know that? She did not want others to solve her problems for her. ‘And that does you credit,’ he admitted.

The other dwarf nodded. ‘So, tell me, Thorin Oakenshield, if you indeed acknowledge me as Kate Andrews’s brother, why have you not yet asked my permission to court her?’

Thorin had expected more demands from Dori, but mostly he’d expected he would have to give a promise not to harm the advisor again. That was a promise that would be easily given, since he had never intended to hurt her in the first place. This he had not been expecting. What was this even? Was Dori trying to get him to marry the advisor?

‘I beg your pardon?’ There was still a small chance that he had misheard him.

Dori took it as his cue to elaborate. ‘Do not play ignorant.’ He would have snapped the words if he’d thought he could get away with it. Fortunately being a king had its advantages, if not too many in Thorin’s opinion. ‘The entire company has seen how the two of you behave around one another.’

This was quite a revelation, even if it was completely wrong. The dwarf king recalled Kate saying that at least some of their companions were trying to get them together or, Mahal forbid, had thought that it had already happened. He had not been aware that Dori was one of them. He had always struck them as one of the more level-headed dwarves, one of the most sensible people on the quest. He should have been the last to believe such idle gossip.

And still it did not make sense for his men to believe in the possibility. At first he had taken it for meaningless, if annoying, teasing, because the very idea of a dwarf marrying a human was as farfetched as they came. It did not happen. It had never happened and nor would it ever. There was no physical attraction to begin with. Kate was an interesting woman, and that was how they had become friends. She had risked her life for him, stood by him when he had told her to run and he would admit that their bantering was entertaining, but the physical attraction was non-existent. Kate was too skinny and too hairless to be considered attracting to any dwarf and Thorin had far more important things on his mind than courting and marrying. He had accepted long ago that such things were not meant for him and he had not regretted that. He did not miss it.

‘I have befriended your sister,’ Thorin replied, trying to keep his voice under control. ‘That much is true. But I do not court her and neither do I have any intention to.’ His pride told him he did not need to answer to him, but if he did, that would at least end this ridiculous nonsense. That had to be worth something.

Dori nodded, but did clearly not believe him. ‘I would only ask you to do right by her,’ he said gruffly. ‘She is ignorant of the customs of this world. I will not have anyone taking advantage of her.’

 _Like you’re accusing me of doing?_ The voice in the back of his head seemed to speak with Kate’s most sarcastic tone. ‘I took an oath to protect her,’ he replied, conjuring up his most icy tone in the hope that would make the eldest Ri brother back off. ‘No harm will come to her as long as I live and can hold a sword.’ This might confirm what half of the company was clearly thinking already, Dori included, but at least this would make him understand that he would not harm the advisor in any way, because such oaths were not taken lightly, even as the one who the vow had been made to was unaware of that. _Someday her ignorance might just get her killed._

Fortunately for him Dori understood a dismissal when he heard one. He gave his king a curt nod. ‘Then we understand each other,’ he said. That was a dismissal and a warning in one single sentence for those with ears to hear it and Thorin had been roaming the realm of politics long enough to read between the lines. Dori was as good as uttering a threat to make Thorin regret it if he ever as much as harmed a hair on Kate’s head, but because of the way he had been phrasing it, Thorin could not call him out on it, which was, to be quite frank, more than a little annoying.

He let it be for now. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight over and Dori re-joined Bombur and Glóin further down the column now that he had made his point. The encounter had passed unnoticed by most of the others. The only one to have realised seemed to be Bifur and with him there was no danger of telling any of the others, for which the dwarf king was secretly grateful.

He spent the rest of the day riding alone, content to listen at the others. It gave him the time to ponder Dori’s words and the company gossip in general. He had done this before, but he could simply not help but wonder why everyone he had met on this quest so far was of the opinion that he had formed some attachment to the advisor. It was true they spent a lot of time in each other’s company, but their respective roles within this group made that inevitable anyway. She was the advisor, he the one the advice had to be given to. They were allies and friends, but nothing more, yet everyone, even the elves, had assumed that there was more, a lot more.

But his mind refused to come up with any satisfactory answers and in the end he gave up. The sun was setting and they had come close to Mirkwood, putting Thorin on edge for quite different reasons altogether. The very thought of entering it the next morning made him internally shudder, making him wish they could travel around it instead of cutting straight through it. But there was no choice in this matter.

‘We camp here,’ he announced, dismounting the pony. It was yet half an hour walk to the woods, but he would feel more at ease with some distance between them and the looming forest. The thought that he would spend the next day inside said forest he banished conveniently to the back of his mind. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

The company began to dismount and set up camp. Remembering the last time he had not done anything to help had gotten him a tongue-lashing from the advisor, he set about collecting some wood for the fire. Kíli and Fíli had taken off to hunt for supper – Kíli had promised to find rabbit after all – and they would need a fire to get it cooked. He could see Kate some distance away, doing the same. Thorin waited for her to be finished so that they could walk back to the camp together. He had sworn to look after her after all and he did not think it would count as looking after Kate when he left her outside camp on her own when she could hardly defend herself properly.

‘Well, at least there’s one advantage to being so close to a forest,’ the advisor said when she joined him on their way back to camp. ‘We won’t have a shortage of firewood anytime soon.’ She shrugged as she saw his puzzled expression at finding something positive about Mirkwood. ‘Well, every cloud has a silver lining, right?’

Thorin admired the optimism, but in his experiences clouds were mostly dark and grey. Silver linings had not been given to him very often. But he understood her need to keep her spirits up in the face of the looming danger ahead. It was her shield, her way of dealing with fear and he could not fault her for it. There were worse ways to cope.

He was about to reply when the advisor tripped over what appeared to be her own feet and fell, making her drop the wood she was holding. ‘Oh, shit!’ she cursed, not quite under her breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ She coloured bright crimson in embarrassment as Thorin helped her back to her feet. ‘The ground is rather uneven here, I suppose.’ She looked down in to see what had caused her fall and paled. ‘Oh, shit.’

Thorin was about to ask what had gone wrong this time, but looking down at what she was looking at made the answer all too clear to him. There was a footprint there, still quite fresh, no more than a day old. Normally Thorin would have said it belonged to a dog, but this print was far larger than a dog’s. This one had been made by something bigger and far more dangerous.

‘Warg!’ he spat.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What on earth was I thinking, choosing to come here? I should have persuaded Thorin to take the northern route!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins… Next time they’ll venture into Mirkwood. Until then, comments are still more than welcome. Your opinion means a lot to me.


	35. Shady Business

_I think I was shivering by the time we had reached the camp again, and it did not have anything to do with the cold, that I can tell you. My companion did not look too pleased with the way things were going either; if he had directed that scowl at me I think I would have run for the hills without as much as a second thought. And I think Thráin and Jack know exactly how your father looked that day. I swear that he had exactly the same look on his face after we had saved you two from the River Running after you had decided it was so hot that you would go for a swim, even when you didn’t know how to swim at all. It was that kind of scowl he had back then as well._

_A huge debate broke out. Some thought we should make a fire, because wargs don’t like fire, others were of the opinion that we should not make a fire as to not alert our enemies to our whereabouts. Both options were sensible in a way, but the dwarves were making such a racket that any orc worth his salt would have been aware of our location simply because of that. And in the end it was Thorin who decreed that we did need a fire, if only because we could not eat the rabbits raw. We would need to remain vigilant either way and fire would be as good a weapon as any sword should it come to a confrontation with wolves or wargs._

_Nevertheless I don’t think anyone was very much at ease knowing that our enemies might be hiding close by. Even Gandalf had shed his habitual infuriating calm, which was a novelty indeed. The wizard seemed on edge. I’m sure he didn’t miss a spell of what was going on. I knew he would be leaving in the morning and part of me had been looking forward to that, because his behaviour was getting on my nerves, badly. But just for once his presence was a comfort._

_But we were all jumpy and I do not think anyone slept well that night. Thorin had ordered three men to stand guard at all times and commanded the rest of us to lie down and get some sleep, but the absence of snores all around was a tell-tale sign that everyone may be lying down, but sleep was quite out of the question. So I think we were all relieved when a new day dawned and we had a good excuse to get up…_

 

Thorin had lived through many a tense night, but this one would always count as one of the worst he had ever seen. He had stayed up all night, keeping a watchful eye over his company and the surroundings. It had been his self-appointed duty to look out to the west, the direction their enemies would most likely come from. Orcs or goblins he could not say. They had only seen the print of the warg’s paw into the mud and both orcs and goblins used them for mounts. He snorted when he reminded himself that they might very well work together now. A common enemy tended to unite unlikely allies and Azog, although a monster, had never lacked intelligence. It was a common mistake people made sometimes when thinking about orcs and goblins. Those people usually came to an untimely end when confronted with them and Thorin had survived as long as he did for a very good reason.

But the night had been quiet. He had not heard as much as a warg’s howling throughout. It made him hope that the orcs had already searched this area for them before the company had arrived here and had now moved on to search elsewhere. He hoped for it, hoped for it with all his heart. The dwarf king did not reasonably believe that they could make it through Mirkwood without at least one fight, but at least they would have a head start. Gandalf had done some wizard’s trick to cover the tracks they had made the previous day and that was a relief as well, even as he would probably not be heard saying that where anyone could hear it. They still had some advantages.

Dawn could not be far away now. As soon as they had light to see by they would be on the road again. Even Mirkwood sounded better now than staying here whilst hoping and praying they would not be attacked. There was no snoring this night, making Thorin believe that none of them had been able to drift off to sleep. And he could not blame them for it. Despite the guards they had set out the danger remained very real and very present. Nevertheless all of them were lying down, getting some rest at least.

The king’s eyes drifted over the camp. There was very little movement at all, but he knew his men. They were not asleep. And neither was the advisor. She had curled herself up under her blanket, lying far too still. Maybe she was listening for sounds, anything that might indicate that something was amiss. He could not tell.

Nori had taken up watch close to her. He was watching to the north and east, keeping an eye on the wood and the plains, while Gandalf – did that wizard never sleep at all? – looked south and occasionally east. Thorin had never seen the wizard so ill at ease before. He had not made it a secret that he disapproved of this course of action, but he seemed to have resigned himself to it eventually, which meant that he clearly did not believe the matter worth to be arguing over. Had he really wanted them to take the elven path, then he would have been more insistent. No, then he probably would have found a way to make them take that path whether they wanted it or not. For now at least his manipulating temporarily seemed to be over and the dwarf was grateful for it.

He stood up as soon as they had enough light to see by. He walked over to the fire to stir it back up again. They would heat up the leftovers of last night and have that for breakfast. After that they would need to live on the rations Beorn had given them. That, and the few edible plants Mr Baggins had managed to collect along the road yesterday. Apparently the hobbit had his uses after all. Who knows, Gandalf might even have known what he was doing when he selected the halfling as the company burglar. The notion was a strange one, but a reassuring one all the same.

The rest of the company took this as their cue to get moving as well. One by one they pretended to wake up, although Thorin wondered if anyone was fooled by it. He didn’t really think so, but if they wanted to keep up the pretence of normality, then who was he to deny them that?

‘Well, looks like we came through the night without getting turned into a dog’s dinner,’ Kate remarked as she took a place by the fire, attacking her hair with the comb. The advisor was a little paler than usual, but she managed to conjure up something that with some imagination might pass for a smile.

Thorin took the spot next to her, the only one still available. ‘Would you call that a silver lining?’ he questioned, trying to keep up the banter. Humour might do all of them some good, especially in the face of having to enter Mirkwood. In this light it appeared to be even more threatening than it already had appeared to them in broad daylight the previous day. But he would not back out now. His company expected of him that he brought them to Erebor in time and travelling round would simply not get them there before Durin’s Day.

Kate threw him a wry look. ‘Well, I’d say so,’ she replied. ‘Bloody hair,’ she added in a low hiss when said hair refused to do her bidding.

‘Do you need help?’ he offered. He had no idea where the words had come from, but they were out before he had given them permission to do so. Well, it was something a friend could offer and that was what they were for all intents and purposes, even if their friendship would probably not last beyond the quest, because then she would go back to her own world again and visiting might not be so easy then.

To his surprise she snorted. ‘No, thanks.’ She lowered her voice when she continued. ‘There are already far too many rumours going around thanks to that one time. Let’s not make things worse, please.’

He understood what she meant, even if he did not like it. As it would turn out, Kate had been the one who had been victim of these rumours and insinuations, even as he had clearly been unaware of them. Maybe it would be time to find out just how far back this went, because it clearly went a lot deeper than he had believed, if Dori’s speech yesterday was anything to go by. ‘Walk with me,’ he said to her, not waiting for an answer.

Kate got to her feet, comb still in hand. Thorin took care not to help her up. Like the advisor had said already, there were far too many rumours out there. Both of them could do without them.

‘What’s this about?’ she asked when they were out of the others’ earshot. ‘The wargs?’

He supposed that would make sense to ask after, but they had not shown themselves last night and to be quite honest, Thorin believed that their enemies had indeed moved on, even if he did not know where to. Had they been near, they should have shown themselves by now and they had not. ‘These rumours,’ he said. ‘How long have they been going on?’

Kate’s eyebrows shot up to what appeared to be halfway her forehead. ‘That’s what you want to know?’ The tone of voice could only be described as incredulous. ‘We’re possibly chased by wargs, orcs and goblins and you worry about the things people are saying? I’d hate to say, but I think you should try to sort out your priorities.’

He knew what this kind of behaviour was. This was Kate trying – and failing – to deflect a question. ‘If the orcs had been near, they’d have come for us by now,’ he pointed out. ‘We are safe for now.’

Kate thought about that for a moment and then nodded. ‘You have a point,’ she admitted. ‘But we are at risk still, are we not?’

Thorin resisted the urge to snort. ‘We are always at risk until the dragon is dead and the Mountain is ours again,’ he reminded her. And she should know that as well. After all, Kate was supposed to be the expert where the book was concerned. She more than the others ought to know that every step they took was a risk. ‘But we are as safe as we can possibly be for the moment. Isn’t that enough?’ And Kate should know that he would not let any harm come to her. He had sworn to that. She could not have forgotten about that so easily, could she?

The company advisor nodded hesitantly. ‘Well, if you put it like that, then I suppose so.’

Thorin realised that he was in danger of letting himself be distracted by her and so he steered the topic of conversation back to the first subject. ‘The rumours?’ he repeated. ‘How long?’

Kate bit her lip. ‘You’re an instant one, aren’t you?’

‘Kate…’

She flashed him a quick smile, but her heart clearly wasn’t in it. ‘You’re not going to let this one go, are you?’ She waited a moment. ‘Really, Thorin, it’s not all that important. They’re just teasing.’

He waited. Asking her to answer him was just about as effective as asking an orc to wait a moment before he attacked: it was just no use. He had learned however that when he silently waited she eventually would start to talk. He had to learn that lesson the hard way, but now he knew how to handle situations like these.

And his assessment of the situation proved to be right again. ‘Okay, since Rivendell, if you really need to know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m not sure how useful this is to you, but don’t go too hard on them?’ She thought about that for a moment. ‘You know, better not mention it at all. I can handle this myself.’

That made him swivel his head in her direction. They had been standing side by side, watching the road westwards, but this request made him look at her in confusion. ‘Why?’ he demanded.

Irritation flickered in the advisor’s eyes. ‘Because I can fight my own battles,’ she snapped. ‘And because if you interfere they’ll only see it as a confirmation of what they are already thinking. Just leave them be. If we ignore it, they might just stop of their own volition. They might do that anyway, once we enter Mirkwood.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘It doesn’t look too inviting, does it?’

There was no arguing with that. The woods made the cold shivers go down his spine and there was no way he could blame the temperature for that. It wasn’t just that there were elves living in the forest – because they were living far more to the north and if everything went well, they would not even come near it – but the spiders that were said to be living here and the orcs that frequented the Men-i-Naugrim – which felt like blasphemy in and out of itself – those things did unnerve him and far more than he was willing to show to anyone.

‘If you are certain,’ he replied. He would discreetly tell some of his men to put an end to their childish behaviour and Kate would be none the wiser. It was time for them to start acting a bit more seriously with everything that was on the line now. These woods were not the place for these insinuations and rumours. If this had begun in Rivendell, then it had gone on for quite long enough already.

Kate nodded. ‘I am.’ She tore her gaze away from the woods. ‘Ugh, the mere thought of going in there gives me chills.’

‘We need to pass through them,’ Thorin pointed out.

He got a wry grin for his efforts. ‘I am only too aware of that. Doesn’t make me like the prospect any better, though.’

And the advisor was not alone in that. None of the dwarves had reacted with enthusiasm when they had realised that they needed to pass through these woods. Mr Baggins had even paled considerably, but no surprise there. The hobbit might prove a useful burglar, but he was no hero. Courage was in short supply with him. Of course Gandalf had been the only one not even remotely concerned. And that was strange, since the wizard was well aware of the dangers Mirkwood contained. He had read the book as well. He knew as well as they knew that their trek through the woodlands would not be an easy one, no matter which route they took.

It was as if Gandalf had heard his thoughts. He heard the footsteps behind them and turned around to meet him. ‘Gandalf,’ he acknowledged. Next to him Kate muttered a polite greeting as well.

The woman had stayed away from the company wizard since the incident at the Anduin and that was probably a good thing too. He did not thank her for throwing his pipe in the river, but no one had expected him to. They had very little patience with the other and the dwarf king tended to side with his advisor in these arguments. Gandalf may have his reasons for meddling the way he did, but it did not mean that they had to like it, for they did not. Part of him would truly be glad to be rid of the wizard for a while, even as he longed to have him back with the company when they reached the Mountain.

Thorin had read the book and the reclaiming of Erebor was something he desperately hoped would turn out different in the real world than it did in the advisor’s book. The book had described a series of failures that led to Smaug destroying Esgaroth before he was killed by a descendant of Girion of Dale. The people of Esgaroth might hate the dragon with a passion, Thorin did not doubt that, but the feud Thorin had with the beast was his and his alone. He ought to be the one that put an end to it. And now that he knew Smaug’s weakness, he thought it should be doable.

But to fight that cursed dragon, they needed to get to the Mountain first and to reach the Mountain, they needed to travel through this horrible forest. But knowing what was at the end of the journey strengthened his determination. They could do this.

‘Have you given any more thought to my advice?’ Gandalf inquired politely.

Kate’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and Thorin could feel himself copy the movement. ‘Which advice?’ he demanded, hoping that he was wrong about this one. And honestly, Gandalf could not really be suggesting that they turn back north now that they had already come this far? Well, he would not truly put it past the wizard and he _had_ spent the better part of their last day in Beorn’s house trying to dissuade Thorin from taking the Old Forest Road through Mirkwood, using arguments like the presence of orcs, giant spiders and the closeness of Dol Guldur. The dwarf had ignored them all, deflected most of them. Orcs they could fight, spiders they could run into on the elven path as well. Dol Guldur was more worrying. He had heard the rumours about the fortress. Evil resided there, but that it had already done long before Thorin had even been born. For all he knew that fortress had never harboured anything good.

‘Thorin, it is a dangerous road you’re taking.’ If the wizard had not sounded so annoyed Thorin might even be fooled into thinking he was begging. But that was not like Gandalf. He did not beg, he commanded.

‘As is the road you would have us take,’ he countered effortlessly. ‘You would lead us straight into the waiting arms of the enemies of my people.’ That thought made the sentence end in a growl.

There was a dangerous look that flashed across the wizard’s face. ‘You have no enemies among the elves, Thorin Oakenshield,’ he all but snapped. ‘The only hostility to be found comes from you!’

That notion was so ridiculous that Thorin would have laughed at it, were he not afraid Gandalf would blast his head off if he did so. Fortunately the advisor too seemed to think this was far too optimistic. ‘You know, I love how you are capable of seeing the best in people, Gandalf, but even you cannot be as dim as to believe that Thranduil wishes us well. You know as well as we do that he will not welcome us with open arms and tell you what, I’m not at all willing to spend time in his dungeons.’

Thorin agreed with her wholeheartedly there. She did have a good point. And Thranduil was more likely to lock them up rather than let them continue on their way. He feared Smaug more than anything, or so it would seem. He would not let them go to the Mountain to kill a dragon, not when he had the chance to stop it. The elven king was far too afraid of the dragon’s wrath. He would not risk Smaug coming to Mirkwood, because that would mean the end of his realm. Thorin was almost tempted to inform the dragon there was wealth beyond imagining in Thranduil’s halls, just in the hopes of Smaug taking off westwards. It would have the added bonus that he would burn down these blasted woods as well. Killing two birds with one stone, in Thorin’s opinion. It was just a shame that it was unlikely to happen for real.

‘The decision has been made,’ he informed Gandalf. ‘We will not go near Thranduil’s palace, not while there is another route available.’

Gandalf gave him a look that told him he would like nothing better than to tell him that there was no such route. ‘Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!’ he exclaimed. The only thing missing was throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. ‘That pride of yours will be your downfall one day, Thorin Oakenshield. Your chosen road will lead you too close to Dol Guldur!’

‘Yes, but I don’t think its resident will have much time to bother with a small company of passing dwarves.’ Kate’s tone of voice was relatively light, almost cheerful, but the look in her eyes would suffice to make milk turn sour instantly. ‘Because that’s where you’re going, isn’t that right? To chase the Necromancer out of his charming castle?’ The smile on her face reminded Thorin of a predator that had its prey cornered.

Gandalf’s face fell, if only slightly. ‘The road still isn’t safe, Miss Andrews.’

Kate glared at him. ‘There is not one single road leading through this bloody forest that could be called safe!’ she shot back. ‘And Thorin and I both think that this is the best option we have.’ She shook her head at him. ‘And why are you so hell-bent on making us go north anyway?’ The wariness was back in full force now, if it had ever been away, something Thorin rather doubted.

The dwarf king had followed the exchange with interest. He did not know what made Kate know what the wizard was up to – judging by his face he most certainly had not told her – but it must be something in that other version of the story, because he could not remember that the book said anything at all about what Gandalf was up to when he was not with them. He just disappeared and reappeared again and no explanation for that behaviour was given.

But no matter how the woman had learned about it, it was the truth she spoke and Gandalf did not like it. ‘That is not for you to know, Miss Andrews.’

Kate snorted. ‘And here was I thinking you wanted me to be an omniscient one,’ she shot back sarcastically.

Thorin could feel this could escalate soon if no one interfered. Because this argument would get them nowhere. Gandalf would not offer any answers and Kate would not give up her quest of trying to get them. They were at an impasse. ‘Our decision has been made,’ he said, making quite sure that this was the final word he had to say about the subject, that there was no more room for any discussion. ‘We will travel by this road. We have not come so far now only to turn back and take the risk of getting captured by _elves_.’ He spoke the last word as if it was some kind of contagious disease. The elves of Rivendell had, admittedly, been kind, but they had not known of their true purpose. Had they known, Thorin was certain they would have stopped them. Nevertheless, Thorin had to admit that they had been good to him and his company. But the same could not be said for Thranduil and Thorin would not risk coming any closer to that elf’s palace than he reasonably had to.

Gandalf was clearly bristling with rage, but at least he knew a lost cause when he saw one. He turned around and marched back to the camp.

Kate chuckled. ‘Well, that went well.’

And despite the argument that had just passed and the looming threat of Mirkwood so close, Thorin joined in with a chuckle of his own. It was only much later that he realised he had told Gandalf that it had been Kate and Thorin both who had made the decision to take the Men-i-Naugrim. A frown replaced the smile. Since when did he allow to let the advisor make the decisions and, more importantly, how in Durin’s name had that happened without him noticing?

 

***

 

Kate would not lie. She was glad to see the back of the wizard. For as long as she had known him and even before he had manipulated her every step and it frightened her. To be able to chart her own path was liberating, like breaking out of a cage she had not even been aware she had been locked into before she was released. Gandalf had done his best to steer the quest in the direction he wanted to for reasons beyond her comprehension, but it felt good to be free of it now.

At the same time his absence frightened her. They were about to enter the single most dangerous forest in Middle Earth and it was at the borders of said forest that he left them to their own devices. From here they had to rely on their own skills to reach Erebor. And it was not that she doubted her companions’ skills, even if she sure did doubt her own.

 _Oh, come on, it’s not like the wizard did that much when he was around_ , common sense commented as Kate was gathering the last of her belongings from the ground, brushing the dirt off them. _Come to think of it, how much magic_ did _he use?_

And it was right. Of course, common sense had the annoying habit to be right. Gandalf had clearly used magic when he had spirited her away from her own world, there may have been some magic involved in the rock-splitting stunt he pulled off when he rescued them from the trolls and he had certainly used magic in Goblin-town, but most of the time he had not used the magic that was at his disposal. He seemed to be far more handy with a sword. Most of the time he had spent nudging the company in the direction of his choosing. Logic would say that they should be able to deal with most of the dangers themselves.

‘Ready to go?’ Dori looked down at her.

Kate was still on her knees, stuffing the last things into the backpack. ‘As good as,’ she replied.

The rest of the company was much the same. Bombur was already putting out the fire, covering the place up as much as he could. If the orcs were to search the place, they would find the remnants almost right away, but at least it would not be visible from a distance and that just might make a difference.

‘You?’ she asked. ‘Are you ready?’

None of the dwarves had so far displayed a great liking for the forest they were about to enter, and Kate could relate to that. As a child she had once gotten lost in some forest or other, that, at the time, had seemed enormously large and terrifying. Since then she had enjoyed walks in the woods when she could, but this forest brought back all those childhood memories. Because this forest was huge and dangerous. And it would be all too easy to get lost in it and never be found by anyone. That was not a prospect she found herself looking forward to. And dwarves belonged to a race that preferred the caves, the mountains, the deep places of the world. They had no love for woodlands.

Mirkwood, so she decided, looked like an monster ready to devour them, swallow them up and never release them again. And knowing the story as she did, she also knew that it would make quite an effort to make sure they never saw the bright light of day again. She had dreaded the dark woods more than the dragon even. At least she would not be supposed to come near that fire-breathing monstrosity. Mirkwood however was something she could not avoid.

Dori flashed a reassuring smile and helped her to her feet. ‘We will not let any harm come to you,’ he promised her.

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Normally she might have flown off the handle for trying to mollycoddle her, but with that forest in her line of sight, the words reassured her and that was something she found herself in need of right now. ‘Come on, let’s join the others.’

The others were all ready to go and Kate hoisted her backpack onto her back. The thing was heavier than usual, what with all the supplies stuffed in it, and it hurt her shoulders already, but she would not be heard complaining. Her load was still lighter than the others’ because she was a woman and she was not going to burden them. She had decided to make this quest her own and that meant that she could not complain like she had done before. It was out of the question.

But being part of the company now did not mean that she was suddenly any more brave than she had been before and when they entered the woods properly, she took care to stay in the middle of the column, walking next to Balin and Ori. The elderly warrior was not as young as he used to be, but in case of an attack he was more than capable of defending himself, and hopefully her as well. Moreover, falling into step with these two dwarves made her able to pretend that this was just another normal day with Ori showering her in questions about her world. It gave her a sense of normality.

And Kate needed that, because Mirkwood was every bit as frightening as she had imagined it to be. There was no sunlight here, no wind. The air was damp and heavy, making it hard to breathe. It felt like it had been here for hundreds or thousands of years, never moving, never changing. There was light to see by, but it was a constant half-light. They were moving in a twilight that would never lighten up.

Kate did not look back, fearing that if she did so, she would run for the light outside the forest without as much as a second thought and that would do her no favours at all. She had chosen to stay with this quest and the time for choosing otherwise was over now.

The last light of outside the forest faded quickly with all these trees to obscure the light and after a while Kate could no longer tell how long they had been walking. The surroundings were dark and all the trees looked the same when one only saw enough of them. There was no way to tell the time in this blasted forest, not by the light at any rate. For the first time Kate was grateful for her wristwatch. She hadn’t really needed it since the quest had begun and she had half feared that the battery would have run out by now, but it was still in working order, which was indeed a stroke of luck.

Or maybe luck didn’t have anything to do with it. Because logic would dictate that all the modern stuff she had brought with her would have long since died a silent death weeks ago. Her mobile phone was still functioning – apart from the fact that there was still no sodding signal to be found – and the same was true for her mp3-player. And there was no logical explanation for that, but maybe there was a magical one. So far all the batteries were still completely full and there was a memory of Gandalf near her belongings one evening as they had set up camp near Bree, for which the wizard of course had failed to give any kind of clarification. But that was nothing new at all and so many things had happened since that it had quite escaped her mind, but now she wondered. It did however not explain the reason why he had done that.

But then, Gandalf had never been too eager to share his secrets, which made Kate sometimes want to do a whole lot worse to him than just throw his pipe into a river. In this case, however, she would admit that he had done her a favour, although it was probably safe to say that he had not done so out of the goodness of his heart. There was always something else where the grey wizard was concerned and Kate had learned to be suspicious.

A strange thing it was indeed, she pondered as Ori chattered on about the specifics of life in the Ered Luin, which only required her to ‘hm’ every now and then. In the books and movies she had always quite liked Gandalf. She could see that he did sometimes use people as pawns in a much larger game, nudging them out of doors, pushing them into a certain direction, but she had always believed that it was for some higher purpose, which made it somehow acceptable. And the annoying thing was that the wizard was doing what he did in real life for a higher purpose as well, but it was quite a change from reading about it when one suddenly found oneself on the receiving end of his meddling. Well, at least they were finally free to make their own way from here on. It almost made her smile.

It was only when Ori stopped talking that the real atmosphere in these woods really started to register in Kate’s mind. There was too little sound; no bird song, no sound of trees moving and moaning in the wind, nothing that made a normal forest normal. Sound did not carry far in here; the air was just too thick.

The advisor made her way to the dwarf king at the front of the column when the light started to grow ever dimmer. If the book was right, then soon they would not see a thing anymore and they needed to make camp before that happened. She did not think this would have passed Thorin by, but she could actually use the conversation and he was the only one right now she could truly share her concerns with, especially when the book was involved. And this was just a good excuse. Well, friends were allowed to do that, weren’t they?

‘I don’t think it will be light for much longer,’ she said as she fell into step beside him, feeling every inch the advisor right now. She found that she liked it, this new role. It made her feel like she could truly contribute to the success of the quest and that was a pleasant feeling.

‘I wasn’t aware it was light to begin with.’ Thorin managed to conjure up something that looked like a sarcastic grin. There was a whole new side to this dwarf she had hardly started to uncover. She should not be surprised that there was. After all, until a few days ago they had hardly been able to keep up a civil conversation. That was, admittedly, not the best way to get to know a person. Still, she had always taken Thorin for a rather serious kind of person, not the one who was even in the business of laughing, never mind sarcasm. In a strange way it both did and didn’t fit him, but, if she was really honest, she liked this new Thorin. But she would not be heard saying that out loud, not ever. There were far too many rumours out there already.

She found herself reacting to the banter almost right away. ‘Forgive me,’ she said in a half-mocking voice. ‘What I meant to say was this: I don’t think there will be much of this half-light for much longer. In other words: best stop before we can’t see a bloody thing anymore.’

One corner of the dwarf’s mouth curled up. ‘You are right.’

‘Alert the press,’ she shot back, before she realised that this still meant nothing to him. ‘Correction: alert Ori, so that he can write it down in the chronicles for future generations to read.’

Thorin had looked puzzled for a moment, but her correction made him get the joke and the other corner of his mouth joined in the smile. ‘Is that truly such a rare occurrence?’

‘Do you truly want me to answer that question?’ Kate countered.

‘I’d rather you did not.’ He turned around. ‘We’ll camp here for the night.’

The sigh of relief was clearly audible. Kate figured they had walked longer than usually and no one was at ease in here. Most of the dwarves were even bordering on jumpy, although they would probably never admit to that when called on.

‘Shall we start a fire?’ Bombur asked.

Thorin and Kate exchanged a glance. The book had said that fire would attract moths, but that had been true for the northern route. This was far more south than that path. Things could be different here, even if it wasn’t very likely. But still, chances were that it would be different and it would be nice to not be surrounded by darkness entirely.

‘No harm in trying?’ Because of her own uncertainty the soft remark came out like a question.

Fortunately for her Thorin seemed of the same mind in this regard. He gave a curt nod. ‘Keep it small,’ he ordered his men. ‘And stay on the path. Under no circumstance are you to stray into the forest.’ That was something Gandalf and Beorn had instilled in all of them whenever they discussed the passage through Mirkwood, so that by now Kate was quite sure no one could possibly forget it anymore. Not that she thought the warning had been truly necessary. The advisor could not for the life of her figure why anyone would _want_ to venture into these woods out of their own free will. No one in their senses would leave the path voluntarily.

Darkness was falling fast now. Soon Kate could only still see the vague shapes of her companions. The search for firewood turned out to be rather unsuccessful, since no one dared to stray too far from the camp. There were some branches, but they would hardly last an hour, never mind a night. This knowledge chilled Kate to the bone. She was not afraid of the dark, had not been so since she was a small child, but this was a different kind of dark. And in here the fear of wolves jumping out of the shadows to devour one whole was not nearly as irrational as it had been back then when she had feared those monsters were lurking under her bed as soon as the light went out.

The dwarves were grouping together and Kate wished she could do the same. It would be nice to have someone close, within reaching distance. The others could easily do it, but she was a woman and for her to do so would be frowned upon, because for her it would have a completely different meaning.

She found herself cursing dwarven propriety once more. Before now she had never really had an issue with this. She had actually relished the chance to be alone, to have some breathing space, the smallest amount of privacy possible in this company of dwarves. She had never been bothered by the fact that her bedroll had always been a little farther away from the rest of her companions’ until now. Now it made her feel alone in the dark, and therefore vulnerable.

‘Screw them,’ she muttered under her breath. Her fear of the wood and its dangers induced a sudden wave of complete and utter disregard for rules and propriety. She would be mad to try and sleep with no one even remotely near, when anything or anyone could sneak up and snatch her away from her friends before they could notice, never mind stop it. And in the dark no one would see what even happened to her, so they would be in no position at all to stop it. Surely no one would protest terribly much if she remained close to her adoptive brothers? Such a thing could not be frowned upon, could it?

‘I beg your pardon?’ a voice suddenly spoke.

Kate dropped the bedroll and swivelled around. The light was nearly gone, but there was just enough to make out the well-known shape of Thorin Oakenshield. The anger for startling her quickly followed the relief that realising that this was not an enemy caused. ‘You buffoon!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again!’

Thorin remained wholly unimpressed, something that should not have surprised her. Sometimes he had one of those moods where she could shout and insult him until she dropped and he would not twitch as much as a muscle, making her feel like an annoying child for not having the same amount of self-restraint. It would seem that sometime between arriving here and setting up camp he had slipped into such a mood again. ‘Kate, what are you doing?’ The tone was patient, if slightly disapproving.

‘If you think I’m going to spend the night all by myself, then you’re mistaken,’ she pointed out. She swallowed when she realised how childish she must sound. ‘I’m not scared,’ she added. It was a lie, but he did not need to know that. And maybe, if she told herself so often enough, she could will it to be true. ‘I’m just not comfortable being this far away from the group with God knows what out there roaming the woods. I’m not very eager to make for easy prey.’ There, now she had made it sound like a well thought about plan, even if it wasn’t, but again, Thorin needn’t be burdened by that knowledge. ‘Your sodding rules of propriety can go to hell for all I care, but I actually plan to come out of this place alive and in one piece preferably.’

She did not know what kind of reply she might have expected, but what came out of his mouth was something she had not truly been prepared for. ‘You are right.’ The words were calm. It was annoying that she could not see his face – even his shape was hard to make out now, even if she strained her eyes, although he was hardly a metre away from her – so that she could at least gather some information from his facial expression. It was hard enough to make out what he thought in the broad light of day, but with only his voice to go on, it was even harder.

A quip was possibly the best way to deal with this. ‘Again?’ Kate tried to make her voice teasing, but felt like she failed miserably. ‘So, can I go on now?’

This earned her a derisive snort. ‘Where to?’ the dwarf asked.

‘Why, my brothers of course.’ Where else was she supposed to go? ‘I don’t think Dwalin would appreciate my snuggling up to him very much. Neither would I to be honest.’

This time her words drew out a low chuckle. ‘No, I do not believe that such a gesture would be appreciated,’ Thorin agreed, apparently greatly enjoying the mental picture. ‘But do you think you will be able to find them in this darkness?’ Good heavens, why on earth did that man sound so bloody amused? In Kate’s opinion there was nothing even remotely funny about this entire situation and for the life of her could she not figure why Thorin, one of the most solemn people to walk the earth, would think that there was.

Having said that, he did make a good point. She had had a vague notion of seeing Dori and Ori somewhere to her right. She could possibly get there if she was really careful, but in this blasted darkness it would be too easy to miss out on them entirely and stray right into the forest instead. ‘Yes?’ It came out as a question.

Thorin was still amused, if his chuckling was any indication. ‘I need to correct my question,’ he informed her. ‘Would you be able to find them without tripping over at least three people?’

She knew she wasn’t. All the light had gone now and there had not been much to start with. The wisest thing to do was to stay put till morning and hope and pray nothing would try to eat her in the meantime. ‘I am _not_ staying here all by myself!’ The fear and panic that were gripping her now as the dark closed in around her made the words come out harsher than she had intended.

The reply consisted of an exasperated sigh. ‘Lie down, Kate.’

Her temper was close to snapping all of a sudden. She blamed the panic. She would not be left alone here, not in this dark place. ‘Thorin, I am telling you…’

The dwarf king did not give her much time to voice her protests. His hands gripped Kate’s arms, which startled her all over again since she could not have seen them coming, and pushed her down to the ground. ‘Stop making such a racket, woman.’ The words were not quite snapped, but they were beyond a doubt impatient now. ‘My men are trying to sleep.’

No doubt about that. But she was still not going to be left alone here, even if it meant she had to snuggle up to Dwalin. Faced with the alternative that didn’t sound too repulsive all of a sudden and she could deal with the consequences in the morning. Right now, she could not care less about those. ‘I’m still not…’

Again he did not give her the chance to finish that sentence. ‘Lie down.’ It was not a request this time, it was a command. And he clearly expected her to obey it.

And she had no intention of obeying. ‘Thorin…’ She hated the fact that she was almost pleading with him now. Kate Andrews didn’t do that. It wasn’t like her and she hated that apparently a little bit of darkness was sufficient to turn her into a snivelling wreck.

His hands still had her upper arms in a death grip and he now used that to lay her down on the bedroll she had dropped when he had first startled her. ‘Lie down,’ he repeated. ‘And you’re not alone. I’m staying here.’

Those words were a relief. She was not going to be alone here. There would be someone here with her. Kate felt the urge to ask him to promise it, but she squashed it right away. She was not a child anymore. She was an adult, so she should act like one.

‘Thank you,’ she said, meaning those two simple words from the bottom of her heart. Something side-tracked her then. ‘This will probably feed the rumour mill.’ Only imagine what her companions must say when they found out about this. It would probably confirm just about every suspicion they had ever had about the two of them. Well, at least it was a small consolation that they had already thought these things before this had even happened.

She heard and felt more than she saw that her new friend sat down close to her. He shifted position until he had found one that was remotely comfortable and then surprised her by half lifting her up to place her head in his lap. ‘Sleep, Kate,’ he said. This time it sounded like a well-meant advice rather than a command. ‘No one will see this. It’s too dark.’

He was right of course and this allowed her to relax a little. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, putting up some resistance for the sake of putting up resistance. She was just not going to tell him how idiotically glad she was to have him near. And those rumours were a concern for tomorrow, somewhere far down her list of priorities right now. ‘Have it your way.’

His low chuckling in the dark told her he knew exactly what she was doing, making her feel rather like a fool for doing it in the first place. ‘Sleep, Kate,’ he told her again. She didn’t think he had ever sounded so kind before.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Why in Durin’s name did I make an offer like that?_


	36. Bad News

_Falling asleep that night was kind of awkward. I appreciated the offer Thorin had made, but it didn’t change the fact that I was all too aware of what our companions would say and think when they inevitably found out about this. I was at a point where I could have snapped at them if they so much as looked the wrong way._

_I’m not entirely sure why it annoyed me so much as it did. It was all good-natured teasing and I was quite sure that not one of them was too serious about it, because the fact remained that the entire notion of what they were suggesting was unheard of. Still, it did get on my nerves and I think my first reaction would be to keep my distance from Thorin as to avoid any more rumours from coming into existence, since there were so many of them already. But that sounded like running away from things and it would not be fair on Thorin either._

_Slowly, very slowly, I think there was a measure of trust growing between us. He trusted me to keep him from succumbing to the gold sickness and I trusted him enough to sleep with him watching over me. It was a friendship thing, even if it was unlike any other kind of friendship I had ever experienced in my life. It was teasing one moment, it was shouting the next. Maybe the charm of it was that at the very least it was never boring, never ever predictable._

_But I thought that at least the shouting might be at a temporary end now that we had entered these dreaded woods. In there it was essential that we were not constantly at each other’s throat, that we would work together well to make sure that we all got out again on the eastern end. King and advisor, as we had been introduced to Beorn by a very helpful Gandalf. The idea that I, a loud-mouthed journalist from a completely different world, had ended up advising a king was still surreal and in a way completely ridiculous, but then, so was the idea that I had been dragged into a world I had until some months previously believed to be only existing in books. And now I found myself in a world where I was knocking out orcs with a wooden shield, throwing a powerful wizard’s pipe into a river and befriending a king. Somehow life never quite does what you expect it to…_

 

The night was not silent. There were far too many noises for Thorin’s taste and none of them were reassuring. He was on edge, ready to get up and fight whatever it was that was hiding out there in the darkness. But swinging a sword around would not do him any good now. He was more likely to kill his own companions than he was to kill the creatures of this forest. It was too dark to see anything and they had too little wood to keep a fire going, for all the good that would do them anyway.

The only real option there was, was to sit here and wait for dawn to come. At least he should be glad that in this utter darkness orcs could see as badly as they could. They would not travel under these circumstances either, he knew, so there was no threat of an orc raid in the dark. It was a small consolation, a silver lining Kate would call it, but it was something and that was better than nothing at all.

So here he was, sitting in the darkness with the advisor’s head resting in his lap. He had still not figured out what had made him offer to remain with her, but he knew it had been the right thing to do, whatever that was anyway. In the dark Kate had been nothing more than a disembodied voice, but the fear was obvious in it. Of course she had denied being frightened, but Thorin was not fooled. Even his men were uneasy in this place. The woman, having almost no skills of defending herself, would have every reason to be scared even if she did not want to own up to that. And a friend could offer to remain with her. It was just the part where he had offered himself up as a glorified pillow that puzzled him.

And he could tell that it made Kate uneasy, or maybe it was just this blasted forest that made her as jumpy as she was. He could not tell for certain. She had fidgeted for a little while, but eventually the exhaustion had won out and she had dozed off. Now he could only hear her deep breathing. It was a relief that his plan worked in that regard, that she was able to rest some, as she should after a long night of waking and a day of walking with a bag that was visibly too heavy for her. He made a mental note to take some supplies from her and carry them himself. He had not missed out on the way she had grimaced when she had finally been able to put the backpack to the ground. He should have known better than to let her take on so much. She wasn’t as physically strong as the rest of them, Mr Baggins not included, of course.

He wondered about her now. Kate may have found it awkward to lay her head in his lap, as had Thorin, but she had not raised too many protests and the ones she had raised had been more of a show than real protests. They were coming to trust one another, he supposed, and now that her loyalty was no longer in doubt, he felt he could allow himself to rely on her word. And they were as of now the only ones in this company to know the full contents of the book. They were more or less forced to work together, even as Thorin was sure that had not been the advisor’s intent when she had first suggested he read it. She thought it had been a way of distancing herself from the company, but thanks to Gandalf it had only tied her closer to the quest. It made him wonder if she regretted it now, knowing what she knew now.

Night-time watches induced strange thoughts, the dwarf king pondered, and lately a lot of his thoughts centred around the woman whose head now lay in his lap. Thorin blamed the gossiping in the company for that. In the end it always led him to wonder how they were able to jump to such a conclusion, but he knew better than to ask it of them. He doubted he would get a straight answer out of them. And in this case it would be obvious why some of them would think what they did. He remembered doing this for his own sister when she was younger, but Kate was no relative, not by a long way.

‘Thorin?’ A deep rumbling snapped him out of his musings and back to the present time. Fortunately no one could see how startled he was in the dark, or the owner of the voice would have scolded him for it. Dwalin would not easily let him forget about letting down his guard in such dangerous territory and he would be right too.

‘Dwalin,’ he acknowledged curtly. If the sounds he heard were any indication then the half-bald warrior was making his way toward him, quite possibly because he found himself incapable of getting any rest here. Thorin could hardly fault him for that. As it was he was surprised that most of the others were resting. The snoring was almost as loud as usual. ‘Careful,’ he warned his friend. ‘Kate is lying here.’

‘I know. We all heard the ruckus she made earlier.’ It neither sounded hostile nor friendly. It was neutral, which was possibly the best he could expect, with things being how they were between the warrior and the advisor. They had been near enemies since the day Dwalin had learned she was a possible threat to the quest and Thorin himself. He had yet to see that Kate may yet prove to be the best way to keep this quest from failing.

He shook his head in disbelief. Was he, Thorin Oakenshield, truly admitting that he needed the help of a weak human woman? Denying it now would not do him any good now, not after the agreement they had made at Beorn’s house. He had feared that things would get awkward after that, because he had shown himself to be weak in front of a woman. Kate however had not seemed to be bothered by it. She treated him as she had done since she had done since they had made those oaths, like friends of sorts.

‘You should be asleep,’ Thorin told his friend.

‘As should you be,’ Dwalin countered.

‘I will find no rest in this place,’ Thorin replied curtly. He would not admit that to anyone else, but Dwalin was a trusted friend who would not think about telling his secrets to anyone else. He was a true friend indeed, one Thorin did not think he deserved. Dwalin had stood by him for as long the dwarf king could remember and he was grateful for it. He had also been the first to join up for this quest, a true friend and comrade indeed.

He could hear the other sit down next to him. ‘We will get out.’ Dwalin was not a man of many words and he was not good at reassuring people, about as good as Thorin himself was at that, but the words came from the heart. ‘Is the lass’s book any help?’

That was an unexpected question. Dwalin usually pretended the book did not exist at all, so him asking after it was a novelty. Thorin remembered his first reaction to her revealing the book all too well and his reaction had been very similar to Thorin’s own. Maybe he too was starting to realise that the book could be useful. After all, Thorin was his main concern and if Kate’s knowledge helped in keeping Thorin safe, then he would tolerate it, and her.

‘We think so.’ The use of the plural was certainly not intended, but it felt like the natural thing to be saying. ‘The route we are taking now is a different one than we would have taken according to that book.’

When a reply was not forthcoming, he simply assumed that Dwalin had nodded, as he used to do, though in the dark he could not see it.

‘You disapprove of this?’ he inquired, a little sharper than he had meant to. He knew he would continue down his chosen road, but he would feel better about doing this with his friend’s approval to back him up. It wasn’t simply a matter of Dwalin following him, it was about the dwarf’s approval of what he was doing. That was what counted, more than he was ready to admit.

‘Do you want an honest answer?’ The warrior sounded a little doubtful, or as doubtful Dwalin was capable of sounding.

And if that was the case, it was almost certain that Thorin would not want to hear the answer. But in this case he did want to hear. ‘Yes.’

There was a short silence, or as silent as it ever was in this forest. He could hear animals run around in the woods close to them and there were animal sounds that Thorin could not quite identify. He was not sure he would want to identify them. He was not the type to run, but this was something that set his teeth on edge. Give him an enemy he could see any day. He would rather fight Azog all over again than sit here and wonder if he would suddenly attacked from the dark.

‘I do not know why you believe her.’ When the answer came eventually it very nearly startled the dwarf king.

Thorin sighed. ‘Because she speaks truth, Dwalin. I have read the words from her world. There are no lies in that book.’ _Much as I dislike it. Much as I dread it_. ‘I would be a fool not to.’

He sincerely hoped that no one else was awake. He was baring his soul and he did not feel ashamed of that, not when it was Dwalin who was listening to him. But the thought of others listening to his deepest worries was a little frightening. He needed to appear strong for his men, because they all relied on him. The burden was heavy, but he knew he could shoulder it. He had done that since Azanulbizar. Breaking down was not an option, not when so many people needed him to be strong, to be alive. No, that was not something that he would share with Dwalin.

‘I don’t like it.’ Dwalin’s reply was blunt and disapproval was all too obvious in his voice. ‘We should not let our fate be decided by some book or other.’

‘We do not,’ Thorin reacted. ‘That’s why Gandalf brought her here in the first place.’ Not that the wizard had done anything to change their fates so far, but Dwalin did not need to know this yet. ‘We are changing it.’ Or at least he hoped that was the case. There was no guarantee that this would turn out as they had planned, but it was a chance Thorin was willing to take. It was a chance he _needed_ to take. He needed to do what he did now if he did not want to end this quest in a tomb deep under his Mountain.

There was another silence and Thorin realised that he had once again used the plural form, and that was bound to lead to questions. Dwalin was not the kind of man to make assumptions about his king’s private life, not out loud and in front of others. If he had any opinion on the matter at all, he kept that opinion to himself. Not that there was any need for him to voice his thoughts, because the dwarf king already knew that his friend did not approve of Kate Andrews. He frowned on her knowledge and her apparent closeness to Thorin. He had a strange urge to say that she was only his advisor and friend, and not anything else, but that might sound too much like he was denying something that was actually there. He would not do that.

‘You disapprove of her?’ he asked when Dwalin once again made no attempt to talk, comfortable with the companionable silence.

‘She saved your life when I could not.’ The reply was curt and not willingly given. ‘I made a promise to her not to bother her as I have done before.’

It wasn’t a real answer and that was a fact that had not escaped Thorin’s notice. And for some reason it vexed him. He would prefer it if Kate and Dwalin would get along, because it would certainly make his life easier. There was tension between the two of them. Kate was wary of Dwalin, even if she was grateful for the sword lessons he gave her, and Dwalin was wary of Kate. But both of them were now friends of his, albeit as different kind of friends as they could possibly be.

‘I cannot ask for more,’ he replied, knowing that to be the truth. He could not make his friend like the advisor, not even for his sake. Besides, Kate might just throw a tantrum if she ever learned that Thorin was, what she would call, fighting her battles for her.

‘So, there is truth in what the lads are saying?’ It was hard to judge what the dwarf was thinking without having the luxury of seeing his face. Sometimes it seemed Dwalin modelled his conduct on his king’s: neutral tone of voice, almost impossible to read. Dwalin had spent too much time around him, Thorin thought.

His own reaction to this was one of near shock. By the sound of it, it did not take much for the warrior to arrive at this conclusion, even if there was no truth in it. It was just as well that Dwalin could not see just how close by Kate actually was, her head still resting in his lap, a pleasant weight in it. Some lock of hair had ended up over his hand some time ago, no doubt escaped from her braid. The woman’s hair was too unruly to be bound for long. Maybe it said something about the owner of that hair as well.

There was something alarming about the notion of it being pleasant that Kate was so near in such a way, a way most people would not easily dismiss as friendly. He must have been listening too much to his men’s talk and now it was putting strange notions in his head, things that he himself did not feel at all. This was something he had done for a friend, a friend who was scared out of her wits. There was no ulterior motive, nothing like that. Yet the fact remained that he could not for the life of him see himself do such a thing for any other friend he had. With Kate it somehow, even for all its awkwardness, felt natural and this frightened him, more than he was ready to admit even to himself.

The silence dragged on, became uncomfortable now. ‘These rumours have not yet stopped?’ he demanded, hoping to deflect the question thus.

Unfortunately Dwalin had known him for years. ‘You know they have not.’ The tone was once again gruff, but not unfriendly. ‘And they won’t, not while the two of you keep sneaking off to places, holding hands, having whispered conversations everywhere.’

It would almost be too easy to give a much simpler, much more innocent explanation for these things, but he would not be seen defending his actions. He wasn’t answerable to any of them, no matter what Dori clearly had deluded himself into thinking. What Dwalin called sneaking off _was_ probably sneaking off, but not to do what everyone was clearly thinking. There was nothing at those occasions that was in any way romantic. They were meetings to plan their strategy and strangely enough Thorin had found they were working well together. They made for a good team, just not in any other way than being allies and friends.

‘Then you should tell them they should have other and better things to concern themselves with.’ He could not quite explain why he was suddenly as snappy as he was. ‘We are on a quest to reclaim our homeland. They should get their priorities straight.’

If Dwalin realised that his king was suddenly a bit more chagrined than he had been before, then he did not comment on it. ‘I would not disapprove of it,’ he said suddenly. Somehow Thorin didn’t think _it_ referred to the gossip they had been discussing. For a moment he was puzzled, not sure what his friend was even saying, but then he realised that it might very well be the topic of the gossip that Dwalin was talking about. It made him almost choke on his own tongue.

And that was leaving the fact that Dwalin had more or less given his approval for the non-existent match out of consideration. It became increasingly apparent that Dwalin was taking this seriously and as such, he was prepared to put up with whatever it was that Thorin wanted, as long as he was convinced it wasn’t bad for him. Kate should probably be rejoicing that she fell into the not bad category, but something told the dwarf she would have cheerfully bitten Dwalin’s head off for assuming things that weren’t there. It was probably just as well she was still sleeping.

‘Nothing is the matter between me and Miss Andrews.’ He was training himself to address her by her first name, but for now the use of her last one might just make it clear to Dwalin that there was nothing between them, nor had there ever been. ‘And you would do well to put an end to these blasted rumours when you hear them.’

His annoyance with all the gossip was growing by the minute. Some people should know when to keep their mouths shut, especially when there was nothing going on between him and the advisor besides friendship. And Thorin did not expect that there ever would be something more at all. He would never marry. It was something he had accepted long ago. He was shouldering too many burdens, was always on the road. That was not the kind of life he would wish for a woman. And he had no illusions. He was probably too old already to take a wife. No lass in her senses would consider marrying one his age. And Kate had only just begun her life. She was too young, yet if they both lived to a normal old age for their respective people, they would die around the same time, a strange thought indeed.

‘Short of bashing their skulls together, I don’t think there is anything I can do about it.’ Thorin could hear the amused smile in his friend’s tone of voice.

 _And that is supposed to cheer me up?_ The sarcastic voice in the back of his head sounded remarkably like the advisor, come to think of it. He must have heard too much of her sarcasm lately. ‘Get some rest, Dwalin,’ he told the warrior, knowing that this was an argument he could not win. If even his closest friends were convinced that there was something going on between him and the company advisor, then there was probably nothing he could say to change that. Only time would set them right.

And honestly, he had better things on his mind. They still needed to find their way through this forest and stay away from orcs, spiders and whatever else lurked in this blasted forest. He truly did not have the time to deal with such trivial matters and angering himself over it would not do him or anyone in the company any good. He could better keep his thoughts on the matters at hand and leave everything else till later. It was the best he could do now.

‘No,’ Dwalin disagreed. Judging by the noise he made he got up to try and find his way back to his bedroll. Either his sense of direction was better than Thorin’s or his memory was sharper than his king’s. Thorin was not sure he would have been able to find anything in this dark. ‘I’ll keep watch.’

The warrior would never voice concerns, but Thorin was no fool. Ten to one that Dwalin knew that he had already stood watch the previous night and that he had not slept at all, so now he took over to give Thorin the chance to rest. It was one of those things that did not need to be spoken. It was a thing friends did for one another.

And maybe his friend was right on this account. He was tired and the thought of someone he trusted staying awake made him able to relax some. And it would be wiser to rest while he could. The road was still very long and he could simply not stay awake every single night. So he rested his head against the tree trunk he was sitting against and closed his eyes. He drifted off sooner than he’d expected.

 

***

 

Kate was not entirely sure what made her come back to the world of the waking in the end. It could not have been the light, because when she opened her eyes there hardly was any. There was more light than there had been – not that it could be less – but still everything and everyone was painted in greys and blacks. But at least she could see something again and that was a relief, more than she felt ready admitting to anyone.

For a little moment she felt disorientated. Her neck was hurting because she appeared to be lying on a pillow that was a little too high for her. And that didn’t make any sense, because she was quite convinced that she did not even have a pillow with her. Most of the time she just folded her cloak under her head to have some support there, but this did not feel like her cloak.

Her brain was still hazy because of the last remnants of sleep that told her to quit the thinking and go back to sleep while she still had the chance for it. Her friends were still merrily snoring the day away and since it didn’t appear like they were in immediate danger from anything, it was probably safe to rest for a little longer.

But the riddle of the pillow was tugging at her mind, demanding an answer and she knew she would not be able to sleep again until it was answered. She blamed her natural curiosity for this, the I-want-to-know-something-and-I-want-to-know-it-now-attitude. That did come in handy in her job, but in times like this it was mostly just hugely annoying.

She propped herself up on her elbows to take a look. Sleep instantly fled as the shock kicked in. What on earth was her head doing on Thorin’s lap? How had it come to be there? As far as she knew it had absolutely no business being there.

She worked herself into a sitting position, trying to think straight. There was a faint recollection of going to sleep the previous night and Thorin was in it. They had argued about her trying to seek out her brothers and he had prevented her from doing it, pointing out to her that she would never be able to find them in this blasted dark, offering to stay with her himself. Kate wasn’t entirely sure why he would even consider offering such a thing, but she had been glad that he had done it. It had made her feel a little safer.

She recalled saying that his behaviour would sure suffice to get the whole blasted rumour mill up and running again. Thorin had reminded her that it was too dark for anyone to see anything and he had been right, at the time. Right now dawn was coming and she had better get away from him before any of the others woke up and started jumping to conclusions.

Thorin himself was still sleeping, rather deeply too. He did not even stir when she moved away from him. His head rested against the tree trunk he was seated against, mouth half open. In sleep his face looked relaxed, younger somehow. He certainly never looked that peaceful when he was awake, she observed. Well, everyone deserved to have some peace of mind, Thorin no less than others.

She stretched and decided to make breakfast. By the looks of things no one had been standing guard last night and she was the first one awake. The thought of not having someone watching over them was a little unnerving, but she would have to admit that even if there had been, they still would not have been able to see a single thing. No one could have seen in this darkness, with the possible exception of the creatures that lived in this forest.

She was turning towards the centre of the group when she realised she had been watched. Dwalin was sitting up, studying Thorin and her with quite the unreadable expression, one he seemed to have copied from his king. It was rather difficult to make out what he was thinking normally, but in this half-light it was even harder. But one thing was for sure, he had seen her lying with her head in Thorin’s lap. _Oh, shit._

Playing ignorant would do her no favours, but she might just get away with pretending it was nothing important, even if it clearly was. So she took up her bag and joined him. ‘Morning,’ she greeted. ‘I was wondering if you could perhaps help me preparing breakfast?’

He gave her a curt nod. ‘Aye.’ That was talkative, for him.

It didn’t do anything to lessen the disapproval that she could feel radiating off him now that she was closer to him. He did not like what happened here, but there was a certain amount of acceptance as well, acceptance that it was not within his powers to change anything about it. If anything, it set Kate’s teeth on edge. Was it just her imagination or had the speculating about the non-existent relationship increased tenfold in just the last few days? After the whole stay with the eagles people seemed almost convinced that there truly was something between Thorin and her, and far more than friendship as well.

As annoying as it was, could she really blame them for thinking that way? Hardly, she supposed. Ori’s drawing had made that much obvious to her. If she looked at her own actions from the others’ perspective, then it was all too easy to see that some things could be explained rather differently from how it had really been.

It did not change the fact that there was no relationship and in this case it was probably better to tell Dwalin that. ‘There’s nothing going on,’ she said bluntly. ‘Between Thorin and me,’ she added.

‘He told me,’ was the curt reply.

That was a surprise, but a good one in this case. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Then you can stop looking at me as if I’m responsible for every misfortune that has befallen you.’ Things had always been awkward between them and for no apparent reason, not that she was aware of anyway, and it vexed her. Yes, of course she was the weakest member of the group, but she wasn’t useless, not anymore. Good grief, he had even admitted to that himself. He had also promised not to bother her anymore and he hadn’t. But he didn’t need to rub her nose in her faults to convey the message perfectly though.

And she had just about enough of it. She picked up her belongings and demonstratively moved away from him, not ready for any kind of discussion so early in the morning. The rest of the camp was waking up slowly and she sought out her brothers for company. Dori fussed over both her and Ori’s hair, Nori tried and failed to make off with some things that weren’t his and Ori was already consulting his journal for something. It was reassuringly familiar and predictable.

The familiarity of it all made the dark threat of the forest bearable. It didn’t mean she suddenly liked it, because that was definitely not the case, but it made her capable of accepting that this was the way things were and she would have to see it through. Somehow it was worse looking at the forest from the outside, than being on the inside.

She stuck close to her family, but joined Thorin at the head of the column when Dori’s fussing began to annoy her. Apparently he too had come to the conclusion that something must be going on between Thorin and her, because lately he had started lecturing her on dwarvish propriety and courting rules. It was hardly subtle and Kate did not feel up to it. Somehow it had all sounded more interesting when Ori spoke of dwarvish customs than when their eldest brother did it. Of course, Ori’s chatter had the distinct advantage of not being a lecture.

‘So far, so good,’ she commented, beckoning at the road. It was obvious that at least this part of the Men-i-Naugrim had not been in disuse for years, even if it wasn’t all that it clearly had been once upon a time. The sides of the road were overgrown with plants of every kind, all of them looking extremely poisonous and inedible. The rest of the road was still in acceptable condition, allowing them to travel fast. It was, however, the question for how long this would last. Near the eastern entrance the road was practically non-existent, Beorn had mentioned, even when he had admitted that if they were careful, it should be doable to travel there. He had strongly advised against it, but he had given in eventually. After all, it was their quest and they should do as they wanted, something Gandalf had yet to understand.

While the state of the Old Forest Road was probably a good thing in terms of them being able to move faster, it was a worrying thing at the same time. She had checked the book again shortly before they entered the woods and it said nothing about orcs traveling into the woods themselves. But it was clear now that they did, maybe to go to Dol Guldur. Orcs didn’t love forests, but Mirkwood felt like the kind of forest where an orc would feel totally at ease. And with Azog hunting them he might not feel opposed to entering this place either, so even when they would not run into orcs that roamed around here anyway, they always had the chance of the Defiler catching them up at some point in time. That didn’t feel like a tempting prospect either.

Thorin nodded. ‘Indeed.’ The dwarf king seemed to be in a pensive mood, bordering on grumpy.

The rest of the company wasn’t as cheerful as they had been before they entered Mirkwood, but the gloomy mood that had plagued them the previous day had mostly subsided now that they had walked for a day and nothing had gone wrong. It was just another day’s march for them. Bofur was whistling a tune, Ori and Balin had an intense discussion about something probably very academic and Kíli had tempted Bombur and Fíli into a game of _I Spy_. Everyone was a little more alert than they usually were, but that was about it.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Kate inquired.

He looked at her face. ‘Do _you_ want to talk about it?’ he countered.

She sent him a quizzical look and an arched eyebrow. ‘Talk about what?’ she wondered.

One corner of his mouth curled up in what appeared to be amusement. ‘Whatever it is that makes you scowl at the road the way you have done the entire morning.’ Whatever had been on his mind seemed to disappear for the moment, making room for this new, almost teasing side of him.

Kate settled for rolling her eyes. ‘We’re in Mirkwood,’ she pointed out. ‘Isn’t that reason enough for a person to scowl? Heaven knows you’ve been doing it most of the time.’

‘You weren’t scowling yesterday,’ Thorin observed.

Good grief, had that man become insistent. ‘You know that discussion we had some time ago about you being a social worker? I still think it doesn’t suit you.’ She was quite sure that she did not want Thorin to know about her little discussion with Dwalin. He had been annoyed enough before and Kate was sure that him storming off to rectify the entire situation was of no use to anyone, least of all to them. That was the thing with this kind of gossip: the more one protested against it, the more insistent the gossipers became, because they saw the denial as confirmation. Best to let it bleed to death. She was however not so sure Thorin shared those views.

The dwarf fixed her with his sternest stare. ‘You are evading the question.’

She weighed her chances should she decide to go for the innocent approach, but something told her that was not going to work at all. He was just too focused now on trying to get her to talk. ‘Fine, have it your way. Just try not to fly off the handle, will you?’

The stare intensified, ordering her to elaborate. The promise she was waiting for would not be forthcoming.

‘I had a little argument with Dwalin just now,’ she told him. ‘He did not seem to believe me when I told him there was nothing going on between us, but he kept looking daggers at me, so I walked away. End of story. Now will you let it go?’

That was very unlikely. After all, it was Thorin Oakenshield they were talking about and he wasn’t very keen on letting things go. He sunk his teeth in them and hung onto them like a bull dog. It was quite possibly the reason why he could still get very upset over his grandfather’s death that had happened more than a century ago and that was leaving his anger towards the dragon out of consideration. He held grudges well and Kate made a mental note never to give him a reason to hold one against her.

‘He did not really insult me,’ she added. ‘He was just well… disapproval incarnate. He told me you had already told him that there was nothing going on, so I suppose that takes care of things.’

Unfortunately Thorin could be rather sharp when he put his mind to it. ‘Then why was he disapproving?’ he wondered. There was wariness in his voice; he knew she was holding out on him.

‘Because he didn’t believe you?’ she ventured hopefully, but one glance on his face told her this was not doing the trick. ‘Very well,’ she sighed. ‘He may have seen that you were acting as a glorified pillow. Does that by any chance mean something that I should have been aware of?’

The dwarf shook his head. ‘It does not.’

‘Then it is just Dwalin reading too much into things?’ she checked.

‘It is,’ Thorin confirmed. He seemed pensive again and not for the first time Kate found herself wishing she could open up some secret door in that thick skull and take a look inside to find out what was going on in there. Heaven knew that might make her life easier every now and then.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked hesitantly. Friends were allowed to ask, were they not, especially when said friend was the one who had begun this attempt at social work, not that it really worked.

‘You cannot guarantee we will not encounter elves, can you?’

Kate had not really expected a reply and especially not one such as this, which was, come to think of it, no reply at all. ‘I’m sorry?’ This came just out of the blue and she had no idea what he was trying to make her say.

An exasperated sigh was the result. ‘You cannot…?’ he started to repeat.

‘Yes, yes,’ Kate interrupted. ‘I did hear you the first time, you know.’ Not that it made any more sense now. ‘Just curious though, how did you link Dwalin’s behaviour to the presence of elves?’ And here she was thinking that only women did these sudden changes in the topic of conversation. Her mother was famous for it. But Thorin was the last person she had expected this from.

Thorin was evidently not feeling up to sharing. ‘Answer the question.’

‘Please,’ Kate muttered under her breath, before she continued in a louder voice: ‘Well, it is their realm. I suppose it is possible that we should run into one patrol or the other. I only know what’s in the book. I do not have the gift of foresight, you know. I’m Kate Andrews, not Mystic Meg, and in this case I know just as much as you do, which is to say: nothing at all.’

Thorin merely nodded, not even reacting to her last, almost sneered, remark. ‘If we should run into them, you will pretend to be my wife.’

That struck her speechless. ‘I’m sorry, _what_?’

She must have misheard this. Thorin hated the endless speculating as much as she did. He least of all should be willing to pretend to be married to her again, never mind that he was the one to suggest it. That would not help them in killing these bloody rumours at all.

But when the silence lingered and Thorin was still not preparing to explain himself, she realised that maybe this plan was not as stupid as she had judged it to be at first. After all, it were the elves he was talking about and if she had learned one thing about them in the short time they had stayed in Rivendell, it was that most of them had a sense of propriety that would put many a pope to shame. Put the elves in the Vatican and no one would question it. She amused herself with conjuring up that mental picture before dismissing the fanciful thought and returning to the matter at hand.

That must be it, the elves’ ideas of propriety. They would never let a human woman travel with a bunch of dwarves. It would be the whole Bree-scenario all over again. They had obviously not been able to believe that she was traveling with the dwarves out of her own free will and if the elves of Rivendell had not believed them married, they might have thought the same. Bloody elves. The more she heard about them, the less she liked them. Well, that should make Thorin’s day.

‘This is about the elves and their sodding sense of propriety,’ she concluded. It’d better be, because if it wasn’t she might just end up screaming like a lunatic.

A curt nod was the reply. The talkative mood seemed to have vanished in an instant, quite possibly because elves were hardly an ideal topic to discuss and Thorin’s hatred of them, especially of the ruler of this realm, ran deep.

She shrugged. ‘So, that means we’re sticking with the Rivendell cover story?’ she checked. ‘The whole nonsense about me being from Bree, you coming there and us falling in love, that kind of nonsense, right?’

Something in her words had made the smile come out again. ‘Yes, that nonsense,’ the dwarf confirmed. He sounded amused. ‘Though I would advise you not to use the word nonsense in the presence of Thranduil.’

She nudged him in the ribs, temporarily forgetting that he was wearing armour, so she only succeeded in hurting herself. ‘Ouch. Shit! And I’m not a child, Thorin. I won’t be as stupid as to make it sound like the story it is.’ She smirked at him. ‘Though I can’t promise you not to use the word nonsense where the elves themselves are concerned.’

His eyes joined in the smile. ‘I could not fault you for that.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, I’m sure you could if I did that when we actually stood before them and me and my big mouth just talked us all into trouble.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, it’s only a worst case scenario, so I’m not particularly worried. The elven settlement is miles….’ Whatever else she had wished to say got stuck in her throat and she skidded to a stop.

She had not been paying too close attention to the road before now, but occasionally she looked down to see where she was going. Right now, she wished that she hadn’t.

Thorin had halted too, fixing her with a stern glance, silently demanding what had caused her to behave in such a way.

Kate pointed at the print in the mud in front of them. It was frighteningly similar to the paw print they had found just outside the borders of Mirkwood, not to say, identical. And it was a print that, according to the book, had absolutely no business being here, because this part of the road was meant to be in disuse, overgrown. But the road was not overgrown and neither was it out of business. That print in the mud was more than enough proof of that.

There wasn’t any real doubt about the creature that had made it. She had seen their paw prints before. They were like a dog’s, only quite a lot bigger. It made her once again wonder why it had sounded like such a bright idea to call one of these beasts a nice doggy again, because nice was not a word one would easily use when talking about wargs.

‘Shit!’ The soft hissing to her surprise came out of Thorin’s mouth, although it would be safe to say that he had not realised that he had used one of her curse words and now was hardly the moment to remind him of it. This was far too serious to joke about.

Because the print was not leading out of the forest, back to the west entrance. It was pointing east, the direction they were heading. And by the looks of it, it wasn’t very old yet. There were wargs in Mirkwood and only heaven knew where exactly they were. Kate could feel a cold shiver travel all the way down her spine.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I have been such a fool. I should have persuaded Thorin to take the northern route. I knew in advance that this was dangerous, yet I still advised to go south and now just look at the mess we’re in. Could it be too late already to turn back and get out of here before it is too late?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time there will be some action, promise. In the meantime comments would mean a lot. I'd like to hear your thoughts.


	37. Found

Chapter 37

Found

 

_There was a whole lot of commotion after we had discovered the warg’s paw print in the mud. There weren’t any other tracks nearby, because the road was too hard. It was a mere stroke of luck – or bad luck, depending on your perspective – that this particular warg had left a print in one of the few muddier parts of the road._

_It was an instant crisis situation, with weapons being drawn and Bilbo, Ori and I getting shoved into the middle of the group while the rest went into fighting mode, clearly expecting wargs to come jumping at us out of the many shadows. Of course we all started to feel a tad bit ridiculous when no warg was forthcoming. It felt quite anti-climax to me and I suppose that the same could be said for the others._

_So when it became obvious that nothing was going to eat us right away everyone calmed down a little, but the relaxed mood was gone instantly. I suggested turning back, but was rewarded with a foul look from your father, one I am sure all of you are quite familiar with. In the end we – correction: Thorin – decided that we should press on, but all of us remained on full alert, weapons at the ready. After all, the warg had appeared to be heading east, but who was to say that it could not turn back? And who was to say that it was alone?_

_The atmosphere was tense and everyone was jumpy. I think that’s the perfect summary of the days that followed. We had taken to moving as fast as we could. Thorin was setting the pace, effectively making sure that we all dropped at the end of the day from sheer exhaustion._

_Those nights didn’t get any better either. Making a fire was officially out of the question to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Instead we had two watchers out at all times – not that there was much to see in that blasted darkness of those woods – and grouped together as closely as we could, temporarily forgetting about propriety and customs. Staying alive was our main priority._

_But days went by and there wasn’t a warg in sight. We kept seeing the occasional paw print, but they were always at least a day old and always heading towards the east. Eventually I think we all allowed ourselves to hope that we would get out of this unscathed. And that was of course the most foolish notion of all…_

 

Kate was starting to lose count of the days they had spent in this forest. After a while all the trees started to look the same and the days were so alike that after some time it became rather difficult to tell them apart. The mood was both glum and alert, the natural result of endless marches through this dark and depressing forest, the knowledge that there just could be an unspecified number of wargs and possibly orcs as well out there weighing heavily on all of their minds.

As a consequence there wasn’t much talking and the time passed in an unpleasant silence. There hardly was any conversation and if there was talking at all, it was only about the practical matters and the word conversation was hardly an appropriate word for these curt and hurried exchanges of information. The only thing even approaching conversation was shared with Thorin and that too was mostly about the road ahead, guessing where they were now. These matters hardly mattered much since they had no book to go on and absolutely no way of knowing how far they had already advanced, but it helped to talk about it. Kate suspected they were merely keeping each other’s spirits up, but that was not exactly an excessive luxury in these parts, more like a necessity of life.

It did however not mean that Dori suddenly approved of it. He was still under the impression that there was something going on between them – even if the bloody gossiping finally had stopped because of the much more pressing matters – and he kept sending glares in Thorin’s direction that the dwarf either did not see or pretended not to see. Kate would not rule out the last option.

And when they would finally put Mirkwood behind them, the tongues might indeed find themselves occupied soon enough. She sometimes had discussions with Thorin that lasted till late at night. There was no shouting this time. Not only was that the best way to avoid unwanted attention, but the advisor didn’t think they would have shouted even if they could have done so to their heart’s content. Something had changed between them and she could not quite pinpoint when said change had occurred. But it had.

These days most of the discussions began as planning the quest, but eventually the topic shifted to either of their childhoods, family, hobbies, music. It were the things she would have talked about with friends and that was what they were now. She squashed the annoying voice that said that this was also the kind of thing one would discuss on the first few dates.

Maybe Mirkwood wasn’t the place to talk about such things, but both of them felt the need for it, if only to distract themselves from the huge responsibility they were shouldering. Kate sometimes felt like an old woman because of all the burdens she was carrying around and it was not a pleasant feeling at all. This innocent chatter made her think of other things and as long as they kept their voices down the rest of the company would not wake.

Kate thought it was their eighth night in Mirkwood – give or take a day or two – that they ended up taking first watch together again. There wasn’t much to see, but they were the ones to be awake for the first half of the night, keeping an ear out for trouble since eyes were no use here. The others had gone to sleep as soon as the last light had faded, getting as much rest as they could get before another tiring day of marching. Kate’s body protested the notion of more marching, but her head knew that the faster they walked, the sooner they would get to the other side. And that was a welcome thought indeed.

She was lying on her bedroll, arms folded under her head, staring off into the darkness. ‘You know what I noticed?’

Thorin was somewhere to her left, close by, stretched out on his own bedroll, she supposed. It was impossible to see, but when he spoke his voice sounded close to the ground, indicating that he too was lying down. ‘I am assuming that you are about to tell me within the next minute, whether I want you to or not,’ came the amused reply.

This side to Thorin was still new to her and it wasn’t easy to deal with, not after she had gotten used to shouting at him for so long. But their shouting days were behind them now, it would seem. Thorin could still be as grumpy and uncommunicative as he had ever been, but sometimes, when he was a little relaxed, this side came out. It made him sound younger, much more carefree than he usually was and that actually was something she liked in friends. It was strange still to think of him as a friend, but she just let it go and went with it and actually found herself enjoying it.

She snorted. ‘Very funny, Thorin,’ she commented. ‘Well, I noticed that we don’t appear to be surrounded by eyes, like the book said we would be.’ At first it had not occurred to her. She had been too scared out of her wits by the darkness and the undefined noises that were coming out of these woods to pay much attention to what wasn’t there. It was only after a few nights that she had started to realise that there was indeed something missing.

Thorin thought about that for a moment. ‘You are right,’ he said eventually.

The advisor smirked in the dark. ‘You are aware of how many times you said that since we entered this dreadful place, aren’t you?’

Had someone told her she was teasing a dwarf king – a supposedly famous fictional dwarf king at that – some months ago she would have accused them of consuming far too much alcohol or reading far too much fanfiction. Or both. But right now it almost felt like the most natural thing on earth to be doing. She remembered thinking that fighting with this dwarf had been like trying to swim upstream in a river with a strong current, fighting all the while to achieve some progress, fighting for every small victory. Since she had decided to quit fighting, things had clearly progressed a lot. Uselessness of fighting indeed. This almost felt as natural as breathing, not that she would ever be heard to say that out loud. No doubt the rumour mill would be up and running the moment they left this place and they had given it enough food these last few days as it was.

‘If I recall right, you said it just as many times about me,’ Thorin countered easily.

Kate chuckled. ‘You’ve got me there,’ she admitted. Had he said that a few months, no, even a few weeks ago, then surely she would have flown off the handle. But this was not a few weeks ago, this was now and in the here and now she could joke with the king of Durin’s Folk every now and then. The world must have turned upside down without her noticing somehow.

Thorin joined in with that low amused chuckle of his own. ‘But you are right about the absence of eyes around the camp,’ he said, tone thoughtful once more now that they were discussing the more serious matters.

‘Maybe there are only animals so close to the elven path,’ the advisor suggested. ‘What with elves loving everything that is nature.’ She had not really been able to think up something else.

‘Or maybe it is because we are closer to Dol Guldur than we would have been had we taken the northern route,’ Thorin offered. ‘Radagast said that nothing lives and grows near that fortress anymore.’

Kate took a moment to think about that. Thorin might just have a point there. _The Greenwood is sick_ , the brown wizard had said and the advisor could see his point. The trees were still standing, possibly even growing and alive, but it wasn’t a healthy kind of growth. The leaves of the trees and bushes were of a so dark green that it was almost black, especially with the way the light was in this blasted place and all in all it was rather threatening. It was all dark and black, at night more so than it was at day and it wasn’t natural.

‘We aren’t that near Dol Guldur, are we?’ she asked, turning on her side so that she was looking at him. Or she would have looked at him if this thick blanket of darkness had not obscured her view. True to the book she could not even see her fingers if she waved them in front of her face. The dark had been unnerving the first nights, but apparently it was something one could get used to over time. It still bothered her, but it helped to know that other people were within arm’s reach. And if she was in danger of forgetting, then Dori’s loud snoring on her right was always a good reminder.

She frowned. Her oldest brother was less than pleased with the way Thorin and she kept seeking out each other’s company and she knew why. Apparently a man and a woman could not be just friends around here or people expected that there was something more going on between them than just friendship. And telling him that nothing more than friendship was the matter here had done them no good so far. So now Dori had appointed himself as a chaperone of sorts, keeping an eye on his sister’s virtue. She tried to find it annoying, but so far it was mostly amusing.

‘Good point,’ she admitted. ‘But there are animals around here, I think. We can hear them move at night. They just don’t come close to the camp. Not that you will be hearing me complain.’

She was rewarded with another chuckle. ‘I would think not.’

‘And we still haven’t seen wargs or orcs,’ she went on. ‘And our provisions still seem to be sufficient as well. So far I’d say things are going swimmingly.’

Really, she wasn’t going to cheer in advance, but this was a good way of keeping all of their spirits up. So far things _had_ gone well. Thorin guessed that they were about halfway through the wood now, even though it was hard to tell for sure. The rations were strict and especially Bombur was moaning about the lack of food, but so far the rations lasted. Maybe her plundering of Beorn’s pantry was going to pay off and they would be able to make it through Mirkwood with food to spare.

Thorin clearly knew what she was doing. ‘We are not out of these woods yet,’ he reminded her.

Kate reacted with a very unladylike snort. ‘You’re a little ray of sunshine, aren’t you? Always the optimist around here.’

Had he still been relaxed then he might have reacted with a snort of his own. Clearly he had slipped into one of his thoughtful moods sometime between their discussion about Mirkwood and her remark about how well the quest was progressing. It was impossible to say what brought it on, one never could with Thorin Oakenshield, but once he was in such a mood, it was almost impossible to snap him out of it again.

‘You have no idea how dangerous these woods are.’ The tone was solemn now.

‘I read about it,’ she reminded him. ‘I think I do know. And now that I’m here I can see it for myself. Or I would see it I it wasn’t so bloody dark in here.’ Somehow she couldn’t help but react whenever someone said she was ignorant of one thing or another. It still reminded her too much of her own father and even when she had been able to teach herself not to fly off the handle anymore, it was still quite impossible not to try and contradict them.

Thorin sighed. ‘There were stories about these woods even when I was a child,’ he told her.

This made Kate frown. ‘But when Radagast came to find us, he said it was a recent development, right?’ Of course this was just another thing where book and movie disagreed. She should be used to it by now, even if it was confusing at times. She could never know what knowledge was the right knowledge. And it frustrated her to no end.

‘Maybe it has grown worse than it was recently,’ Thorin speculated. ‘But these woods have been dark and threatening for nearly an age. There is a reason so few people travel by this road anymore.’

‘I can see that,’ Kate muttered. ‘Good grief, I’ve almost forgotten what sunlight looks like.’

‘We will see it again,’ Thorin said. ‘Once we get out of here.’ He was silent for a little while. ‘It at least proves that you are no dwarf.’

‘What, because I love the sunlight?’ She was quite sure the dwarf had not meant this as an insult, but to her it somehow felt like one, not that she would ever tell him so.

‘No, because you cannot appreciate the dark,’ came the reply.

She threw an incredulous look his way that he of course was unable to see. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly grown fond of this constant night. Last time I checked you weren’t exactly at ease here either, or in Goblin-town, come to think of it.’

‘It’s different,’ he told her with the air of someone who knows what he is talking about. ‘Goblin-town was… an abomination, nothing as it should be. Erebor…’ He was searching for the right words. The longing was back in his voice now. It was almost impossible for her not to hear how much he cared about his home. She could not quite understand how one could talk about one place with so much yearning, but he was absolutely genuine. She longed for home as well, but not in such a way. She just wanted to get back because she missed the people that made the place a home to her, not because of the place itself.

‘Magnificent?’ she offered, only the hint of a teasing tone to her voice. This meant too much to him to tease him about. ‘Wondrous, beautiful.’

‘All of those,’ Thorin confirmed. ‘And more, much more. Wait until you see it for yourself.’

She nodded, remembering just a second too late that Thorin of course could not see that. ‘I will,’ she said. And she was curious. The Lonely Mountain truly must be something of a wonder to behold to have one of the most taciturn men in the world almost bursting into song at the very mention of it. ‘Let’s just hope the dragon didn’t leave the place in complete disarray, shall we?’ She tried to go for a lighter tone. ‘For one reason or another I don’t think he’s the type to do much housekeeping duties.’

The mental picture of a dragon scrubbing the floors of Erebor with a cloth and bucket and the optional apron tied in front of him did the trick of snapping Thorin out of whatever wistful mood he had been sliding into. The deep chuckle was back now. ‘At least he would not have much trouble with getting the fire in the hearths going,’ he commented dryly, almost sending Kate into fits of very girly giggles that would surely wake everyone in the camp if she allowed them to cross her lips.

Thorin had a very dry sense of humour from time to time, mostly when she least expected it. The first time she remembered him doing it was when they were in the middle of a rescue mission, trying to distract the trolls so that their companions could get away. She didn’t quite recall how it happened, but Thorin had startled her and she had snapped at him that he had almost scared her to death, to which Thorin casually remarked that such an event would surely save the trolls the trouble.

‘Cooking should not present much of a problem either,’ she chimed in, going with the completely ridiculous things they were currently thinking up. ‘Though he probably should take care not to burn his food.’ It was only when no laughter was forthcoming that she realised what a dragon liked to eat for supper and that it was quite likely that he had consumed many of the dwarves of Erebor in such a fashion the day he took the Lonely Mountain. Her joke suddenly wasn’t funny at all, especially when she realised that Thorin’s own mother had died that day. ‘Oh, Thorin, I’m sorry!’ she blurted out, feeling like banging her head against a wall for having been so downright stupid. ‘That was tactless of me. I didn’t think. Really, I did not mean it.’

Ugh, why was her mouth always faster than her brain? How could she have been so stupid as to forget the crimes Smaug had committed that day? She had known he had destroyed an entire town, that he had killed countless men and dwarves alike on the day the Mountain was taken and Dale was turned to ash. It was the very reason why they were on this quest in the first place, but of course she had to try to be funny and forget all about what had happened before, probably re-opening old wounds. She had seen the grief in Thorin’s eyes when he had spoken about his mother. She really ought to have known better.

The silence remained. ‘Thorin?’ Oh, dear, she had really done it this time, hadn’t she? Had she said this at the beginning of the journey, she could probably not have cared less about Thorin’s feelings regarding this subject, but they were friends now and friends didn’t do things like this, didn’t say things like this. It just wasn’t done. ‘Thorin, I didn’t mean it!’ she hissed at him, angry because he had not at all given her an answer, had not even acknowledged her apology. ‘Oh, come on, don’t give me the cold shoulder, will you?’

She was a little surprised when she suddenly felt his hand grab her wrist. ‘Silent, woman,’ came the hissed reply. Yes, he was definitely mad at her. _Well done, girl, very well done indeed._

‘I told you…’ The rest of her reply was muffled by Thorin’s other hand that clasped over her mouth with such accuracy as if he had been able to see it. What the hell was he doing?

‘Silence,’ he repeated, hushed this time. He must have moved closer somehow, because she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke.

She had no idea what was going on, but this was getting a little too intimate and threatening for her liking. He had both his hands on her and was probably whole lot closer than was considered appropriate. Dori would freak out if he saw it and this time Kate could not help but agree. There was something threatening about this treatment, even more so because it was dark and she still couldn’t see a single thing, so that she had to rely on her other senses.

She took a deep breath through her nose, which wasn’t exactly easy since Thorin’s large hand had the annoying tendency to cover her nose as well, and then bit down on his hand, hard. The dwarf king let go instantly. She thought it was more of shock than of pain, since he seemed to be capable to keep running even with cracked ribs, but she had the surprise on her side this time.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she hissed as softly as she could, hoping that this would stop him from blocking her air supply all over again. ‘Let me go, you big oaf. Dori’s going to have your head for this if he finds out.’ Not that her brother was about to find out, because he was still snoring the night away, but it was the idea that counted, wasn’t it?

‘Quiet,’ the king growled. This was definitely a command, not a question and she obeyed almost on instinct. There was some wariness in Thorin’s voice and she didn’t think it was directed at her. Something in their environment must have triggered this behaviour. And that notion made her give up on her resistance right away. It meant that something was wrong, very wrong, or he would have taken the time to ask her nicely. ‘Don’t you hear?’ he asked, softer this time, so soft she could hardly make out the words.

‘Hear what?’ she whispered.

‘Listen,’ he ordered.

She did. And at first there was nothing, nothing at all. There were the usual sounds of Mirkwood. They were disturbing in and out of themselves, but she had learned to ignore them. It was either that or lose her sanity to complete paranoia and she was not ready for that.

But there was something else as well. There was talking, talking in a tongue she could not understand. At first she stupidly believed that the elves must have found them after all, only to realise that elves didn’t grumble like that, nor would they speak a language such as the one they were hearing now. And that left only one frightening possibility. Orcs.

 

***

 

The dark was unnerving. He would never admit this when called on, but it was. It was like he had said to Kate, the deep halls of Erebor were so different from the threatening dark of Mirkwood and Goblin-town, not to mention the fact that Erebor was usually bathed in the light of torches. Dwarves could see reasonably well in the dark, but even his race needed some source of light, no matter how small, to see by. And there was no such source of light in this cursed forest.

But the talking helped, helped him to distract his thoughts from the seemingly endless night of Mirkwood, not that he would soon be heard to say that within anyone’s hearing range. It helped him to relax and the relaxing helped him in falling off to sleep. And Mahal knew he needed his rest. Dwarves could handle much, but even they were affected by long marches, too little food and too little rest. The burglar seemed to handle it all rather well, even if he too did grumble about the lack of six or seven meals a day – or however many times a hobbit usually had a meal – and the long marches. For someone who was apparently used to go everywhere he went on foot, he was handling this rather badly.

The advisor wasn’t at ease here either, but she managed so far. Thorin knew that her feet were sometimes aching, not because she said so, but because he could see it in the way she moved. But so far she had not been heard to utter one single complaint. It was as if she had decided now that she was truly part of the quest she had no longer a right to voice her problems. It didn’t stop the company from noticing them anyway. Dori and Kíli – who had been remarking how skinny Kate was every other day since the beginning of the quest, getting on Kate’s nerves a lot with that – had been seen to feed her from her own rations. Kate of course was not blind either and would slip it back to its rightful owners if she got as much as half a chance and if she didn’t get a chance, it was deposited with either Ori or Bombur. It was an interesting redistribution of food and even more so because Kate and Thorin appeared to be the only ones to be fully aware of it.

He suspected that she had done it again last night, because the only sound coming from Bombur at the moment was his snoring and not the loud protests of his stomach. The forest was silent, or as silent as it ever would be, and that suited Thorin just fine. He had first watch with the advisor and for some reason they had ended up joking about Smaug’s lack of skills in running a household. It was almost impossible for him to think of how they had ended up at a certain point of conversation in hindsight, but he found he enjoyed this. It also had the added bonus that imagining the dragon slaving away to make the Mountain clean distracted him from a whole bunch of problems that would demand his attention as soon as it would be light again.

‘At least he would not have much trouble with getting the fire in the hearths going,’ he remarked. No, breathing fire was one thing that did come easy to the fire drake.

To his right he could hear Kate trying and failing to stifle her laughter. But she was not the only one making a sound. Somewhere off in the distance he could hear other voices too. Or at least he thought it were voices. They were far away, hardly audible at all. It could just be the sound of animals in the forest, but for some reason that did not sound at all like a reasonable explanation.

‘Cooking should not present much of a problem either, though he probably should take care not to burn his food,’ Kate quipped. She obviously hadn’t heard anything at all or she would have held her tongue.

And the joke was hardly funny at all. Thorin would not have laughed at it in normal circumstances. He might even have snapped at her, given her a tongue-lashing that she would not forget in a hurry for not remembering that a lot of Thorin’s people had died in Smaug’s terrible fire. As it was, it hardly registered in his mind now.

He strained his ears, trying to hear anything, blocking out Kate’s instant apologies as she realised what it was that she had actually said. Well, it was good to know that she had come to see that her actions just now had not been what she would call a smart move, but it was not his main priority at the moment. It was much more important to find out if they had indeed been found out. He hoped not, of course he hoped not. They had lasted for more than a week in here without being discovered and part of him had started to hope that they would pass unnoticed by anyone. That hope was about to be stamped into the ground.

‘ _Nothing but stinking squirrel for five days_!’ a voice complained rather loudly. ‘ _How often do we need to tell the commander that there isn’t any decent meat in here?_ ’

Thorin’s heart stopped, or at least it was in danger of stopping when he realised that it was the orcs’ language he was hearing. He had suspected that there may be elves coming their way – it was their forest after all – but this changed things. Yes, he had known that there were orcs travelling the Men-i-Naugrim as well, but all the tracks they had found so far had pointed east and it was obvious that they were travelling faster than the company, because every paw print they found was a little older than the one they had found before. He had honestly come to believe that whatever party was taking this road had business in the east, and was not truly searching for them at all.

But this party – consisting of at least two orcs, taken into account that the talking one was complaining to someone – was probably not hunting for them either. By the sounds of it this was a small hunting party, tasked with providing meat for a larger unit. Thorin had dealt with enough of that foul race to know a little of how they functioned. But to them dwarf would still make for a nice bit of meat and the dwarf king was not at all planning on being turned into an orc’s dinner, not at all.

Kate was still apologising and if she went on like that, she would certainly alert the approaching orcs to their presence. ‘Silence, woman!’ he hissed impatiently. Had she truly not heard?

The advisor was trying once again to make herself heard, ignoring his command entirely, forcing him to repeat it, to absolutely no avail. He had already taken her wrist in one hand to get her attention, but now he found himself forced to clasp his other hand over her mouth to force her to shut up. Ten to one she did not like it and sent him a glare that he fortunately could not see right now, but her mood was of no importance to him.

He was about to explain to her what was going on when she distracted him and sunk her teeth into the hand he still held over her mouth. He cursed under his breath and moved the hand away. It didn’t really hurt much, but it was a rather stinging sensation and a little unpleasant.

And she was furious, no doubt about that. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she hissed. She sounded a little like an angry snake when she spoke like that. ‘Let me go, you big oaf! Dori’s going to have your head for this if he finds out.’

He wanted to snap at her to sort out her priorities, but that would doubtlessly land them in an argument they could really do without right now. Instead he ordered her to listen. At first she did not seem willing to obey, too furious about what she certainly thought of as his unfair treatment, but eventually she went still and quiet and she listened.

‘ _Well, if you hadn’t been so stupid as to scare off that deer we saw yesterday, we would have had meat now!_ ’ another voice snapped. ‘ _And then we would have been long back to the group by now, so don’t you dare start blaming me!_ ’

‘ _You’re blaming me then?_ ’ the first voice demanded, full of righteous indignity.

Kate had gone rigid beside him. He could feel it since he still had her arm within his grasp. Thorin could feel her pulse underneath his hand and it had sped up the moment she realised what was going on. Even if she could not understand the language the orcs were using, she still understood that they were coming their direction and they could not see a thing, nothing at all.

‘Wake the others,’ he told her. ‘Do it now.’

This command snapped them both out of the shock. Kate turned to Dori to shake him awake and Thorin turned left to wake Fíli. It was a system they had worked out after the first night. They could not make any light and shouting was not advisable either, so they needed a system which allowed them to wake quickly and quietly in case of an emergency. So now they slept in a circle and if there was danger they would each wake the person next to them until everyone was awake.

And it helped to have a routine, some sort of plan, even if it wasn’t much of a plan. It still was something to fall back on and hopefully the orcs had not yet heard them. So far they had been rather quiet and the orcs were still busy trying to attach the blame for the failed hunt to one another, which gave them the opportunity to wake. Their enemies weren’t moving fast, Thorin could tell. He didn’t know if they were on foot or riding a warg yet, but either way they would not be able to move too fast in this darkness, lest they collided with one of the many trees or low branches. That might just give them what they needed to get ready for an attack.

‘Orcs,’ Dwalin’s voice spat somewhere on the other side of the circle, summarising the problem rather effectively.

‘Possibly two, not certain about the presence of wargs.’ Thorin quickly filled in the rest of the blanks. ‘Get to the side of the road, take all the packs with you. Do not stray into the forest, whatever you do.’ He felt like he was echoing Gandalf and Beorn at the moment, but that hardly mattered now. What mattered was that they needed to come out of this adventure alive. ‘Go, do it now!’ he urged them.

He got up, grabbed his belongings with one hand and Kate with the other, after which he dragged both to the edge of the forest. He had forced himself to remember where that was, so he could easily guide them there now. Close by he could hear his companions do the same.

It was easy to tell when they had reached the side of the road. It was partially overgrown with plants that Thorin did not really want to know about what they were and it was easy to trip over them and land face first in the nearby bushes. He knew that if he really wanted to escape the orcs’ notion, they should move away from the road entirely, but Gandalf’s warning never to leave the path was too present in his mind to ignore. The wizard had given that warning for a reason and he also remembered what had happened in Kate’s book when the company had left the relative safety of the path. He could not risk that.

‘Duck,’ he ordered the advisor, but several others who had chosen to wait it out on this side of the road did the same. Thorin followed his own advice and knelt down between Kate and someone else. In the dark it was impossible for them to determine who was where. If they did not talk one did not know who it even was that was sitting not half a metre away.

‘Next time find a better way to shut me up, will you?’ Kate hissed. She was angry, but quite possibly mostly scared if his experience with her was anything to go by. It was her way to try and think about other things rather than the dangerous matter at hand.

‘Next time I will just let you go ahead and let you alert every orc in Mirkwood to our presence,’ he shot back, finding himself unable to let it go, in spite of the fact that there were still orcs approaching and both of them should be keeping quiet. ‘Be silent now, woman.’

He didn’t need to hear her reply to feel the indignity radiating off her at being called woman, what she seemed to take as an insult, and although it wasn’t exactly as bad as that, it wasn’t a compliment either, so maybe she did have some point with it.

But it didn’t matter now. What did matter was the orcs that came closer. It was hard to see anything in this wretched darkness, but when the light of torches found its way to where they were hiding, it was hard to miss. Thorin’s eyes weren’t used to light so bright and strong as that, not after more than a week in this damp forest without a fire and his first reaction was to blink until he was used to it. But he needed to be alert now and that would not do any of them any good.

The lights were dancing in a way that suggested they were carried by people who were sitting on a warg. They were at approximately the right height for that as well. And this was bad news. If it had been only orcs then they might have just passed them by, but with wargs it was another matter entirely. They would smell them out no matter what.

Their only luck was that there only seemed to be just the two orcs and their wargs and they were a company of fifteen. They had the upper hand and hopefully the element of surprise if they acted quickly. It would be difficult with so little light to go on, but not impossible. They had been given bows and arrows by Beorn, even if only half of them would be able to use them. Thorin knew that Dori and Fíli were what Kate called an absolute walking disaster zone when given a bow and the same could be said about at least six or seven others.

He nudged the person next to him. ‘Yes?’ He was in luck today. It was Kíli who responded.

‘There are two wargs, two orcs,’ he reported, although it was likely that his youngest sister-son had already worked that out for himself. ‘Shoot the wargs first.’

‘Aye,’ was the simple reply. The lad may be young still, but he was good with the bow and he would see to it that no warg would come any closer than necessary. Thorin would readily admit that he had had his doubts about taking both Fíli and Kíli with him, but they had proven themselves many times over already. He knew he could rely on them. If only they weren’t so prone to jump into the danger headfirst from time to time. The dwarf was quite sure some of his grey hairs were the direct consequence of their youthful enthusiasm.

The orcs were closer now and Thorin could see them by the light of their torches. One of them was rather large and he was obviously the one in charge, as seemed to be the way of the orcs. The other was smaller and he was the one who was still whining about the lack of decent food, that was not readily available in this forest, as any member of the company could tell them. They were a long way from Mr Baggins’s pantry.

The wargs they were riding were both grey and just as ugly as their riders. The biggest one, the mount of the largest orc, had its nose almost pressed to the ground. It would not be long now before it would be able to pick up their scent; they were nearing the campsite that was entirely abandoned now, but everyone with eyes in their head could see that a large group had camped here not that long ago, even without the smell of dwarf all over the place.

Thorin let go of Kate’s arm and gripped his sword with both hands, ready to storm out and attack these intruders at a moment’s notice. He would have told Kate to stay where she was, had he not thought he would give away their location by speaking out loud. Hopefully she would be sensible enough to get the message without someone needing to spell it out to her.

The largest warg stopped and started growling, effectively distracting the orcs from their discussion. ‘ _What’s going on?_ ’ the smallest orc asked, sounding a little annoyed. ‘ _Hungry again, stupid beast?_ ’

‘Kíli, now!’ Thorin hissed.

Kíli’s arrow hit the largest warg right in the eye, felling it before it had even the chance to stir up any more trouble. Its rider was thrown over its neck and onto the forest floor, landing with a loud groan. Kíli had an arrow in the other warg’s neck before that beast even got the chance to react. By the light of the torches Thorin could see the archer vaguely, just enough to make out the complete concentration and determination with which he fired those arrows. This was no longer a child that knew nothing of the world, as Thorin had accused him of several months ago. He had grown up, all the younger members of the company had, and for some reason it made him feel sad, like he had lost something extremely valuable.

But this was not the time to ponder such things. They were still in danger. One of the wargs was dead, the other probably close to following. It was howling in agony and anger, thrashing wildly to get away from the pain the arrow caused. Kíli quickly fired another arrow and this one hit the beast in the eye, cutting off the loud howling rather abruptly.

This only left the two orcs and that they could deal with. The smallest was still struggling to his feet, but the other was already moving, ready to attack, and Thorin was not going to wait for him to assault them. This time the fight would go on their terms.

He practically launched himself out of the bushes and onto the middle of the road again, Orcrist drawn. He left his shield with Kate so that he could have both hands available to swing the sword around. He could hear some of his other companions moving now as well, but the voices sounded as if they came from a distance. Maybe it was because they were not important.

The only thing that truly mattered now was that he put an end to these monsters before they could run back to whatever master they served to report a group of dwarves moving over the Men-i-Naugrim. That was a risk they could not take and it was that exact thought that kept Thorin going. He had failed to protect his men so far, had always needed the help of others to get them out of a tight spot again, but not anymore. He could do this, had to do this, if only to prove to himself that he was worthy to be even called the leader of this company.

Dwalin was at his right, Balin at his left, the way he liked it. Fíli and Kíli were not far behind. The big orc did not laugh as Azog had done, but he was not afraid of them either. Nevertheless his attempts to defend himself against an entire company of dwarves proved rather fruitless. It didn’t take them long to get the monster down and somehow it felt like a relief to the dwarf king to know that he had been the one to deal the killing blow.

‘It was a hunting party,’ Thorin explained to his men. He was quite sure Balin understood the language as well and the same was true for Dwalin, although to a lesser extent, but the rest must be fearing that they were Azog’s scouts or something worse.

The orcs had dropped the torches, but they had remained alight, bathing the road and its occupants in a rather spooky light. Along with the three corpses on the floor it made for an altogether grim scene.

It was only then that Thorin and most of the others realised they were a corpse short. The smallest orc had gotten away.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _How in Durin’s name have we been able to miss that one?_


	38. Counselling

_I think it’s quite needless to say that there was quite a lot of tumult when we realised that we were missing an orc. I had been hiding in the bushes as Thorin clearly wanted me to – these days he didn’t even need to say it for me to know – and had seen nothing. But the gist of the story is that all of the dwarves were far too focused on the biggest threat so that they had forgotten all about the smallest orc, everyone thinking that someone else was taking care of that while they were too busy to try and get the glory for the biggest kill. Very childish behaviour, come to think of it._

_In hindsight I can laugh about the absolute stupidity of my companions and maybe it is comical to see how stupid a bunch of adults can change into a group of yelling kids all trying to get to the most important orc. Admittedly, it was rather ridiculous, but it’s always after the event has taken place and after everyone is out of danger that one can appreciate the complete absurdity of the situation._

_Needless to say that Thorin was not amused. In the chaos of the fight no one had seen when the orc had slipped away or in which direction he had fled. He could have run into the forest for all we knew, but there was no telling it for certain. He could be anywhere and that displeased a certain king, a lot._

_Dwalin volunteered immediately to go and look for him, but Thorin forbade him from going. In this dark and with the torch, something he would have to take with him if he had no ambition to get lost, he would make for an easy target. Besides, we could always hope that the orc had lost sight of the path and had strayed into the forest itself. And it was quite certain that if this happened, he would never come out again, effectively ending the danger, since he had no one to tell his secret to._

_However, the option of the orc getting back to the main unit remained and if that was the case, then the risk of discovery was a lot higher than it had been before our unfortunate encounter with the orcs and their overgrown dogs. And there was not one single person in the company who was not uncomfortably aware of that particular possibility…_

 

It was a grim and somewhat frightening scene that had met Kate’s eyes when she had crawled out of the bushes. The corpses of the wargs and the biggest orc were sprawled on the road, lying where they had fallen. It didn’t make for a pleasant sight. The wargs had arrows sticking out of their bodies and the orc had almost been literally hacked to pieces. Both Thorin’s and Dwalin’s blades were black with the monster’s blood. They had been the ones to do most of the killing.

Thorin looked dangerous, she decided. It wasn’t because of the bloodied sword in his hands, but because of the wild and terrifying look in his eyes. Kate had heard Bofur explain that one of the orcs had gotten away and that was angering his king. Kate could hardly blame him for feeling this way. If that orc went back to whoever it was that he was serving, he could bring countless more enemies down on them and that was hardly a tempting prospect.  Dwalin had already thrown in the notion of hunting the runaway orc, but Thorin had instantly slapped it down. Kate understood his reasoning, but it didn’t make her like the idea of one of those monsters out there any better. Still, it was the most sensible thing to do. Thorin was the kind of person who would not risk a single one of his men on a fool’s errand.

‘Clear the road,’ he ordered. The tone was snappish, but Kate had some experience with his behaviour in these situations. It was tension that made him come across as short-tempered as he did.

The advisor assumed that this meant that she too needed to lend them a hand. Fighting was one thing, but dragging corpses off a road was quite another. That wasn’t dangerous, so she wouldn’t be excluded from it, even if she really wanted nothing better than to stay away from the dead bodies. She knew they could not harm her, but they looked disgusting, covered in blood and she had no ambition to throw up because of the sight.

 _Stop being such a baby_ , she told herself firmly. _You’re not at home anymore and around here girls don’t get to squeal and faint at the sight of blood. Get a grip, Andrews._

Her mental scolding did nothing to lessen the feeling of needing to go and vomit anytime soon, but it helped her in putting herself together and help Dwalin, Dori and Bofur in trying to push the biggest warg into the bushes, where it could rot away for all Kate cared. The monstrous beast was rather large and it took the four of them a great deal of strength to push it to where they wanted it. If she was really honest, most of the work was of course done by her companions, since she had not much to contribute in terms of physical strength. But at least it gave her the feeling that she was doing something useful, something other than standing aside and watching while her friends did all the work.

‘Good riddance,’ Dwalin commented grimly when the warg at long last was more or less out of sight. The road was a little higher than its surroundings and the corpse rolled down the slope, swallowed up by the darkness that still ruled this forest outside the circle of light the orcs’ torches caused.

Kate nodded, trying to catch her breath. She was not in a hurry to put her weakness on display for all to see, but shoving the warg out of the way had required a good deal of strength, strength that she did not possess. ‘Indeed,’ she agreed. Because it was a good thing that they had gotten rid of the monsters and the orc, even if it was all too likely that they would soon find themselves confronted with a lot more of that foul breed. Now that was something that made her actually want to throw up where she stood.

‘Get some rest, lass.’ To her surprise it was Dwalin and not Dori who ordered it. She had expected her brother to fuss over her till he dropped, but Dwalin wasn’t prone to fussing. He just didn’t do that. And thank goodness for that.

‘I’m fine.’ The reply was automatic, if not entirely truthful. But that was need to know information anyway. ‘We have more important things to concern ourselves with now.’

She saw Dwalin exchange a look with Dori. Before she could even begin to figure out what that was all about, the warrior’s hand had clasped her shoulder and he began to march her to the middle of the road. She struggled almost out of reflex.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, trying to wriggle free, with absolutely no results at all. Dwalin was a lot stronger than she was, a whole lot stronger.

And he definitely didn’t take the trouble to answer, pushing her in between Balin and himself. The first had been talking to Thorin about something, but he quit his talking in favour of nodding at her. ‘Good to see you, Kate,’ he said.

She wasn’t angry with the kind elderly dwarf, but she wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. ‘I would have been better had I not been manhandled here,’ she remarked a bit sourly. ‘What am I doing here?’

She glanced around the circle. Thorin was here, as were Balin and Dwalin, who were his closest friends and advisors. Had she not been here, she might have said this was some kind of war council going on. These three were the ones who made the decisions in this company and she could make a fairly educated guess about what kind of decisions needed to be made. But this matter had nothing to do with her book, so she had absolutely no business being here. And besides, if Thorin did want to bring the book into the discussion, then he could use his own brain. He had seemed to be in the possession of one when last she checked.

‘Ah, well, we need to decide what to do,’ Balin replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him. Maybe it was. The oldest son of Fundin had always been rather accepting her presence in the company and lately she suspected him of trying to get her closer to his king as well. But that behaviour was starting to be customary in this company rather than an exception.

‘I’m sure you don’t need my input for that,’ she pointed out.

Thorin’s eyes were filled with cold fire. ‘We do.’ It was almost as if he was angry that she was trying to back out of this and Kate could not for the life of her figure out why. And that was leaving the fact that he had just admitted to them needing her input on this matter out of consideration. Had Thorin lost his mind?

It was only then that she remembered she had made an oath to advise him. She was probably duty-bound to assist in this matter, no matter how ill-suited she believed herself to be. And ten to one that was why Thorin was so angry about her refusal to be of any assistance. He was particularly touchy when it came to matters such as loyalty and the keeping of oaths. And taken into account that she had been about to break an oath, she could hardly blame him for almost flying off the handle. And there was going to be some kind of conversation coming from this later, she could be sure of that.

She shrugged, tried to make it appear as if it did not matter much. ‘Fine,’ she gave in. ‘Have it your way. What would it be you want my help with?’

Thorin sent her a wry look and then looked away, obviously with every intention of ignoring her, making Kate wonder why he wanted her here in the first place. This crisis seemed to have reversed every change in their working relationship. He was tense and on edge. He clearly did not have any time for jests and she had been about to break her vow. That made him a very difficult person to deal with right now and Kate decided not to push the matter any further. She didn’t want him to snap.

Fortunately Balin decided to step in before things could get any worse than they already were. ‘We must decide what to do now,’ he announced. It was rather unnecessary to say, because Kate had more or less worked that out for herself already, but it did make them all turn to the matter at hand.

‘Are there more orcs ahead?’ Kate inquired. The orcs had been talking, but she hadn’t understood a word of what they had said. But she knew that the leader of this company understood the orcs’ tongue, as one of the few in the company.

Thorin gave a curt confirmative nod. ‘Aye. They spoke of a main unit further down the road,’ he replied, still pointedly ignoring her gaze. Of dear, someone was mad at her and he was determined to show her. She decided to blame his grumpy behaviour on the current crisis. None of them were on their best behaviour right now. She could hardly blame him for not being so either. ‘They did not say how many or where precisely they were. These two were only a hunting party.’

‘Not scouts?’ Dwalin checked. The warrior was obviously dying to chase the remaining orc, but Thorin’s explicit order held him back.

‘No scouts,’ Thorin confirmed.

Well, that was a relief. ‘At least that means that they’re not actively searching for us, right?’ the advisor asked. ‘They do not know we are here.’ At least for now they were safe. It was highly unlikely there would be an army bearing down on them anytime soon. It gave them a bit of breathing space, even when it was eventually only delaying the inevitable.

‘Yet,’ Balin added. ‘They will soon enough if that orc runs straight back to where he came from. They will hunt us before long.’

Dwalin and Thorin nodded in agreement. ‘Our options are limited.’ Thorin’s stare was pensive. He was staring off into the distance and Kate would bet that he did not see a single thing. She had seen him like this before. It was similar to what she herself tended to do when confronted with a problem. Her mind raced ahead, weighing the possibilities and the risks, coming to a conclusion before anyone had even said a thing. Thorin was a lot like her in that particular regard.

‘Three options as far as I can see.’ The words had left her mouth before she had even given herself permission to do so. In the short silence her mind had been working overtime as well.

Apparently that was not something that was expected of her here though, despite the fact that she was here to advise. Good grief, Dwalin had even practically dragged her to this little council. But now the warrior was sending her an incredulous look and Balin too seemed to be surprised as well.

As it was Thorin was the only one who seemed to unsurprised. He nodded thoughtfully. ‘I agree our options are limited, but we have some. Four, I’d say.’ Whatever foul mood he had been sliding into, the debate had snapped him out of it. It reminded Kate of when they were planning strategy based on her book.

And that was something she could deal with. It was very much like a brainstorm session with her colleagues and it came as easily as breathing to her. ‘Hide in the forest in the hopes the orcs will not dare enter it?’ she asked in a dismissive voice. ‘Then it’s most likely that we will never even see the light of the sun again. That’s not an option, that’s suicide.’

A little too late she realised that this had not been the wisest course of action. Thorin was already edgy and she had just told him one of his plans was completely ridiculous. He never took well to her dismissing his plans as rubbish, and she had not only done that, she had also done it in front of his two closest friends. He was not going to take well to that, she could tell from experience.

And he didn’t. The look he sent her should have killed her instantly if looks had such power. But it didn’t get any further than that. Fortunately he too seemed to have realised that they had nothing to gain and everything to lose from bickering amongst themselves. ‘I did not consider that as a real option, Kate,’ he informed her icily. The tone of voice had made her anticipate the return of the dreaded Miss Andrews, but he stuck to her first name. It wasn’t that bad, yet. ‘But we do need to consider it.’

 _We have considered it and dismissed it_. The thought was dying to come out, but she had possibly vexed him enough for one day. There was no need to irritate him even further. She did value her life after all. Instead she settled for a nod. ‘I understand.’ She didn’t, but it would keep him happy. And she was all too aware that this was not a private session. They did have an audience this time.

‘What other options do we have, laddie?’ This time it was Balin who spoke. From the way he was talking Kate guessed he had been about to suggest the option Thorin and she both had just disapproved of.

‘We can turn back, stay or press on.’ Once again her mouth was faster than her brain and the words came rolling from her lips unchecked even before she realised she had not been the one that had been addressed just now, making her want to bang her head against a wall for being so bloody stupid.

Thorin however nodded. He sent her a stern look to go with it, but he did not verbally reprimand her. Clearly the current crisis took precedence now, but the advisor had no doubt she would be scolded for her actions later. It was almost inevitable. ‘Those are indeed our only options,’ he agreed in that cold and formal voice of his. He tended to slip into that mode whenever he was confronted with something that unsettled him, making Kate wonder if she or the orcs were the culprits for this behaviour this time. She decided she did not want to know.

Instead she weighed the possibilities. They would have nothing to gain from remaining where they were now, in her opinion. It felt like they were lambs waiting to be slaughtered and every fibre of her being rebelled against the thought of sitting back and waiting while their end drew nearer. She may not be that much of a fighter, but she’d rather die doing something, _anything_ , even if she was doomed to fail. And sitting here, waiting for something to happen, well, that felt like they had already fought and lost. And that was something she was not quite ready to accept just yet. Her intention of getting home alive and in one piece still stood and sitting here, waiting for orcs to come and slaughter them, might just interfere with that goal.

The second option was turning back. And that too was something that felt like defeat to her. Running away from their enemies like they were cowards on the run. Besides, she didn’t like the thought of showing their enemy their backs very much, because that meant they could not see them coming when the time came. And come they would, because they had wargs and those monsters moved a whole lot faster than dwarves, a hobbit and a woman.

And they had come so far already. Thorin had said he had believed them to be halfway through these dreaded woods. Turning back now and making for the northern route would cost them time and the time was passing rapidly. Already the nights were getting chilly again and Durin’s Day was drawing ever closer. If they turned back now, there was every chance that they would not make it to the Mountain by the estimated time and then they would have to wait a whole year before they could try and enter Erebor again. If she knew Thorin at all, he would not be prepared to risk his quest now. Ever since the dwarf had seen his kingdom from the back of the eagle, it was as if someone had lit a fire inside him. He could not turn back now, even if he wanted, and Kate knew for a fact that he did not want such a thing at all.

And that left them with the one other choice: pressing on, meeting the orcs head on. That was probably no less a suicide mission than hiding in the woods, but, come to think of it, their survival chances were not very good whichever direction they went. The thought of literally marching toward their doom was not a very encouraging one, and it made Kate want to tremble and scream in fear, but that would not do her any good. This was something she would have to face, like it or not. She thought that she had known that from the moment she had first realised one of the orcs had gotten away, maybe even before that. And she had decided that she rather met her enemy head on than to run or wait. When it came down to it, there did not seem to be a choice at all.

One look at Thorin and she could see he concurred. They had more of these moments over the last few weeks, starting from their stay in Beorn’s house, the moment he had read the book and had accepted its contents. Sometimes all it took was one look. They were in agreement over this one.

But perhaps it would be best to let him be the one to deliver the news to the other two. Kate had almost forgotten about them again, but since they did not make much of a contribution to the council, maybe that was understandable. Both sons of Fundin were struck dumb by something and were now watching king and advisor with a disbelieving look in their eyes.

Kate frowned, wondering what on earth had brought that on, only to realise that the way she interacted with Thorin was probably sufficient to make eyebrows get stuck halfway their foreheads. She knew Thorin and Dwalin were friends, and the king trusted Balin’s judgement almost more than his own, but neither of them treated Thorin as Kate did. For all she knew this was entirely inappropriate.

She was just about ready to bang her head against the nearest tree for not thinking of this before she effectively managed to talk herself into trouble again, when Thorin interrupted her thoughts. ‘We press on,’ he announced.

Balin seemed doubtful. ‘Thorin, we’ll be walking into a trap.’ He wasn’t outright questioning his king’s decision, but he made it clear it didn’t make him do a happy dance around the camp either.

‘But they won’t expect us.’ Dwalin’s eyes, although still looking at her incredulously, were gleaming, catching on to the plan. ‘They’d expect us to run. If they find us close by, they will be surprised.’ He nodded thoughtfully, or as thoughtfully as Dwalin could get. ‘It gives us an advantage.’

This was the strategist talking. Kate made a mental note never ever to underestimate the taciturn dwarf again. He may not say much, but he was very intelligent and knew what he was doing. And he had years and years of war experience to work with. If anyone knew how to deal with a small army of orcs, it would be him. And by the looks of things he, unlike his brother, approved of the plan, suicidal though it may be. In hindsight Kate should have expected it. It was just like him to want to go down fighting.

‘Could we do it?’ she asked. ‘Make use of such an advantage, I mean?’ _Do we stand a chance?_ That was what she wanted to ask, but she could bite it back just in time. It would make her sound like even more of a coward than Dwalin already thought her to be and she could do without that.

He understood it all the same, but her desperate and frightened plea for reassurance wasn’t met with the angry scowl she’d expected. ‘We can,’ he said with a curt, but not unsympathetic nod of the head.

‘We’ll move out at first light,’ Thorin decided, loud enough for everyone else to hear as well. ‘Bombur, Fíli, stand watch. The rest, try to rest while you can.’

It was the most sensible decision in the given circumstances. The orcs were unlikely to attack tonight and they would all need their rest. It didn’t feel like a very good plan, because some irrational voice in the back of her head taunted her with the idea of orcs sneaking up on her and slicing her throat while she was resting, even when that was by no means a realistic prospect.

So she nodded her consent and made to retrieve her bag and bedroll from where she had deposited them when she had gone to help the others to push the warg off the road. Balin and Thorin were turning away as well to do the same with their belongings. She supposed that they would make camp on the middle of the road again, if a little distance away from the place where the fighting had happened. No one wanted to sleep with corpses too close to them. It just felt wrong.

Kate however had not even made two steps when she felt her upper arm being grasped in a death grip. She only knew one person alive who did such a thing and so she turned. ‘Thorin, you really ought to stop doing that! One of these days you’ll…’ She stopped dead in her tracks however when she realised it was not the dwarf king she was talking to. ‘Dwalin?’ She tried and failed to keep the confusion out of her voice. ‘Is anything the matter?’ She had absolutely no idea what he wanted with her.

The warrior’s eyes were serious. ‘I may not like you,’ he said bluntly. This was not boding very well and Kate unconsciously held her breath, mentally bracing herself for what was to come. ‘But you’re good for him. And I cannot blame you for that.’

This did not make any sense at all and Kate found herself staring at him. ‘I’m sorry?’ What on earth did he mean?

Dwalin did not seem to notice her confusion or if he did he chose to ignore it. ‘Just make sure you do right by him,’ he told her, making it sound like a threat, which it probably was. He let her go then, leaving her in the middle of the road, letting her wonder what in heaven’s name had just happened.

 

***

 

When dawn came, it came like a gift from Mahal himself. The remainder of the night had passed very much like the one they had spent on the borders of Mirkwood. Everyone but the watchers pretended to sleep, but there was an absence of snoring that told Thorin everything he needed to know. He himself had not been able to sleep. He knew he should; he couldn’t keep going on too little rest indefinitely. But his mind was troubled and in the dark of night every sound in the forest was an approaching orc army.

Kate had slept close to him, as they had gotten used to over the last week. Thorin knew it worsened the gossip that was already going round, but under the given circumstances everyone kept close together for safety. Although, admittedly it would be better – not in the least for Dori’s peace of mind – if she were to camp with her brothers. He had asked her about that, teased her about it more like, and the advisor had demanded of him if he had ever tried to sleep sandwiched between Dori and Nori, both of them snoring like circular saws, whatever those were supposed to be. He had let the matter go then. He did not really mind her company. If he was really honest he even found himself seeking it out from time to time.

The advisor had spent the rest of the night curled up under her cloak next to him. Thorin had felt the urge to pull her head into his lap again, but had refrained from it when he realised he had set out watchers, who could see everything he did by the light of the torches. It wasn’t that he believed that there would be much talk with everything that was going on right now, but he wasn’t going to push his luck. If last night had taught him something, then it was that luck seemed to be in very short supply right now.

His worst fears had come true. He had known there was a distinct possibility of them coming true and yet it had shaken him worse than he was willing to admit. He would stand by what he had decided: they would not turn back. But he feared the road ahead. He feared what would become of his company when they would be confronted with an army of orcs. That he did not know how many of them there were only served to make things worse. If he knew what to expect, then he could anticipate it. Right now he knew nothing: nothing of their number, their leader or their whereabouts. The not knowing was a torture in and out of itself.

He did not fear for himself. If he was really honest, he had never done that. Between the sons of Fundin and possibly the company advisor as well that was done more than enough already. He had long ago accepted that this quest may claim his life and if his life was the price that needed to be paid to reclaim the Mountain, then it was a price well worth paying.

He was just not prepared to let anyone else pay it for him and with orcs ahead of them that was a risk he had never been prepared to take. But there wasn’t a choice in the matter. Turning back was no option, and it would probably do them no good either way, and staying where they were would in the end only serve to make the orcs’ job easier. He had not had a choice in anything since this quest had begun and now was no different from those times.

But Mahal knew he longed for a choice in this matter, anything that would save him the need of having to lead the men he had under his protection straight into the waiting arms of bloodthirsty orcs, anything that would not require him leading his men to what could be their doom. The way things were looking now it was not unlikely that none of them would ever make it out of these woods alive again.

The darkness seemed to subside somewhat, if only slightly. Dawn wasn’t much of a dawn in this wood. The only thing that indicated that somewhere outside the sun had risen was the black darkness around them fading to grey tones. But at least they had some light to see by now and that had to count for something. As soon as he could make out his men’s shapes, he got to his feet, nodded to Bombur and Fíli and began to pack his own belongings together again.

The fact that his companions got to their feet as soon as they realised the others were moving about confirmed Thorin’s theory that none of them had been sleeping. He didn’t think any of them could as long as this crisis had not been truly dealt with. Only then and not earlier would he be able to get enough peace of mind to rest and sleep.

Bombur handed out a meagre breakfast, clearly not happy with the rations. The dwarf king doubted anyone was happy with them, but it was just the way it was. As it was, their food supplies would probably last till they were out of this blasted forest and once they were out they would be able to hunt again, live on what the land itself could offer them. This land, as it turned out, had not yet provided them with anything. It wasn’t a surprise, since the book had already informed him of this, but he would readily admit that it was a slight disappointment. 

‘Stop fussing!’ Kate’s annoyed voice interrupted his thoughts and when he turned around he was just in time to see the owner of the voice back away from her eldest brother, who had clearly been trying to help her with something. ‘Believe it or not, I can look after myself. I am not a child anymore.’

Thorin almost pitied her. Dori’s fussing over the rest of the company was sometimes bad enough, but when it came to his family, the grey-haired dwarf really knew no limits. Having the Ri brothers as kin for Kate was sometimes a very good thing, because it saved Thorin from having to worry over her in dangerous situations, but he could imagine that it could be more than a little annoying when nothing dangerous was threatening to eat them or attack them. And if anyone hated that kind of mother hen behaviour, then it was the company advisor.

They continued their bickering in lower voices as to not alert every sentient being in Mirkwood to their presence, but it was clear from the way Kate was looking that things weren’t improving and her temper was dangerously close to snapping once again. There was a fire burning in those grey eyes and Thorin had seen that look directed at him often enough to know exactly what it meant.

The camp was broken up and they would start moving again soon, so maybe it was time to launch a rescue mission. And it would distract him from his gloomy thoughts and that was more than welcome. The only thing he wasn’t yet certain of was who he would be rescuing from whom. Brother and sister appeared to be in equal measures of danger. Dori was in danger of getting his head ripped off by his seriously annoyed sister and Kate was in danger of being mollycoddled to death by her overbearing eldest brother.

‘Dori, Kate,’ he greeted as he joined them.

‘Thorin,’ Dori acknowledged.

‘Morning.’ Kate sounded a little sour, no wonder with the mood she was in.

If it was distraction he had been looking for, he had found it. Already the corners of his mouth seemed to take on a life of their own, curling up of their own volition. He suppressed the smile before it was fully formed though, because Mahal help him if Kate came under the impression that he was making fun of her. Then it would be his head getting ripped off. ‘Dori, might I borrow your sister for a while?’ he inquired politely. Strictly speaking he could borrow her without anyone’s permission, but Dori was already under the impression that something was going on between the two of them and it would be much better to be safe than to be sorry.

That of course was a subtlety that passed Kate by entirely. ‘Said sister is standing right here,’ she informed them.

Dori ignored that. He had deluded himself into thinking that it was his job to mother his younger siblings and in his eyes that meant that he arranged their entire lives for them if only given half a chance. As admirable as his devotion to his family was, Thorin could very easily imagine that it must feel stifling to said younger siblings, especially to Kate, since she was used to rule her own life as she saw fit.

‘What do you want her for?’ he questioned. The tone of voice wasn’t hostile yet, but it was certainly bordering on it. He was suspicious of Thorin’s intention towards the advisor. Clearly he did not believe the explanation that they were friends at all. Lately he had taken to keeping as close to them as he could, almost literally staring holes in Thorin’s back when he thought his king did something inappropriate. He didn’t think this had escaped Kate’s notice, but like him she seemed to sense that an argument about this subject would be nothing short of useless, so they let it be.

Most of the time. His temper was already tried after last night. ‘You _are_ aware that Kate is my advisor?’ he asked the other dwarf in as icy a tone as he could manage.

‘ _Your_ advisor?’ Dori echoed.

Too late he realised that although his words were the truth, he could have used other words to avoid Dori flying off the handle. The possessive pronoun would have set Dori off either way and his mood wasn’t too well already. ‘My advisor, yes,’ he nodded. ‘I am the person being advised,’ he added for good measure. _In Durin’s name, do not let him get the wrong impression._ The last thing they needed now was a fight amongst themselves, not when the orcs would be more than willing to finish them off when they came.

‘It’s all right.’ Kate was looking highly uncomfortable and irritated at the same time, both of which Thorin could explain. The anger stemmed from a strong desire to deal with matters herself, while the awkwardness found its roots in practically the same thing. She just didn’t really know how to deal with this, but experience had taught him that she would soon surrender to the anger. It was her way. ‘If Thorin wants my advice, that’s fine. We’re done here anyway.’

The last sentence was more of a command than a casual remark and was accompanied by one of the sternest stares Thorin had ever seen. Angry stares, aye, that he had personal experience with. The commanding side of Kate was still somewhat new to him, even if he had seen flashes of it. He remembered the first day of the journey when the then still very unwilling advisor had demanded answers of a very reluctant wizard. He remembered thinking that she must have been some kind of authority figure in her own time. Back then that impression had soon faded again, but he had seen it resurface at Beorn’s house when she had taken it upon herself to organise whatever needed doing before they left for Mirkwood. He had seen a leader then, an equal.

And lately he saw more and more of that woman. It was a more mature version of the Kate that had stormed out of Bag End calling him Mr High and Mighty. She was still stubborn and independent, still loud-mouthed and impulsive, but there was some depth to it now. Thorin could not quite explain it, but something was different and he was certain that it was a change for the better. She seemed to think more, seemed to be willing to listen more. And ever since he read the book their friendship had started to grow from a friendship-on-mutual-agreement to a real, genuine companionship that felt natural and strong. For the first time since the human woman had joined the quest, Thorin realised that he would regret it when she returned to her own world. If she ever lived long enough to return to her own world.

That brought him back to the here and now. He nodded politely at Dori and then strode away, confident that the point had been made and also confident that Kate would be following him before long, even if he was likely to get an earful for his behaviour just now. And he would welcome it with open arms, because it was a distraction.

The company was on the move now and Thorin took his place at the head of the column. He may not be able to prevent another run-in with his lifelong enemies, but he would go in first, meet them head on before any of the others. It was his duty as a king. First to attack, last to pull back. That rule had been instilled in him since he was old enough to walk and talk. And they were good rules to live by, honourable ones. There was however nothing honourable about leading his men to their own death.

‘You know, if you thought that was subtle, I’ve got bad news for you.’ The sarcastic remark announced the arrival of the advisor.  

And Thorin welcomed her presence, even if he would never be heard to say such a thing within hearing distance of anyone. Right now it was the much needed distraction. Dwalin was a friend as well, but he would want to talk strategy and that was the one thing Thorin could not face now, not when there was no strategy that could truly be discussed. They did not know what exactly they would be facing or when they would be facing it. There was no preparing themselves. When the time came they would fight and that was all that could be said for it.

‘I was helping out a friend,’ he informed her.

And Kate was quite possibly just as desperate for distraction as he was, if her reaction was any indication. ‘Oh, was that what it was?’ She kept her voice light, but it was forced and Thorin knew it. The woman was scared and used her humour to mask just how terrified she was. He could not fault her for it. ‘Because from where I was standing it reminded me a lot of Jacko warning off my boyfriend. Admittedly that was when I was fifteen and the guy did turn out to be a self-important bastard, but still, there are certain similarities.’

Thorin tried to figure out if she had just been trying to tell him that he was not a self-important bastard in her very own diplomatic way, but he could not be sure and asking her would doubtlessly end up in an answer that he did not want to hear. She would use that as a way to embarrass him and the comparison with her real brother and a boyfriend – he was a little confused as to why the mention of a boyfriend made him want to kick something, so he banished it to the back of his mind and forced himself not to think about it anymore – was already alarming enough. He was sure he would be placed in the role of boyfriend, not a word he thought fitting for a king of Durin’s line. Well, he certainly would not be the brother and in that case him interfering could have given off the completely wrong signs. Again.

Kate seemed to have read his mind. She chuckled. ‘You know, if we want to set them right about the obvious lack of a relationship, we should perhaps stop giving the wrong impression time and again, what with you trying to be the knight in shining armour right now and involving me in the war councils and all that.’

‘Are you saying it is _my_ fault?’ He did like Kate as a friend, valued her company and even her opinion these days, but this was absurd and he could not help but react to it.

Kate rolled her eyes at him, not at the very least impressed with the snarled question that had been known to send a younger Fíli and Kíli running for the cover of their mother’s skirts. It had also been known to make many an ordinary dwarf back off, which was distinctly more impressive than making his own sister-sons run in fear. It did however not affect the human woman.

Maybe it was a result of their new friendship, but then, he never had been able to order her into silence and obedience. Kate had been like this since the day they met. Maybe, he pondered, it was one of the reasons he put up with her at all, considered her a friend. Most of the women he met – those of his own folk, mind – had so much respect for him they hardly dared to open their mouth in his presence. The very few women he had met from the race of Men had looked down on him with disdain, feeling themselves high above him in every sense of the word. Kate was none of those. It made her interesting, a riddle, because he could never quite figure her out, even if her face was a book open to read for all who had eyes to see.

‘Didn’t I say _we_?’ Kate asked innocently.

‘Then what, pray, is it that you have done to give the wrong impression?’ He was curious. He could think of a few things, but he wondered if she would acknowledge them. He rather doubted it.

She hesitated for a moment. ‘I seek out your company.’ Her cheeks were a bright crimson and she avoided meeting his eyes, almost as if she was confessing a crime. ‘And we bicker like an old married couple, according to Fíli, and last I checked it took two to argue.’

Seeking out his company indeed. That was what most likely had annoyed Dori so, especially since the other dwarf seemed to think that Thorin was in some ways bad for his sister. The dwarf king indeed found it hard to argue with the bruising he had unwillingly and unknowingly caused on Kate’s arms, but he had hoped Dori would back off after their conversation outside Mirkwood.

‘A grave crime indeed,’ he commented with some sarcasm.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment. Then she shook her head and laughed. ‘I’m still trying to get used to your sense of humour. You know what, you should use that on Azog.’

The atmosphere changed in a matter of seconds with the mention of the Defiler’s name. He had almost forgotten about the danger, but this brought it back to the forefront of his mind. He did not know who commanded the orcs they were likely to encounter, but it could very well be him.

Kate seemed to sense his change of mood. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.’ She shot him an apologetic look.

 _No, you should make fun of this_. ‘Humour is good, Kate,’ he told her. It helped him cope with everything the world kept throwing at him.

He stopped dead at that. Thorin knew his hearing was good and he could have sworn he heard something just now. The was vaguely aware that his company came to a halt behind him, but he could not truly focus on that now.

‘What is it?’ Kate had lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper, somehow sensing that something was off, which was an altogether welcome change from how things had gone last night.

He beckoned her to be quiet and listened harder. The road wasn’t straight and there could be all kinds of things just around the next bend in the path or the next, obscured from view by the large trees and thick bushes of Mirkwood. This could still be a group of animals moving around.

 _But it isn’t_. Maybe this was paranoia induced by last night’s events, but he did not believe so. This was something else. And he would rather be safe than sorry, because they could not wait until whatever it was that was approaching – for approaching it was – had come close enough for them to see.

‘Up into the trees,’ he hissed. ‘Do it now.’ _And Mahal give that we will be able to live and fight another day._

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I have no idea what it is that he just heard, but something tells me that this can’t be good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time Kate is going to do something incredibly stupid. Until then, comments are always appreciated. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	39. Suicidal

_Thoren, do you remember that first time we took you on a diplomatic visit to the Iron Hills? It was summer, the roads were safe and we travelled with a very small company so that we would be able to make more speed, so that hopefully we would make it back to Erebor before Durin’s Day. The sun was shining and you were joking with Narvi, presumably teasing him about his obsession with Duria (if his facial colour was any indication). I think I was having a relaxed conversation with your father when the orcs ambushed us and Thorin changed from his normal self into a battle commander right away._

_That was what happened that day as well. One moment he was teasing me, the next he had slipped into his role of a determined battle commander in an instant and in a way that was a bit frightening. It was like he had become a different person altogether. He ordered us to go up into the trees and most of our companions hurried to comply. There wasn’t a lot of choice in that either. We could not hide in the bushes as we had done the previous night. They were so thick that I doubted even a small mouse could have hidden in it and at any rate it would not do us any good if the enemy had wargs at their disposal. Those bloody dogs would smell us out within seconds._

_Running into the forest was out of the question for obvious reasons and running was not something we felt inclined to do either. And remaining on the road was practically the same thing as suicide. As long as we didn’t know who or what we were dealing with precisely, the trees really were our best option. It would not help us to avoid detection, not if wargs would pick up our scent, but it would stop them from getting at us immediately. Trees also had the added bonus of allowing us to shoot at them, while they shooting at us might prove to be a little bit more difficult. Beorn had given us bows and arrows and if the grim expressions of my companions were any indication, they were prepared, no, determined to use them if they were given as much as half a chance…_

 

For a moment time seemed to stop, but then the company sprang into action without as much as a second thought and Thorin was grateful for it, even if it was no less than he had expected. It was like it had been last night. They learned that there was a crisis and acted on it without asking questions.

Even the company advisor seemed to have realised that freezing into place wasn’t the best way to deal with a crisis. She was giving the burglar a hand in getting up the nearest tree. This tree may have been an oak once, before the whole blasted forest had gotten infected with only Mahal knows what exactly. The bark was so dark it was almost entirely black and the same could be said about the leaves. It looked threatening and not at all like a good place to hide, but there wasn’t much choice. Thorin stayed down until he knew for certain that everyone had left the ground and then followed Kate and Mr Baggins into the tree.

The dread was settling in his stomach for real now, because this felt awfully much like that time they had hurried up into the trees after escaping the angry goblins of the Misty Mountains, only to find themselves cornered first by their pet wargs and then by Azog and his merry bunch of misfits, as the advisor had eloquently described them. And the worst thing was that they had absolutely no way of preventing this encounter from going down the exact same road. And he didn’t allow himself to believe that suddenly eagles would come swooping in to assist them. That would be a foolish notion.

And Thorin knew that these were the main unit of orcs that the hunting orcs had mentioned last night. He could not say how he knew. He just knew. There weren’t many other people who had a reason to be on the Men-i-Naugrim these days and with good reason too. These woods were too dark, too dangerous, too close to Dol Guldur, even if that fortress was still many miles south of them. But the sick forest was a clear sign that whatever dark force dwelled there had influence on what happened many leagues north of his domain.

‘Orcs?’ came Kate’s soft voice from next to him.

Thorin strained his ears and listened. The enemy was closer now. He could hear the sound of feet marching and the low growl of a warg thrown into the mix of sounds. It was as he had feared. Only orcs marched in such a manner and only orcs made use of wargs. Before now he may have entertained the hope that this was an elven patrol – which didn’t necessarily make things any better, but at least they had a slightly better chance of not getting killed right away – but the noises this small army made were sufficient to make that hope go right down the drain.

He nodded. ‘Aye, those are orcs.’

It was hard to see properly in this light, but the pale colour on Kate’s face was unmistakable and Thorin was hard pressed not to feel sorry for her. Something still told him the woman had no business being here at all. But rationally he knew that since a few weeks she actually had. This may still not be her world and she may not have come here willingly, but she had made this quest her own and she had chosen this path, knowing the dangers of it full well. He blamed his worry on wanting to protect the female in the company.

‘Charming,’ Kate commented. It was another shot at humour, Thorin could tell, and he was grateful for it. It would help them in coping.

From where he was sitting he could hardly see the members of his company, but he could see the road rather well. When the orcs came round the bend in the road he had a perfect view, even if he immediately wished that he wasn’t so privileged. It was a group of approximately fifty orcs, having ten wargs with them. They were heavily outnumbered, the dwarf knew, and they had hardly any advantage at all.

The worst thing perhaps was the sight of their leader. Azog the Defiler was sat atop a huge warg. It was a different warg than he had rode back when they had first clashed, he observed. It was just as huge as the one he had before, but its fur was of a different shade. It was still white, but bordering on grey. He had a faint recollection of an eagle grabbing the white warg just before he had passed out. It would be safe to say that that monster had not come out of that encounter alive. And good riddance too.

The Defiler himself was unchanged, save for a still healing, rather serious looking wound on one of his legs. Seeing that made Thorin almost smirk. He remembered that Kate had slashed open one of Azog’s legs just before she herself got hit. In Thorin’s mind it seemed fitting that both the persons Azog wanted had somehow left their mark. Because the dwarf king had seen enough wounds in his life to know that that wound would scar permanently.

‘ _The dwarves are hiding in their trees again_!’ Azog’s words were accompanied by one of the most fearsome grins Thorin had even seen. He had ordered his army to stop when the wargs had inevitably picked up the company’s scent on the road. He had known this would happen the moment he had first seem the wargs, had known that it would be too much to expect that they would not notice it. Still, it was a disappointment. The only advantage they had now was that Azog had not yet seen where they were hiding out. It was a small consolation, but a consolation all the same. Oh, the Defiler knew they were in the trees, since they could hardly be anywhere else, but his searching gaze betrayed that he had not yet figured out in which trees they were hiding out.

‘Speak a language we can all understand,’ Kate muttered next to him. She was clinging to the tree for dear life, reminding the dwarf an awful lot of how things had been when Azog had first cornered them, but there was something else there as well this time: determination. It was as clear as daylight on her face. There was a will to fight, not to run away and hide. And that was a change, one Thorin was grateful for, even if he did not know where it had come from.

‘He knows we’re in the trees,’ Thorin reported in a whisper as to not alert Azog to their exact whereabouts. ‘He doesn’t know which ones.’

‘He has a whole forest to choose from,’ Kate commented, the barest hint of irony audible in her voice. It was the humour shield again, but as long as it would help them in keeping their spirits up, Thorin would not complain. Mahal knew the hobbit was looking as if he was about to faint already. And if he did, he would end up as dog’s dinner, which would be regrettable. Thorin still wasn’t entirely convinced that the halfling was indeed useful, but he had demonstrated some burglar skills and the book was of the opinion that Bilbo Baggins would be of great use before the end of the quest. Thorin would rather see that for himself first, but he wouldn’t see anything if the hobbit got himself eaten now.

At that moment they were distracted by a yelp of pain and a sound of warg in agony. Thorin’s head swivelled around to take in the scene, just in time to see one of the wargs crash to the ground, an arrow sticking out of its neck. It crushed its rider underneath its body, hence the orc’s yelping.

If Thorin could have yelled at his sister-son without alerting every orc within a three mile radius to his presence, he would have done so. Kíli had just given away in which tree he had hidden when there was no need for revealing himself just yet. Azog didn’t know yet in which trees they were, but now Kíli’s youthful stupidity had given him a target. And furthermore it also served to enrage the orcs. Thorin did not think they actually cared about the death of their comrade and their pet dog, but they did not take well to being attacked. It was in their nature to strike back and they would not hesitate in killing any dwarf they could get their hands on.

‘Fool,’ he cursed under his breath when Azog’s eyes strayed to the tree in which Kíli was hidden. The smirk on the Defiler’s face, because that was truly the only way it could be described, didn’t bode well. The dwarf king could feel his hands clench into fists and he had to fight his hardest not to throw caution to the non-existent wind and rush out to fight, get that monster away from his family. Azog had had that exact same look on his face when he had held up Thrór’s head for all to see and the memory assaulted him, made him want to jump out of this tree to attack to prevent history from repeating itself. It took all his strength to remember that for the moment Azog could not reach anyone.

A hand found its way to his fist, folding itself over it and giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t need to look up to know that this was Kate’s hand. No dwarf had such small and delicate hands as she had and the hobbit wouldn’t dream of doing this. It had to be her. And when he checked he found that he was right. Kate’s face seemed to have frozen into stone, but when she caught him looking she conjured up a tentative smile that nonetheless didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was fear, even if she was unwilling to show it. He could not blame her for that. All her experiences with orcs so far had given her more than enough reason to fear them.

‘Don’t give him the satisfaction,’ she reminded him, almost sternly.

He did an attempt at humour, hoping that would help him in controlling his anger that was urging him to jump out of this tree and to attack the orcs no matter what the cost. ‘Advice doesn’t work if it is given to the person that first gave it to you,’ he told her, remembering all too well that it had been him who had first said this to Kate, back in Goblin-town when the fear was overwhelming her.

‘Then what happened to _practise what you preach_?’ she shot back. The smile seemed more genuine now. The witticisms didn’t do much to help Thorin, but they did seem to distract Kate and that had to be worth something at least.

And for her sake he tried to keep it up, desperate for anything that would keep him grounded until his brain had fully caught up with his feelings. He remembered all too well what had happened when he had last tried to face down Azog and it had not gone quite according to plan.

‘I said _do as I say_ , not _do as I do_ ,’ he retorted.

Kate snorted. ‘And thank goodness for that. Something tells me that brooding thing you do would not suit me at all.’

Bilbo was looking at them as if they had just lost their mind. It was clearly entirely beyond him how they could joke, of all things to do, when there were so many other things to be worrying about. He did not know that it was a coping strategy, their way of dealing with a situation that else might send one of them into the luring clutches of unadulterated terror and the other into a fit of recklessness, which could only ever lead to his death and Thorin Oakenshield was not yet ready to die. He had a Mountain to reclaim, a life to live. It was his duty to make things right for his people and he could not do that if he was dead. Things truly were as simple as that.

The storm of anger was still raging in his heart, but their strange bantering had given him pause long enough to get something of a grip on himself. He still felt the urge, the burning need to go out and fight Azog away from his family, but he could control it now. His fists clenched around the nearest branch he could find and he forced himself to control his breathing. If he worked himself into a state, he would not be able to make the decisions he needed to make rationally and that was what they needed most right now.

‘ _Look what we have here_.’ Azog was looking up, presumably straight at Kíli, making it very hard on Thorin to remain anywhere near rational. ‘ _Another Durin rat. What do you think your uncle will do when I get my hands on you, Kíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thráin_?’

Thorin felt like throwing up. The bile rose in his throat, but it was hard to determine whether it was caused by fear or by anger. He had worked hard to keep his sister-sons hidden, had worked so hard to keep them safe. He had not believed that anyone outside Durin’s Folk had even known about them. Azog should not have been able to find this out. He might have heard some names, but he should not have been able to recognise them on sight as he had clearly just done. He recalled a certain conversation in Rivendell with Kate, when they had discussed the possibility of a traitor, someone who would have told Azog all about the quest and Thorin. It made him go very cold inside. _Mahal help us all_.

‘He knows.’ The words came out from between clenched teeth, betraying how much this affected him, but he did not care, could not care. He had made a promise to Dís before he left, a promise to look after her sons, to bring them home to her. He would not fail her. He had to do something, _anything_ at all. He would not let Kíli fall into enemy hands, not while he was alive and capable of swinging a sword around.

‘Knows what?’ Kate must have sensed his distress, because when she spoke the tone of voice was tense, on edge.

‘He knows who Kíli is,’ he clarified, eyes never leaving the scene.

‘ _He reeks of fear, dwarf_.’ Azog’s eyes were still fixed on the young archer, but Thorin did not doubt that the words were meant for him. ‘ _Just like your father. Do you think this one will last as long as he did_?’ There was so much threat in those words alone, even if they had been spoken in the Common Tongue. But somehow the use of the dark speech of the orcs made it sound that more threatening.

‘He will not have him.’ He had been meaning only to think the words, but when he checked they had come out of his mouth without him giving them permission to do so. But it helped him in a way, to say them out loud. It helped him in strengthening his resolve. Whatever it took, he would keep his promise to Dís, even if it cost him his life. It was a small price to pay if his family could be saved with it.

‘Agreed,’ Kate said. She gave the road below a thoughtful look. She wasn’t frightened anymore, or at least not as much as she had been before. This was a look Thorin would expect on Dwalin’s face, not on the advisor’s. His friend would look exactly like that when he was planning strategy. Maybe it was not Thorin’s or Dori’s company she had spent too much time in, but Dwalin’s. ‘We need a diversion,’ she muttered.

Thorin swivelled his head in her direction, momentarily forgetting he was on the verge of jumping out of this tree to do the most reckless thing in the history of Middle Earth. It was temporarily drowned out by the surprise he felt. ‘You have a plan?’

She bit her lip. ‘Half a plan,’ she corrected. ‘And stop looking so bloody surprised. I am in the possession of a brain, you know.’

He had never doubted that, but the previous experiences with dangerous situations had taught him that using said brain was not too high on her list of priorities on such occasions. But she had changed. He had realised this before, but he had never realised just how much she had changed.

‘What plan?’ he demanded. Any plan would be welcome, as long as it got them all to safety and it preferably didn’t include suicide to achieve it. Thorin could plan battles and strategy, but the finer tactics were often left to Dwalin, who excelled in such things. Unfortunately it was a little hard to discuss such matters when the other person was holed up in a tree across the road.

Kate bit her lip again. ‘It’s dangerous,’ she warned him.

‘This situation is dangerous,’ Thorin pointed out impatiently. ‘Do you think it will get us out of here?’ He would love nothing better than to demand a full explanation, but he had a feeling they were running out of time. Wargs and orcs were already circling Kíli’s tree, growling, looking for opportunities to get up and snatch the dwarves in it.

‘Hopefully,’ Kate nodded, before turning to Bilbo. ‘Do it.’

The hobbit didn’t seem too enthusiastic about doing whatever it was that they must have agreed upon when Thorin was too caught up in the events taking place underneath the tree to pay attention to his companions. It did make him wonder how he could have been able to miss this and what Kate had asked of the hobbit to make him look so utterly miserable all of a sudden, even more miserable than he already looked that was. And how had she gotten him to agree to whatever it was that she was planning?

Eventually the burglar nodded. ‘Very well.’ He sounded rather resigned, but then he slipped his hand in the pocket of his waistcoat and disappeared, vanished into thin air, leaving Thorin staring at the place where the halfling had just been.

‘The Ring,’ Kate reminded him. ‘The one that makes people invisible?’

He remembered now that in the book there had been something about a Ring and he also recalled that Kate was not pleased with it for some reason beyond his comprehension. But now was clearly not the time to discuss these matters.  He would have to leave them until they were out of danger again and that would not be any time in the foreseeable future. ‘What distraction did you have in mind?’ he asked. It went against the grain to let a woman with no battle experience whatsoever take control of the situation, but there weren’t too many other options available and time was running out. One of the wargs was already jumping up against the tree trunk, enormous jaws snapping at the dwarves that were only just out of its reach.

Kate’s eyes went to the bow he had strapped to his back. Words weren’t necessary to convey what it was that she had in mind. It was a gift from Beorn, but he had not believed he would need to make use of it. He wasn’t as good a shot as Kíli was and he was better with sword and axe. And with nothing to hunt in the forest, he was starting to think of it as useless. Right now, it was a gift from Mahal himself.

The first arrow hit the warg in one of its hind legs, making its angry snarl change into a long howl of rage and pain. He cursed his own inability to shoot well. It wasn’t a skill he had spent a lot of time practising and it was showing now. How had he ever been able to be as arrogant as to think he didn’t need a bow and arrow when he could have a sword?

What this shot did manage was that he had given his location away as well, but he found he could not dwell on that knowledge now, not when other people’s lives depended on it. He notched, drew and loosed a second arrow without hesitation. This one was better aimed, hitting the warg in its neck and it died with a horrible gurgling sound, effectively enraging the orcs on the ground.

All orcs but one. ‘ _There are more of them_ ,’ Azog said triumphantly. If anything, he seemed pleased with the way things were going. ‘ _Kill them all, but bring the king and his wife to me alive. They are mine to end._ ’

For once Thorin was glad Kate did not understand the exact words. It would only serve to send her into a full-blown panic attack and that was something they could do without now. He replied with another arrow, this time aimed at the Defiler himself. It missed the orc, but not his mount. The warg collapsed, launching Azog from its back as it died. A furious roar erupted from the Defiler’s throat, but the threat was not as impressive as before now that he lay sprawled on the Old Forest Road.

It hit him then that if he could shoot Azog now, he would be able to put an end to his defiling habits once and for all. He could finish what he had begun at Azanulbizar. He had thought the exact same thing when he had been holed up in that pine tree east of the Misty Mountains and he had found himself wishing for a bow then. Now he had one.

But it would seem that he had a need to put it to use to fend off the angry mob of orcs that now came to his tree. The tree shook with the force of the warg’s jumps against the tree trunk, making it difficult to aim and shoot. But he shot nonetheless. He had to if he wanted to live, if he wanted to rescue his people. And Kate was no help at all in this. The advisor clung to the tree for dear life, unable to do anything useful. Dwalin’s training had mostly consisted of teaching her how to use her sword and that had been difficult enough. Other weapons had been left for a later date. The bow had not been one of those weapons and so it was up the dwarf to keep them both safe.

He wished for a sword in his hand instead of sitting here and shooting like a first class coward who fought from a distance. He was used to being in the thick of a fight and as much use as his current weapon was, it was not how he preferred to do his fighting. But he forced himself not to think of what he wanted, because it would not do him any good at all. He just had to keep going long enough for Mr Baggins to… To do what actually? He had to admit that he did not have a clue.

Thorin had hardly finished that thought when the screaming reached his ears. He stopped shooting and looked at the source of the noise. He was met by the sight of a warg and orc on fire. He was just about to wonder how that had happened when he realised that the tree said orc and warg were under was ablaze as well.

 

***

 

The panic was tugging at the edges of Kate’s mind, threatening to overwhelm her since the moment Thorin had commanded them all to get up into the trees as fast as they could. She told herself that this was something they should have been expecting. They had seen the paw prints, had a minor skirmish with two orcs on a hunt for food, one of which had escaped. It was inevitable that they would have a run-in with the main force Thorin had mentioned at some point in time. Those things happened, no matter how much she disliked it.

And dislike it she did, especially since Thorin had started to shoot, thus gaining their tree the orcs’ undivided attention, something she dreaded more than she was ready to admit. The tree was shaking and she had to grab a branch, practically embracing it with all her might to keep herself from falling. Thorin had a better position, if not much better. But he at least did not need to hold on and he was able to remain shooting. Of course it could also be that he had a better balance than she had. She would not rule that out.

The other dwarves had started shooting as well, making good use of Beorn’s gift. Kate had been doubtful about how much use they would be, but right now she was ready to admit that they were a gift from heaven. They needed them and they needed them badly. Kíli had resumed his shooting and Kate was reminded of why the bow was his weapon of choice. He was deadly with it. Each arrow took out an orc or a warg. Of the last there were only three left standing, the one that was apparently trying to push down their tree included. She would readily admit that all the others that were shooting were not as good at it as he was, and that was indeed true for Thorin as well. But for now at least they were still more or less safe and the orcs were the only ones to have suffered losses. But they were still outnumbered and their arrows were running out. This situation could not last forever or until all the orcs were gone, which would be a preferable outcome.

And what on earth was taking Bilbo so long? He should have accomplished it by now, but the hobbit was nowhere to be seen. Of course he would not be seen what with that Ring around his finger, but the not seeing, the not knowing was a torment. She had no way of knowing how long this ordeal was still going to last and that made her almost give up on hope.

Not that this plan wasn’t suicidal or highly dangerous. Good grief, it could kill them as well as the orcs, but there wasn’t exactly a list of other options and they needed to do something. This ridiculous plan had been the only one her panicked mind had been able to come up with.

‘Bilbo, if we could create a distraction, do you think you could slip on the Ring and get out of the tree?’ she had asked when Thorin was too preoccupied with keeping an eye on his nephew in the tree across the road to hear what they were saying.

Bilbo had merely stared at her. ‘How do you…?’ he had begun to ask, making Kate realise a second too late that he had not actually told them about the Ring. It was something that was only in the book.

‘Book,’ she interrupted. ‘As you might have known, but that doesn’t matter now. Can you do it?’

She had a bucketful of doubts about this plan, but now was not the time to chicken out. They needed something to get them out of this situation and yes, her idea was highly dangerous, but the way things were looking now the chances of getting out of this place alive were rather slim either way. They might as well go out on their own terms rather than on the terms of creatures such as Azog. And at least her way would be quicker than the Defiler’s. She had no idea what that monster was saying, but quick death was certainly not a part of it. Kate even doubted it was part of his vocabulary.

‘They’ll smell me,’ the hobbit had said, pointing at the wargs.

‘Not if we keep them busy, they won’t,’ Kate objected. This was a lot of bluff, since she could not guarantee Bilbo’s safety at all, but no one’s safety could be guaranteed now and they had to do something or else they would all die.

 _A few months with the dwarves and you’re already thinking like an army commander_ , her brain commented wryly. It was right of course, but Kate wasn’t sure how well she liked this development. It felt as if the person she had been was slipping away more every day, leaving someone who might eventually have a hard time living in the world she had originally come from. How could she ever fit in again in a society that got upset if a celebrity twisted his or her ankle while in here people only got upset about attacks and lives lost, about reclaiming homes and fighting dragons? Her own world seemed so shallow, so meaningless in comparison.

 _Well, let’s worry about that later, shall we?_ common sense cut in. _If you don’t do anything now, chances are you will not live to see the day of your return. Focus, girl!_

It was right of course and so she returned her attention to the matter at hand. ‘We’ll keep them busy, Bilbo, I promise,’ she said, trying to sound as trustworthy as she could. ‘And I can’t do this myself. You’re the one with the magic Ring. And we have to do something or else we’re all going to die.’ Talking sense into the hobbit was no fun and she felt extremely guilty about asking him to risk his life, while she took no risks at all. But she knew that it had to be done, no matter how much she disliked the necessity of it. And they needed to act before things got terribly out of hand, even more than they already were, that was.

Bilbo thought for a moment, but then straightened his back, raised his head and took a deep breath. ‘I can do it,’ he said, trying and failing to sound brave. But Kate appreciated the effort and she didn’t doubt that the halfling was a lot braver than anyone gave him credit for and that included himself. The advisor remembered all too well that he had jumped into the fray when Thorin’s life had been in danger. He could do this, especially with the Ring around his finger. ‘What do you want me to do?’ He still sounded frightened, but at least he didn’t question her anymore and that had to be some sort of progress.

‘Set the forest on fire,’ she said.

Two eyes stared at her. ‘Have you lost your mind?’ It was a sign of how shocked the well-mannered hobbit was if he was using phrases like that. Bilbo Baggins was nothing if not polite, but right now he was hissing at her in a low voice, very unlike him. ‘We’re in a forest. Everything will burn!’

‘That’s the bloody point,’ she hissed back. ‘And if we’re lucky it will burn quite a few orcs as well.’

‘What about us?’ the burglar demanded.

‘We escaped last time,’ Kate pointed out. The fact that in this forest the fire might spread faster was something she conveniently banished to the back of her mind. The trees here were much closer to one another. Even a small fire might soon turn into an inferno here. The only thing that might help was that the ground in this place was relatively wet. It must have rained not that long ago. ‘And if we do nothing, we die either way. So unless you have a better idea?’ That last sentence might be more snappy than she had intended it to be, but she was losing patience. They were wasting time and Bilbo was being obstructive.

At least he shook his head. ‘I don’t,’ he admitted.

‘Then wait for my command,’ she had said.

And he had done as he had been told. He had not looked particularly happy when she told him it was time, but he hadn’t protested either. And fortunately Thorin had not asked any questions. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to, that there were plenty questions he would have fired at her right away in any other circumstance, but not today. He might have bitten her head off if he knew what she was planning, but at least she had warned him that it was dangerous, to which he had responded with a wry ‘This situation is dangerous.’ And he was right. There was every chance they would not come out of this alive and it frightened her. But they had to do something and she did not regret her actions.

But it started to look as if her scheme was unsuccessful anyway. He had not been detected. Had that been the case, they would have known. Azog would then probably use the halfling to get them to surrender. And Thorin, noble fool that he was, would do it without as much as a second thought, she had no doubt. So maybe Bilbo had taken his chance and slipped away as fast as his hairy feet could carry him, but Kate rather doubted that possibility. He had become a braver hobbit in the past few months. He would not run. But what on earth was taking him so bloody long?

She had hardly finished that thought when the cries began. Her gaze focused on the source of the noise and she saw a burning tree. Thank goodness, Bilbo had managed it. And he had done more than she had even expected him to do, because the tree wasn’t the only thing that was burning. An orc and a warg that had been nearby had been literally lighted up as well. She had no idea how the burglar had done that, but in that moment she felt triumphant.

The orcs were all distracted and, in some cases, even panicked. They were staring at the tree, seeing it burn, but they were unable to find a culprit for it. There was no one near, no one who could have started the fire. It must seem like magic to them.

Thorin used their temporary distraction to round on Kate. ‘That was your plan?’ he demanded, sounding both shocked and angry. ‘To set the forest alight?’

This was the Thorin Kate remembered from when they had first set out on this journey: angry, ill-tempered and under the impression that she lived to make his life a living hell. And she could not help but react to it. ‘Did you have a better idea then?’ she demanded, knowing that he had not. There were no good ideas in this case. And Kate had only been able to come up with this plan because Gandalf had been throwing burning pinecones when they had first encountered the orcs. It hadn’t been a brilliant idea then and it certainly was even less of a brilliant idea now, but it was the only plan she had to offer and they really needed to do something, even if it was as suicidal as this.

‘You will burn us all alive.’ Thorin’s voice was nothing more than a low growl. Kate could see the flames reflected in his eyes.

‘We didn’t burn to death last time we played with fire!’ The words came out more forcefully than she had meant them, but only because she was so very afraid, not that she would be heard to say that within anyone’s earshot. Heaven knew how scared she was and if she gave that fear as much as half a chance it would effectively change her into a snivelling wreck and that was something she could not allow to happen. If by some miracle they would all make it out alive, then she might allow herself to cry, not now and certainly not in the presence of the one person who did not seem to tolerate weakness.

The tree next to the first one was now ablaze as well. With the trees standing so close to one another the fire spread quickly and it burned hot and fast. Kate could smell the smoke and hear the orcs’ shrieks. One high-pitched scream made her turn her head around again, only to see one of the other two remaining wargs suddenly catch fire. She blinked and blinked again, unable to grasp what happened right away. It was only when she recalled that Bilbo had taken matches and a tinderbox with him that the penny dropped. The hobbit was deliberately setting their enemies on fire. He could easily sneak up on them on his quiet hobbit feet and light them up without being seen by anyone. It was still highly dangerous though and Kate feared for the hobbit. If he got caught, Azog would not be kind to him.

 _He will not be kind to any of us. Grow up, girl_. It was a harsh notion and one that was entirely unwelcome to her, but it was a realistic one. And she was not home anymore. This was the way this world worked and it was far more violent than the world she had grown up in. And the worst thing was that she was slowly becoming used to it, that she was slowly accepting the necessity of sending people off into danger. She was starting to think like some kind of army commander. Maybe she had spent entirely too much time in Dwalin’s company. There did not seem to be much of another explanation for the change in her thinking habits. It didn’t mean she suddenly liked the change though. It made her feel like she was losing who she had been even more. _And heaven prevent me from becoming like Dwalin_.

‘What’s he doing?’ Thorin snarled. He sounded angry, but Kate wasn’t fooled. He was worried. It was his way to become snappy whenever he worried about the quest or the company, or both. Lately it seemed that he was worrying all the time, although the snapping wasn’t directed at her as much as it had once been. That it was now, that hurt and she could not quite figure out why.

Something told her Thorin wasn’t exactly asking what it was that Bilbo was doing, but more why he was doing it. ‘I’ve got no bloody idea,’ she had to admit.

When she had first presented the idea to the hobbit he had almost been offended that she had even mentioned it, but now he was doing a hell of a lot more than she had asked of him to begin with. Hobbits truly were surprising creatures. _You can learn all there is to learn about them in a month and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you._ That was something Gandalf had once said in one of the Lord of the Rings movies and it would seem that he had the right of it. She had never believed Bilbo capable of setting fire to any living being, but here he was, doing whatever necessary to make the plan succeed.

‘This wasn’t part of the plan,’ she added when Thorin threw her an incredulous look. ‘He was only meant to light up the trees. Truly.’ She bit her lip again. ‘Listen, I know you don’t like what I have done and I am sorry that I didn’t ask your permission first, but we needed to do something and I couldn’t think of anything else.’ She didn’t know why, but suddenly she found herself almost pleading with him, begging for his understanding, his approval even. Now that gave her pause. Since when did she beg Thorin’s approval for anything? She had never cared much for his opinion before, well, not before they had become friends anyway.

The dwarf king was silent for a while, but then he reacted with a curt nod that made Kate for some reason want to exhale in relief, glad that she had not lost his friendship by doing what she had done. _Oh dear, you’re done for_.

‘It is done,’ was the curt spoken reply. This probably meant that her hare-brained scheme still didn’t have his seal of approval, but he wasn’t going to kill her for it either. _No, the fire might do that without his help well enough_ , a sarcastic little voice commented. ‘It cannot be undone.’

Those were not the words she longed to hear, but they would have to make do. And Thorin was not the kind of person who told someone he approved of something they had done only to soothe their nerves. And so she nodded, knowing that she could not expect more, even if for some stupid reason she wanted more. ‘So, what do we do now?’

She was favoured with another incredulous look. ‘Didn’t you have a plan?’ he demanded.

‘Only half a plan,’ she reminded him. It was only now that it could never be undone that she realised just how many flaws this plan had. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ she confessed miserably. And what a fool she had been for not doing so. She might have caused all their deaths with her own personal brand of stupidity. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was the right thing to be saying, especially now that she had put everyone’s lives at risk. ‘I really am. I don’t know what I was even thinking. It seemed like such a good idea and now… I messed up. I’m so sorry.’

It was like her own worst nightmare coming true. Ever since she had taken on the responsibility of really advising the company she had been scared that for some reason she would lead them astray. The weight of that responsibility had only started to press down heavier on her when Thorin and she had decided to break free from the book. Taking the Men-i-Naugrim had felt like such a great plan then. It would turn out now that Gandalf had been right in wanting to send them by the northern route. _He’s going to love hearing that_ , Kate thought. _If we ever get out of this blasted forest, away from these orcs and the fire_.

And they were starting to notice the effect of said fire now. It had not been very warm in Mirkwood with the trees blocking all the sunlight, but the fire was heating things up rather quickly. It wouldn’t be long or they would either be forced to leave their hideout or burn to death and Kate would choose the first option anytime.

‘You did what you thought to be right.’ The combination of Thorin’s voice and his hand on her arm snapped her out of her thoughts. For Thorin this counted as a reassurance, Kate supposed. And she was glad of it. It calmed her, made her able to clear her head and try to think straight, because good grief, were they in need of clear heads.

‘So, what do we do now?’ she asked, hoping and praying that he at least had some kind of idea now that her own ideas were non-existent.

Thorin glanced down at the chaos on the road and Kate followed his gaze. And it turned out that chaos was something of an understatement. The orc army, the part that wasn’t either dead or burning, was in complete disarray, trying to get at the dwarves or about to make a run for it. She thought it would be a fair guess to say that none of them had run for it already because of Azog’s furious roar. He must suspect the use of magic, as must his men, and that was cause enough for panic because, as it seemed, orcs weren’t big fans of magic. Like the goblins of Goblin-town they feared it and if they were very clever, they might be able to use that fear to their advantage.

For the moment it would seem that the orcs were in more danger than the company was, but that could not last very long anymore, Kate feared. The fire was spreading quickly and soon they would have to join the hell on the road. They might as well do it of their own volition.

Thorin seemed to be of the same mind. ‘We fight,’ he said.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What on earth was I thinking when I thought that this was actually a good idea? Have I finally gone insane?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time... Well, let's phrase it like this: after next chapter you're probably going to hate me. In the meantime, please comment? It would mean a lot.


	40. Surviving

_My plan was insane, I’ll readily admit that. Still, looking back on it now, I think it had been the right decision to make. Because in the end, as you lot well know, we did get out of that blasted Mirkwood, if not exactly how we planned it. But that is a story for later. You must forgive me. My mind tends to stray the longer I dwell on my memories. Right now, we’re still in that forest, surrounded by both flames and orcs._

_And I had quite a difficult time figuring out which one was worse. I tend to think the fire was, because there was no way we could reasonably fight that with no ocean’s worth of water at our disposal. And to think that the fire was the thing we had set in motion ourselves, well, that is irony if ever I heard any. And I’ll admit that I had been reckless to start it, but I guess you know where in Mahal’s name you got that reckless streak that I tend to curse from time to time. Your father had a streak of it as well, but yes, I think most of it comes from my side of the family._

_I didn’t feel particularly reckless and brave in that moment though. Getting out of the tree to face orcs and the one remaining warg sounded like a living nightmare to me. But burning wasn’t an acceptable alternative, so there wasn’t really much choice and recently I had come to the conclusion that I was more of a die-with-sword-in-hand-girl than a hide-and-get-killed-either-way-person. Having a sword at least made me feel as if I stood a chance, even when I was still absolutely hopeless at all things fighting. It was at least something and I think that may have been the only reason that I didn’t flip when Thorin told me we would fight for our lives. Quite the contrary actually…_

 

‘Of course.’ The words came rolling from her lips before she had actually thought about them. And when she did think about them, she had to come to the unpleasant conclusion that she had gone insane. Because this would be the first time she had agreed that fighting was a good idea, without protesting the notion, not even once. Kate blamed it on the crisis. It was clearly doing strange things to her.

Thorin however did not seem to notice. He was too preoccupied with the plan he had apparently thought up, not that charging down whilst yelling battle cries counted as a real plan. It was more of a fool’s errand than a plan, but it also was the only thing they could possibly do, no matter how much Kate hated the notion.

 _Get a grip, girl!_ she told herself sternly. _You’re part of the company now and you are the one who started this in the first place. You might as well shoulder the consequences for your actions._

Now that was an unwelcome notion, but it was a truthful one all the same. The time that she could fool herself into thinking that she was not part of this company was long behind her. She was a part of the company, part of the quest and now it would seem she needed to fight for it, in spite of the fact that her fighting skills were still the worst Dwalin had ever seen. _Well, Ori isn’t all that good either and he’s holding his ground._

And so he was. Her companions were already leaving their hiding places in favour of cutting down every orc they could get their hands on. Dwalin was of course right in the very bloody, in this case literally so, middle of it, charging the orcs with a wordless battle cry on his lips. Kate was quite sure that if she was on the receiving end of said battle cry she would have done a runner ages ago.

‘Stay behind me,’ Thorin ordered, truly back in commander mode now. The shock her lack of a plan had induced had worn off. If he still was shocked, he didn’t show it and for this Kate was grateful. She found she needed to believe that Thorin knew what he was doing, because that meant that someone at least did. She certainly didn’t think she was in any state to help out and as annoying as the notion of being protected once again was, in this case it was a reassurance, because heaven knew she did not want to get caught up in another fight.

‘Understood,’ she replied, trying and failing to keep the fear out of her voice. This was not the time to start whining or get a panic attack. _Later_ , she told herself. _Later you can freak out over how dangerous it all was. Just not now. Get going_. It may have been common sense, but Kate preferred to think of it as self-preservation. Because if she started to think about the very realistic possibility of dying, of never going home again, then she might just go insane and that would do her chances of survival no good. And she wanted to live, heaven knew she wanted to live.

There was the barest hint of sympathy in Thorin’s eyes. ‘We will come out of this,’ he vowed.

Kate conjured up a weak smile. ‘Would you swear to that?’ she joked feebly.

Thorin however did not seem to take it as a joke. He was dead serious when he nodded, still holding her gaze with his own eyes. ‘I would.’

Maybe she should not have been surprised, because this was exactly the kind of person, the kind of leader that Thorin Oakenshield was: risking everything, not at the very least his own life, to make sure that everyone else got out alive. The fool was far too self-sacrificing for his own good and he was definitely in a self-sacrificing mood now. The company being in danger seemed to have brought that on, as it always did. As admirable a quality as this was, it also pointed out that Thorin had a remarkable lack of self-preservation. And it wasn’t because he wanted to look like some sodding kind of action hero. He really cared about his people. And she did not like what this said about her, because she was not in the very least like him in that regard.

‘Well, no time for that,’ Kate reminded him. ‘We’ve got a battle to win.’

And that they had, no matter how much it frightened her. Kate’s fingers grabbed the hilt of Excalibur. She had named it after King Arthur’s famous blade, but heaven knew she could do with a little bit of his courage as well. Give her verbal confrontations any day, because this was the kind of confrontation she had no idea how to handle. But she had stood her ground so far and she would try her hardest to do so again. She had to.

Thorin was the first one out of the tree. He didn’t climb down – which would mean he had to turn his back on his enemies and that was something one should never do, according to Dwalin and common sense – but he let himself fall out of the tree, landing on his feet, already swinging Orcrist around with deadly efficiency.

Kate waited until he was a good distance away from their tree before she followed his example. She did not want to risk getting killed by friendly fire and Thorin was quite literally hacking his way through a lot of orcs that were attacking him from all sides. Azog himself was kept busy by Dwalin at the moment, so at least that foul being would not get the chance to get anywhere near the dwarf king for a while, which was a relief.

She jumped when there was no one left under the tree. The orcs had apparently never seen her and had abandoned the dark oak in which they had been hiding after Thorin had jumped out of it. That was  a stroke of luck and it would seem that she was in dire need of luck, because when she landed, she twisted her ankle. It had seemed so easy when Thorin had done it, but it would seem that it wasn’t. She muffled her cry of pain, and told herself not to be a baby, hopping over to the king who had told her to remain behind him.

 _Cripple as well as bad at sword fighting_ , her brain commented as she did a fairly good imitation of a limp rabbit. _This just gets better and better_.

She forced herself to ignore the voice. It would not help her to listen to it. And she had more pressing concerns at the moment. It was getting hot in here and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult with all the smoke that developed in here now. That the trees stood so close to one another was becoming a problem, because the smoke had nowhere to go. It remained where it was, obscuring sight and making breathing difficult, more and more by the second.

 _This was a mistake_. The thought wriggled its way into her brain and took up residence there, not planning on leaving anytime soon. And there was no arguing with it, because this was hell come alive on earth. It was hot, dry and fiery, everything she had ever envisioned hell to be like. And to top it off nicely, it was infested with little devils.

She had not really seen the orc coming. It was a blur, but her sword blocked the blow almost of its own volition, just like it had done in Goblin-town. Thinking didn’t come into it. Maybe she shouldn’t think about it too much, she thought in a moment of clarity. Maybe the trick of it was to let one’s body do the work, work on instinct instead of on conscious thought.

The strategy seemed to work and Kate had not even made a conscious decision to do it. And she did not have the time for that either. If she stood here and started to think it through she would have been killed within five seconds. Self-preservation took over as she swung her sword around, blocking blow after blow. She didn’t attempt to land a few herself. She was hardly able to keep up already and she feared that if she let her defence down for only half a second in favour of trying to find a flaw in his defences then he would use that opportunity to get to her first and that was a risk she did not dare take.

It was not like how it had been in Goblin-town. The goblins she had fought had been strong, but chaotic, disorganised and therefore easier to kill. That was something that could not be said for this small army. They were disciplined, extremely so even. They had probably been trained for years and they were good at what they were doing. She did not stand a chance, Kate knew that. Sooner rather than later this orc would be the end of her. He probably could have finished her already were he so inclined. He was toying with her, making her believe that she actually stood a chance, only to take delight in her despair as he would prove to her that she had never been able to beat him at all.

This should have scared her out of her wits, but under the given circumstances it only served to make her blood boil – and no matter how likely, the temperature actually had nothing to do with it. In a way this was a challenge, Kate supposed. And she had never been able to back down once it was put to her. It was in her very nature and so she doubled her efforts to try and prove him wrong. And yes, maybe she would die eventually and despair before she did so, but at least it was a small consolation that she would not despair for long.

The rest of the world lost its meaning. Her world had shrunken to the small patch on which she stood and the orc she was fighting. The sweat was trickling down her back and brow, her breathing was laboured because of the effort and the smoke she was inhaling and all her muscles were protesting against the abuse she forced on them, but she was not giving up. Her lungs started burning and she coughed, trying to keep up the fight as she had done so far. But it wasn’t easy, not at all. Her body was of the opinion that the smoke that invaded her lungs was more important than the on-going fight. It tried to cough the smoke away whilst at the same time it struggled for fresh air. But fresh air was in short supply around here. _God, help me. I’m suffocating!_

Panic was tugging at the edges of her mind even as she still brought up her sword to parry yet another blow, because what other choice was there? _Run, run, run!_ her mind screamed at her, a never-ending mantra.

 _Run where?_ Kate shot back. The voice that told her to run was the panic speaking and she could not obey that voice. Besides, there wasn’t anywhere left to run. She was surrounded by fire and it was spreading fast. Maybe it would burn the entire forest, she wondered for half a second. With nothing to stop it, it would spread until it had consumed everything in its path. And good riddance it would be too. _The elves will_ not _be pleased_.

She focused on bringing up her sword again to deflect the next hit, aimed at her head this time. But she was slowing down and although she did manage to turn the blow away from her head, it hit her shoulder. Kate cried out as the blade slashed through skin and muscle. The pain burned, making it almost impossible to ignore it. She wasn’t afraid of blood, not in the slightest, but this wound made her feel light-headed. Or was that just the lack of oxygen that was to blame for that? Kate could no longer tell and, what was worse, she could no longer care.

She had lost. She knew it and if the triumphant expression on the orc’s face was any indication, he knew it too. The smoke had affected him as well, but clearly not as much as Kate. Or maybe he did not care that even though he was victorious now, he might still die a terrible death by fire. Maybe orcs did not care for death. They did seem the types.

He grinned at her, the realisation that he had his prey exactly where he wanted her lighting up his face. The rest of Kate’s vision was blurred, but that stood out clearly, bright as daylight. She could only feel the pain and somehow all her fighting spirit had left her the moment she had received that wound. _Know when you are beaten_ , her mother had once told her and now she did know. She was hardly getting enough air to breathe, she was hurt and the chances of ever getting home were getting slimmer and slimmer with every passing second. It was just no good fighting anymore and hopefully this orc would kill her quickly and then it would all be over. This wasn’t like her, but she was just so tired of it all. And with her fighting doing her no good anyway, what was the use in fighting then?

A wordless battle cry snapped her out of it. Kate tried to focus, but it was hard to see anything when her vision was already blacking out around the edges.

‘You will not have her!’ That tone and voice she would have recognised anywhere, no matter what happened, no matter how dire the situation. And the next moment the place where the orc’s head had been was empty. Her thoughts were so slow by now that for a moment she stupidly wondered where the head had gone and it was only when Thorin ran into her line of sight that she realised that he must have killed her attacker and in that way had saved her life.

‘Kate!’ The tone was filled with panic. All it took was the cry of her name to convey that message. And it really didn’t suit him, not at all.

The pain was demanding most of her attention and she almost doubled over with the coughing, but she did manage to send a wry grin his way. ‘Do I… really look… that bad?’ Talking was even more of an effort than breathing now. Why was Thorin not affected by this wretched smoke? Was he somehow immune to it? It wouldn’t surprise her much. Mahal had made his children to endure practically everything and clearly this smoke was no exception.

Thorin ignored the very bad attempt at joking, slipping an arm around her waist to keep her from falling down, using the other hand to hold on to his sword. The support came just in time, because standing up was getting harder and harder with each passing second. Not that standing up was so important right now. The matter of not getting enough air was far more pressing, since she seemed unable to get any right now.

‘Keep breathing,’ Thorin told her.

‘How?’ Even uttering that one word cost a lot of effort now.

For a moment it almost seemed if there was worry written all over the dwarf king’s face, but it was only for a moment and then it was gone, so Kate told herself she must have been imagining things. Thorin didn’t do worrying. It didn’t fit in with his character. ‘Keep breathing,’ he repeated in his best commander voice, almost as if he would see her punished if she had the guts to disobey him.

He was leading her somewhere, even if dragging was probably a more appropriate word for it. Kate didn’t do much of the walking. She didn’t get enough air, her left shoulder still felt like it was on fire and she could have sworn her surroundings had started to move. And that could not be a good sign at all.

The advisor didn’t know where the orcs had gone. She didn’t see any, so maybe for the moment they were not important. And it didn’t really matter either. Orcs, as it turned out, weren’t the most lethal things around today. It would seem that the fire was going to be the end of all of them. What bitter irony that she should find her end in the flames of her own making.

Kate stumbled and fell and she couldn’t find the will to get up again. She was fighting for air now, even as her companion did not seem to be suffering too much. Oh, she did want to get out of here, more than anything, but she knew she could not find a way out of this inferno, so why try at all? Why not give up? For the first time since she had gotten here she found that she could not care less about what happened to her. Al alarming development that may be, but she was too preoccupied trying to get some air into her lungs that she could not bring herself to care about that either.

‘Get up!’ Thorin’s voice was as commanding as she had ever heard it, but it didn’t have any effect on her this time. She wondered if it ever had really. She had been defying him since the day they had met.

‘Can’t,’ she managed to say between coughs. There was no point in trying anymore, not when there was nowhere left to run. They were trapped and in trying to flee they would only try to fool themselves. It was just no use and she was hurting, tired and suffocating. She just couldn’t muster the energy to try and run anymore. ‘Leave me.’

Thorin was still able to run, of that she was certain. The smoke affected him far less than it did her. Maybe he did stand a chance. And he still had a quest to fulfil. But he wouldn’t be able to do so if he tried to take her with him. And that would mean he had to leave her behind. Surely he could see that?

It turned out that he didn’t. With all the smoke in this place it was hard to make out his expression, but for a moment Kate could see clearly and the dwarf looked absolutely furious. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he warned her. ‘Don’t you dare give up now, Kate.’ He wasn’t giving her much of a choice. His arm still was wrapped around her waist and he dragged her away with him. Kate could only try and put one foot in front of the other, but she wasn’t quite there anymore. Her head was spinning, she wasn’t getting enough air and her shoulder ached. Could Thorin not accept that there was nowhere left to run? She had signed their death sentences the moment she had ordered Bilbo out of that tree to light up the fire.

That was the only thing that still registered in her mind and it felt like a blow to the chest with a sledgehammer. This was her fault, her fault with her bloody stupid ideas. She had caused all their deaths. She stumbled and all but fell again. It was only Thorin’s death grip on her waist that kept her from crashing to the ground like a marionette of which the strings had been cut.

‘Fight it!’ Thorin barked at her. In a way this reminded her of another situation not all that long ago, in which she had been the one telling the dwarf not to give up. It would seem that their roles had now been reversed. ‘In Durin’s name, woman, fight it!’ She had never seen the dwarf lose control over himself like that. He even sounded panicked, but that could not be, so she dismissed the fanciful thought. Thorin didn’t panic. It wasn’t like him. It must be the smoke and the injury that caused her to think such strange things.

She coughed, trying to dispel some of the smoke from her lungs, but she only succeeded in inhaling another dose of it. ‘Trying,’ she managed to choke out. ‘Not as… strong… as you.’ The sentence ended in another coughing fit. Good heavens, it hurt. Everything hurt. She was too hot, her muscles protested the very notion of walking, her shoulder throbbed and breathing made her lungs burn and her eyes tear. But she didn’t have the choice to give up, not with Thorin dragging her to only God knew where.

Time lost its meaning. Hours could have passed, but it could also have been mere minutes or even seconds. All she knew was that she was stumbling – because this could not be called walking anymore – along with the dwarf and that she had actually no clue as to where they were going. The only thing she knew was that it all ended the moment something incredibly hot and burning landed on her left arm. The pain was too intense, too much considering what she was already trying and failing to deal with. Before she could even begin to fight it, her vision blacked out entirely.

 

***

 

Thorin thought his heart just stopped when the advisor’s body suddenly went limp in his arms. He had been looking around him for a way to pass through the inferno that now surrounded them. The rest of the company he had long since lost sight of. He could only hope and pray that they would somehow make it out of this living nightmare, but for now his thoughts were mostly focused on getting himself and Kate out of here. The dwarf king recalled some sort of hiding place they had passed shortly before they had found themselves ambushed. It was a sort of hole next to the road. It was far too open for his liking, but it had a shelter for over their heads and if they were lucky the flames would not be able to reach them there, if only they could get to it before they were both burned to cinders.

Thorin whispered a silent thanks to Mahal that he had spotted it. It had stood out to him because the shelter could easily conceal an orc or three from sight and that was why he had checked it out; to make sure that no one would attack them from there. In his mind it was only a five to ten minutes’ walk, but the time dragged on and they did not appear to come any closer to the place he remembered. Kate was slowing him down too. Thorin’s lungs protested the invasion of so much smoke, but he could handle it. Not for one moment had it occurred to him that not every member of his company would be capable of handling it just as well until he had seen his advisor’s face, eyes screaming panic at him as she fought for every breath. And she was already hurt. Things weren’t looking well. It didn’t help at all that he had seen Frerin look up at him with the same panic written on his face only seconds before he died at Azanulbizar.

And it felt like failure all over again. He had failed his brother that day, but so Mahal help him, he would not fail again, not while there was still a breath in his body. Thorin had sworn an oath and he was determined to keep it if he could. _I, Thorin, son of Thráin, so of Thrór, make this vow before Mahal: to protect and shield Catherine Sarah Andrews_. That was what he had sworn and he would make good on it.

Some part of his brain told him he should be more than willing to leave the woman behind. That hare-brained scheme of hers would be the death of them all, but Thorin could not for the life of him bring himself to condemn her actions, not while she had acted with the best intentions. And would they have had any better chances if they had not started the fire? Thorin doubted it. They had been doomed from the moment they had encountered the hunting orcs. The only thing they had still been able to determine was the manner of their death and this way they would at least take some of the orcs with them in their fall.

Yet they were still fighting, still alive. He didn’t know for how much longer, but Mahal willing they would make it out of this. But it was difficult. Kate was injured. Just before he had been able to interfere, the orc’s blade had slashed her shoulder and she had cried out in pain, the sound alone making Thorin see a red haze. He had struck the foul creature down without even thinking about it, his only thought removing the danger from the advisor. Where the orcs had gone after that, only Mahal knew. They at least weren’t anywhere near and that would have to do for now.

Kate had stumbled and fallen, her eyes half shut, clearly about to faint. He had hauled her to her feet, snapping that she was not allowed to pass out. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but he had been hoping for a more or less sarcastic put-down. Instead he had heard her ask him to leave her. And it scared him. Kate was a fighter. She did not give up. It simply wasn’t in her nature.

And it wasn’t in his either and so he had dragged her with him. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he had snarled at her. ‘Don’t you dare give up now, Kate.’

He would rather die than admit it out loud, but at that moment he would have given all the gold in Erebor to hear her protest that he had hired her to advise him, not obey him. The lack of protest from her lips was in a way more frightening than anything else. It was a dead giveaway that she was giving up, that she had resigned herself to dying.

And that was something he could not accept. He did not know where his men were, if they were even still alive, but he would save this woman he had sworn to protect. And, this of course was another thing he would never admit when called on, Kate had become more than just his protégée. She was a friend, and a friend in need. When he had been wounded, she had done for him what he was doing for her now, even though he had ordered her to leave him behind. It would seem that the time had come to repay the favour.

‘Fight it!’ he commanded, dragging her with him to the place he had seen before, hoping by Mahal that he had not already passed the place. ‘In Durin’s name, woman, fight it!’

He was supporting most of Kate’s weight now. She seemed barely conscious anymore, sagging against him. He could manage it, of that he had no doubt, but the advisor was on the verge of collapse and she was still bleeding as well. They had to stop, find a place to rest so that he could have a good look at that wound of hers.

‘Trying,’ came the reply eventually.

Kate’s breathing was shallow and laboured, and every now and then she coughed. The coughs were closer together now. The woman was fighting for every bit of air she could get and it did not seem to work much, something that worried the dwarf king even further. _Please, do not let her suffocate. Dori will take my head off._

‘Not as… strong… as you,’ Kate added, the words coming out in chokes instead of as a normal sentence.

And he was aware of that, only too painfully. His lungs started burning as well. Breathing was difficult for him too, but he could manage it, even if he knew that he could not keep it up indefinitely, which was why it was so important that he got them to relative safety – because entirely safe it would never be here – before he would be overcome as well.

At first he had not realised that not everyone was as little affected by the smoke as he was. He could not say how the hobbit fared – he had not seen him since he had slipped that magical Ring of his on – but the effect on the advisor was obvious. And he had not stopped to think about it before he saw how affected she was. He knew that dwarves had been made to withstand a lot, but he had not realised that this was apparently one of those things dwarves were better equipped to deal with.

‘We’re nearly there,’ he told Kate as he finally spotted the boulder that marked the entrance towards the shelter, trying and failing to ban the relief out of his voice. They would make it. He strengthened his left arm’s hold on her waist and gripped his sword tighter with the other.

Of course that was the moment that it all went pear-shaped, as Kate would phrase it. The advisor made a muffled sound that could have been a cry and then her body went limp in his arms.

It took him hardly a second to react and to assess the situation. A large burning branch had crashed to the ground, grazing her left arm in the process, the arm that had already been wounded by the orc’s blade. Somehow the combination of the already existing wound, her troubles with breathing and the force of the branch must have made her lose her grip on her consciousness entirely. She had already been close to passing out.

Everyone who knew Thorin would admit right away that he was not the type to fuss or to panic. It wasn’t like him. But now he found himself doing both those things at the same time. He blamed the circumstances for losing his composure in such a way. He was just lucky there was no one here to witness it.

Kate’s cloak had caught fire, but it was easily extinguished, even if he had to be a little rough to do it. Fortunately Kate was unconscious now, so at least she would not feel what he had to do to her. It was a small mercy, a very small one. And it was another that they were almost in the shelter. He hadn’t thought of what to do then. To be quite honest, he hadn’t been able to think further than getting there. They would have to wait it out, he supposed, as loath as he was to sit back. If only Óin was here so he could have a look at her.

He stopped himself right there and then, while he carried the advisor and her bag – Thorin was by now starting to wonder if he could get rid of the thing if he tried, since it seemed to follow Kate everywhere she went – into the shelter. It wasn’t much, mostly just bare rock with some bit of rock above their heads next to the road, but at least rock had never been known to catch fire. Mahal willing, they just might survive.

He had hardly finished that thought when it all started to fall apart. Thorin had been positioning Kate so that she might be more or less comfortable when he heard the rumbling laughter coming from behind him. And he would recognise that blood chilling sound anywhere. He had heard it at the Battle of Azanulbizar and he had heard it during their fight on the slopes of the Misty Mountains. It was a sound that one could never forget once heard.

He swivelled around, coming face to face with the Defiler. The Pale Orc did not seem to fear the fire raging around him. He stood there as if he was invincible, as if nothing could touch him. He was safe from the fire, safe from swords, axes and arrows. And maybe he was indeed untouchable. Thorin had battled the foul monster twice and both times Azog had survived. He was a little worse for wear, but he was still standing. Azog had survived the amputation of his right hand and Kate’s try to hack off his leg had only resulted in a slight limp that hardly seemed to bother him at all.

Despite the heat caused by the raging fire around them Thorin could feel himself go all cold inside. What chance did he have now? His last encounter with the Defiler had taught him a valuable lesson and that was that no matter what he did, he was no match for the Defiler, not at all. Thorin always prided himself in being a fierce warrior, but he could not stand up to this Gundabad orc.

But he had to. Kate was still unconscious, unable to defend herself. And he may have lost every other member of his company on this day, unable to come to their aid, no matter how much he had wanted it. He would not let the one person he could actually defend fall into the hands of such a foul creature as Azog.

‘ _Did you think you could outrun me, Thorin, son of Thráin_?’ Azog was mocking him and his inability to keep his company and himself safe. ‘ _Did you not think I would come to find you_?’

Thorin had never doubted that in the end the Defiler would always find him. It was inevitable. That blood feud would always catch up to him in the end, no matter how much he hated it. He would never be safe as long as that orc still drew breath.  And the feud would be the death of one of them one day. They had already clashed twice and no victor had emerged then. The dwarf king did not think such a thing could happen a third time. One of them would die before this day was out.

His fingers clenched around the hilt of Orcrist. Goblin-cleaver it meant. With any amount of luck he would see the truth of that within the next few minutes, or he’d be dead. And he could not die, not yet. His men may still be alive and there was Kate to consider as well. He was the only protection she had now. _I, Thorin, son of Thráin, so of Thrór, make this vow before Mahal: to protect and shield Catherine Sarah Andrews_. That oath still stood. And since Azog now believed her to be intimately involved with the house he had sworn to destroy, she was in as much danger as Thorin himself was. And right now he was all that stood between her and certain death.

Thorin risked the quickest of glances over his shoulder. The woman lay awfully still. Her chest still rose and fell with her shallow breathing, but it was hardly a consolation to the dwarf. She would not be waking anytime soon and there was nothing he could do to help her now, save for standing between her and the huge orc that would like nothing better than to kill her.

Azog unfortunately had seen that. ‘ _I can’t let her live of course_.’ The words were threatening in and out of itself, but the tone and language in which they were spoken only added to it. A cold shiver went down Thorin’s spine. ‘ _She could be carrying your child even as we speak_.’

Normally Thorin would have choked on the thought of Kate carrying his child for the obvious reasons. Right now he did so for entirely different reasons. He was tempted to tell this orc that Kate had never been anything more than his friend, but even though it was the truth, Azog would never believe him, not when he was so convinced that Kate was Thorin’s wife. And he was the King under the Mountain, albeit still in exile. He would not plead for his life or for the lives of his companions. He would not humiliate himself in such a way. And it would not do him any good either. The Defiler knew no mercy and therefore Thorin didn’t ask for it.

The only reply he had for Azog was gripping his sword so tight his knuckles turned white. He would not be tempted to make that first move. Let Azog come to him. It would give him a better starting position and it wouldn’t force him to leave the advisor without cover. And Azog would make use of that. He was already trying to lure him away so he could get to Kate, to get some leverage over Thorin, and he would not give it to him. He could hear an echo of the past resounding in his head. _He’s trying to lure you out of this damned tree, you hairy buffoon! And right now, you are giving him exactly what he wants!_ But not this time. This time when they would fight, it would be on Thorin’s terms and so he blocked out the insults and taunts the Pale Orc threw at him, meeting them with dignified silence.

‘ _You are the last of your line, Thorin, son of Thráin_.’ The Defiler’s face split in a terrifying grin. ‘ _Your sister-sons are dead. It’s only you now. How does it feel, knowing that you were not there to save them, knowing that they screamed your name as I ran them through, knowing that there was such desperation in their eyes when they realised you had abandoned them, knowing that they died alone, begging for your help_?’ The grin only widened as he went on.

These were not lies. Thorin had always been good at sounding out liars – he had to be if he wanted to remain standing in politics – and Azog wasn’t the liar material. He was many things, all of which Thorin despised, but he was not a liar. He was a warrior, boasting about his kills, knowing the exact impact of this brutal truth on his enemy.

Two emotions warred within Thorin: endless grief against burning hatred that was pulsing through his veins, banning out any physical discomfort he may have experienced. His heart clenched, feeling much more painful than any wound could ever have done. Fíli and Kíli both gone, brutally murdered for the crime of being born to a descendant of Thrór. It was all too easy to picture their broken bodies. Close together, he pictured them. The brothers had been inseparable since childhood. He hoped that their end had at least been quick. And in a way it was a comfort to know that they could not have suffered long. Not much time had passed since he had last seen them fighting and the moment the Defiler had shown up here. _Dís, forgive me. I tried. I tried so hard. I’m sorry. Forgive me._

He wanted to roar, cry his grief out to the skies and the flames, but it would be a sign of weakness and he could not show weakness. He was still alive and he needed his wits about him if he wanted to win this fight. And he wanted, _needed_ to win this fight. He may not be able to help his sister-sons now, but he owed it to them to avenge them if he could.

Rage was a safer emotion than grief, if not much safer. Rage would prevent him from going to pieces there and then, but it did make him want to storm at that orc over there and take his head clean off or die trying. The hatred coursed through his veins and it took every bit of will-power to remain in place. His mind was all too eager to provide him with the mental picture of Fíli’s and Kíli’s ends. It was even easier because of the fears that had already taken up residence in his head and heart. Kate’s book had predicted their demise, not in such a fashion, but it had foretold their deaths all the same. Ever since then he had dreamed about the event regularly and now his mind overwhelmed him with all the scenarios he had feared so much.

Mahal protect them all. The lads had been so young still, had their entire lives still ahead of them. They had not had a part in this feud. Of course they had heard the stories, but that was different. They had not been a part of this. It had however not saved them from being murdered for it.

‘ _Did they tell you how your father begged for mercy_?’ The words came flowing out of his mouth almost effortlessly. Thorin had never been able to pronounce the orcish language too well, but Azog would understand him. ‘ _Did they tell you how he died, screaming like a slaughtered pig_?’ He spat the words with every intent of angering his foe so much that he would throw caution to the wind and attack him.

He had been there on that fateful day, the day that had begun the feud that had made them end up here. It had been one of the first patrols his grandfather had allowed him to accompany him on. The area was supposed to be safe, so the ambush took them completely by surprise. Two guards were already dead on the ground by the time the dwarves had the time to react. But they had fought with all the determination and skill of their kind. Thrór had been at the very heart of the fighting, swinging his sword around with all the speed and skill of a dwarf only half his age. Thorin had seen it unfold before his very eyes. His grandfather had been a skilled warrior. It didn’t take him long to make Azog’s father lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. There had been screaming, and lots of it. But the orc had died shouting insult at his killer, not begging for mercy. But unlike Azog, Thorin knew how to lie if he needed to.

‘ _Did they tell you he choked on his own blood_?’ Thorin went on. He had seen a flicker of unadulterated rage in his enemy’s eyes and knew that he would get the reaction he was hoping for. ‘ _Did they tell you his suffering lasted for hours before he died_?’

That last statement wasn’t true. It had been a quick death, but there had been no orcs left alive to tell the tale. Thrór had just made the mistake to cut off the head and send it back to Mount Gundabad as a warning to the orcs there never to stray so close to the Mountain again. In all truth, it may be the dwarves that had begun the defiling, but they could not be held accountable for all the horror that had flown from it. Nothing could justify what the orcs had done after, nothing. And it could certainly not justify the violent murder of two innocent young dwarves.

But whether he had been lying or not, his words had hit home. The roar the Defiler let out made the ground under Thorin’s feet almost shake. It temporarily even drowned out the sound of the raging flames. Thorin was almost in danger of forgetting the fire anyway, too emerged in the showdown with his sworn enemy.

The Pale Orc stormed forward, mace in his remaining hand, claw at the end of his other arm. There was something immensely threatening about this approach, but Thorin was beyond fear. The grief and anger had left no room for anything else to be felt. Even the concern for Kate had temporarily subsided. And strangely enough, he was calm. It was as if this was meant to be, no matter what the outcome would be. It didn’t even seem to matter whether he lived or died. It just had to end here, in whatever way. Either Azog would die, or Thorin would find his end here. Either way, this feud would end today.

In the end, it was over before it had even begun. Azog all but threw himself at the dwarf king. The only thing Thorin had to do was to bring this sword up at exactly the right moment and he had done such a thing so many times that it hardly took any effort now. He could feel the elvish blade cut through skin, muscle and organs alike just before the Defiler’s on-storming body knocked him off his feet, sending him flying. Some people would have let go of the sword because of the shock, but Thorin wasn’t like them. His reaction was to hold on tight as he could – because letting go of a weapon was the biggest mistake one could make in a  fight – even when he came into contact with the hard floor of the shelter, making his head spin, thick dwarven skull or not.

The breath was knocked out of him and his vision was blurred. He had felt exactly like this shortly before he passed out after fighting Azog last time. He knew the symptoms. He would not last long now.

But he could not pass out yet. He had to know. His eyes searched the patch of ground before the shelter, finding what he was looking for close by. The Defiler’s body lay sprawled out on the floor. The mace had fallen out of his hand, lying somewhere close to him. But what really told Thorin what he needed to know was the vacant, empty expression in the Pale Orc’s eyes, staring at a point to Thorin’s right, not seeing a thing. The Defiler was no more.

He leaned back at the makeshift wall of the shelter, the last remnants of energy leaving his body now that he had done what he had needed to do. He could not feel triumph, not even relief. He just felt empty now. And his head was throbbing, his vision already blacking out around the edges. He just had the good sense to place his body between Kate and the threshold before he surrendered himself to unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Even if I would try, there are no words for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I realise some of you are probably ready to pick up a pitchfork and kill me with it, but you had been warned. Anyway, try to have some patience with me please? This has not been done with yet.  
> On another note, this story is temporarily going back to one update a week. This has everything to do with another story of mine, Just Another Normal Day, being very close to finishing. I am trying to get that done before I go on holiday at the end of July, so that means that Just Another Normal Day goes up to two updates a week, and The Journal back to one, because I can’t write them both at such speed. This will be for two weeks maximum as I have only about four and a half chapters left to write for that other story and I should be able to do that in two weeks. Meanwhile The Journal continues to update on Sundays. For the full message I’d direct you to my profile.  
> Next time: Thorin and Kate need to deal with the consequences of the inferno and the orc attack. Until then, comments would be lovely. I’d love to hear what you thought about this chapter.


	41. Survivors

_Pretty gloomy, isn’t it, my dears? Well, just let me assure you that it was even more so in real life. It was one of the scariest things that had ever happened to me and it frightened me, badly. Fortunately I missed out on most of the whole inferno due to being unconscious. At the time that frightened me too, but in hindsight I think I was only grateful that I did not have to suffer through Azog’s last attack._

_At least you now understand why your father and I have so little love of fire. This is a part of the tale we never told you before, I am indeed aware of that. It’s not a part of our story we told to many people. You might ask why we did not and I think at first I told myself that there was no need for everyone to know exactly what happened there that day. We told them the basic facts, but not the true extent of the events. There was no need for it. We never truly agreed upon not relating that part of the story, we just did._

_So why did we not tell you the truth? Well, when you were old enough to be told of our adventures as a bedtime story, we simply edited it out because we did not think that such horrors would make for a story to tell one’s children before they go off to sleep. We didn’t want to make you suffer through nightmares._

_Looking back however I think that was only part of the reason why we were not as open about this as we maybe should have been. The real reason was that neither of us could bring ourselves to face the memories of that day. They were too intense, too difficult to bear. Telling the true tale would mean that we had to put ourselves back there, relive all the horrors of that day and, call us cowards all you want, neither of us could truly do that. It hurt too much. For years after one of us, or sometimes even both of us, would suddenly wake from a nightmare about that attack, the fire, the horror of that day. It wasn’t something that was easily forgotten._

_Even now it isn’t easy for me to talk or write about it, and neither is it for Thorin, but you are our children and we promised you the true tale. You have a right to know. Sometimes things really are as simple as that. But we allowed the wrong story to come into the world and nothing made that more clear to me than seeing my two eldest sons pretending to be Thorin and Azog in their final fight. My dear boys, you made it all look so heroic, so honourable even. But it wasn’t like that, not at all, and now you know the truth. It wasn’t honourable and it wasn’t heroic, but life is neither of those things most of the time, I have learned._

_But at least one thing about the story you have always heard is true: Azog was dead…_

 

It was the throbbing pain in her shoulder that pierced through the foggy haze in her head eventually, dragging her back to the land of the living. Kate tried to fight it, tried to prevent the consciousness from kicking in. Her brain was so confused and she had trouble sorting out her memories, but something told her that this waking world was no place she wanted to be right now. It was too hot, too painful, too terrifying. Unconsciousness was safe. Nothing and nobody could hurt her there and she could pretend that everything would be all right again when she woke.

Things were not all right now. She wasn’t even fully awake yet, but already she could feel the pains her body seemed all too eager to remind her of. Her left shoulder ached like it had never done before; a throbbing, burning kind of pain that soon demanded all her attention, forcefully dragging her away from her previous unconscious state. She cringed, as if she could get away from the pain that way, but her attempts of course were fruitless. It felt like something was holding a hot poke against her left shoulder and upper arm and she whimpered in spite of herself.

This alerted her to another problem she seemed to be experiencing. Her chest ached badly and the same was true for her mouth and throat. Every breath was a torture in and out of itself, making her want to cough and spit out whatever thing had gotten into her lungs. It burned and there didn’t seem to be enough air getting into her lungs, no matter how deep the breaths were she took. Good grief, it _hurt_. It wasn’t as bad anymore as the suffocating feeling she had experienced earlier, even though her mind was quite unable to pinpoint how exactly that had happened, but it still was less than pleasant and to be quite honest, it scared her.

She was lying on her back, that much was clear. There were rocks poking into her back and shoulders, making her want to find a more comfortable position than the one she was currently in. She would have tried to find one had she not been absolutely certain that there wasn’t a position that would make her feel a little more comfortable.

There was a weight on her right shoulder and on her stomach as well. Both weights were heavy and warm, but it was a pleasant kind of warmth, not the hot burning she felt on her left arm. In a way it was a comfort, something that unexplainably felt safe. She could not put her finger on it, but in all the confusion and pain it felt like a safe place because of that. Maybe she could just lie here for a little while longer, eyes closed, trying to sort out her thoughts before she would force herself to leave that safe place once and for all. The pain was still demanding her undivided attention, but she tried to ignore it. That would be reserved for the moment she had to get up and face the world again. Maybe, if only she laid here long enough, she would drift back off again. It was a safe thought and Kate found herself longing for it. If only she could fall back asleep, then maybe all the pain would have miraculously disappeared by the time she woke up again.

She tried to find a slightly more comfortable position, but she was unable to find one. Light tried to come through her eyelids, in spite of them being closed. She turned her head towards the weight on her shoulder, hoping to use that to block out the light that was dragging her ever closer to the waking world, the one place she didn’t want to be.

It was only when her head had already been half turned towards that weight when she realised what was wrong. It was too light. It couldn’t be this light. They were still in Mirkwood. The trees here stood so close to each other that there was no way the light could have come through the leaves. The filtered half-light, yes, that could reach this place, but not the bright light of day, no, that could not. And they were nowhere near the end of the woods yet. Only a day or two ago Thorin had told her he believed them to be halfway through.

Yet the fact remained that this was daylight that was trying to keep her from going back to sleep again. Her curiosity got the better of her. She had to know and so she forced her eyes open, only to find herself staring at a rock ceiling. A closer inspection learned that she was lying in some sort of cave, even if that sounded like a bit of an exaggeration. It was more of a rock floor with a rock ceiling overhead.

But her closest surroundings were not all that important to her now. It was the space outside the cave that got her attention now. The trees had gone. Here and there were stumps to be seen, but they were burned black. The same was true for the ground and the parts that she could not see where covered with ash. The air was thick with smoke and ash mingled together, but the light of the sun could pierce through it now.

The memories hit her with the force of a bomb explosion as her mind shed the last of its confusion and sleep. It all came back to her now: the orcs, the fire, the fight. That was the point where things started to become hazy again. Kate remembered she had been injured and Thorin featured somewhere in that memory as well, but she must have passed out shortly after. It at least explained why her left shoulder and arm hurt so badly. It did however not explain how she had come to be here or why she was even still alive. Last time she checked she had been all but suffocating on the smoke and even if that miraculously had not killed her, then by all rights the blazing fire should have.

But here she was, alive and more or less in one piece. Yes, her shoulder and arm hurt like hell – not too much of a surprise since she’d been through one – and breathing was a torment in and out of itself, but she was still alive and that was more than she had dared to hope for. It was a lot to be grateful for, even if she still did not understand how she had come to be in this shelter.

Her attention shifted towards the weight on her shoulder. That almost made her heart stop. Kate could not say what it was she had expected to find there, but she was quite convinced that Thorin’s head had not been on the list. But whether it had been on the list or not, it was the dwarf king’s head resting there. Kate hardly dared to move, but a quick glance learned her that the weight on her stomach was in fact nothing less than his royal left arm.

Thorin’s face was troubled, even in sleep. It almost looked as if he had been crying, but she dismissed that foolish thought immediately. Thorin would rather die than show weakness. He didn’t cry. And it was hard to say for real anyway, because his face was a mess. He had a wound on his forehead. The blood had dried up now, but it now stuck to his hair and skin, making it look a whole lot worse than it probably was.

An alarming thought made it through to her head. Where were the others? Were the two of them the only ones left of their company or had their friends found a safe hiding place as well? She didn’t know and as long as she was stuck here, serving as a glorified pillow for a certain dwarf, she wasn’t going to go anywhere in a hurry either. She could always shove him off her, but something told her he would not thank her for that. He was probably unlikely to be pleased with the current sleeping arrangements. That was bound to be awkward when he woke.

 _Will you please get a sodding grip on yourself?_ common sense scolded her the next second. _Your friends could be dead and you worry about what Thorin is going to think when he wakes? Sort out your priorities!_

It was right of course. If the others still lived there would be more than enough time to worry about such trivial matters. That time however was not now and lying here all day wasn’t going to do them any favours either. So she lifted her left arm – her right was stuck between her body and Thorin’s – and ignored the burning pain that movement caused her. She tried to bite back the tears and the scream that was dying to escape and touched his shoulder.

‘Thorin, wake up.’ It sounded insane and rather cliché, but it would have to do.

And, as it turned out, she didn’t need to do more. Maybe it was some kind of warrior instinct, but the moment she touched him, his eyes flew open. His hand had grasped her left wrist in some sort of warrior instinct before he had even realised it was her. Kate had let out a muffled cry before she could stop herself. The sudden movement made the pain shoot through her arm, intensifying the burning pain in tenfold.

‘Never do that again,’ the dwarf told her in a cold voice.

‘Gladly,’ Kate moaned. ‘Thorin, can you let go?’ He was squeezing too hard again – no surprise there – but he was also pulling and that was what hurt so badly. ‘I think there’s something wrong with my left arm,’ she confessed, not making that confession willingly, but keeping quiet about such an injury would do her no favours in the long run.

The dwarf sat up in one fluent motion, the cold leaving his eyes, for which the advisor was grateful. ‘You are hurt.’ It wasn’t a question, more of a realisation of something he had known, but since forgotten.

‘A sword wound,’ she reported, deciding to leave the breathing troubles out of it. Every breath still hurt and it was likely to continue to do so for some time, but she could work with it. And she was not about to burden her friend with problems neither of them could do anything about. When they had started on this quest she would have done such a thing, but they had come a long way since then and she was no longer that loud-mouthed aspiring journalist. She was not a girl anymore. She was a grown woman now and she should act accordingly. In this harsh place there was no room for naïve girls. ‘And something else fell on it just before I passed out, but I don’t know what.’

‘A burning branch,’ Thorin replied curtly. ‘Let me see.’ His tone was as gruff and unsociable as she had ever heard it and she wondered if there was something she had done that had caused him to sound like that. Or was it just the natural result of having suffered through such a hell, which, come to think of it, was partly her fault?

‘Thorin, I am sorry,’ she began, biting on her lip. ‘Had I known what I unleashed, I would never have done it…’

He cut her off. ‘I do not blame you,’ he told her sternly. ‘And you should not blame yourself.’

Kate could only shoot him a puzzled look. She had sat up now, so if she looked right ahead she could look right into his eyes. But they yielded none of their owner’s secrets. Kate had not really expected them to, but it would have been nice to get an insight in the workings of his mind just now. At the moment she had no idea what he was thinking. And she wanted to know what he was thinking, because it didn’t make any sense why he would not blame her. All their companions could have perished in that fire of hers and he was not blaming her? Had he lost his mind in the time that she was out?

‘Why?’ It seemed like the only thing she could ask.

Thorin had been looking at her wound, but now his gaze met hers steadily. ‘We might have died either way.’ Something in his tone told her that he was thinking like he was for reasons as of yet unspecified.

‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’ It was a simple conclusion, but one that made her fear the answer as well. This was unlikely to be good and Kate wasn’t even sure she wanted to hear what it was he was keeping from her. _That’s childish behaviour. You’re not a child anymore, so get a freaking grip_. Pleasant or not – with the latter being the most likely – she had a need to know. ‘Thorin?’

Thorin tried to avoid the question by removing the cloth from her shirt from the wound, making Kate hiss in pain. The left sleeve was already reduced to a first class rag, thanks to a certain orc’s cutting abilities, but the blood had glued the remaining fabric to the cut and even though she could tell Thorin was trying to be gentle, it hurt when he was trying to remove it.

‘I apologise for hurting you,’ was the response she got. ‘But it has to be done.’

‘I know.’ Kate’s reply came out from between clenched teeth as she strengthened her resolve not to cry. She was not a child anymore and she could handle the pain. If she told herself this long enough, she might will it to be true. And Thorin did need to do something about her injury. If he didn’t it could infect and that would be much more disastrous. It did not change the fact that she suspected Thorin was only keeping his eyes on the wound because he was avoiding her eyes for some reason she did not yet understand. He was keeping something from her and the notion of that only grew as time passed. ‘How bad is it?’ She decided to let him off the hook for the time being. She could hardly think anyway now that he was seeing to the wound, making the advisor want to scream in agony the moment he laid as much as a finger on it.

‘You’ll live.’ The statement was accompanied by the removal of the last of the sleeve.

Kate had let out a cry before she could stop herself. ‘Damn it, Thorin.’ The burning pain shot up her arm, making her eyes tear before she could even begin to check it. She could not even remember when or even if she had last felt so badly. The pain made her want to throw up or want to scream, or both. ‘You make it sound so bloody reassuring right now.’ She knew her language was likely to offend him, but just this once she could not bring herself to care.

There was something he was not telling her, but for now she was content to wait until he was done seeing to her wound. And it was rather obvious that he was not some kind of physician. He did his best, but it still hurt as hell and Kate was quite sure that at least that wound the blade had caused was supposed to be stitched up, but neither of them knew how to do that. That was what Óin was for in the company. Kate bit her lip as she remembered that he may very well be dead. No, he had to live, they all had to. Maybe they too had found some kind of shelter somewhere before it was too late. She would force herself to believe that until someone could prove that it wasn’t so.

 _Since when are you such an optimist?_ that little voice in the back of her head wondered.

 _Since I’d go crazy otherwise_ , she bit back at it.

Thorin made her a sling to put her left arm through after he had bandaged the injury with what at some point in time must have been a shirt. Well, this was hardly the time to be sentimental about clothes. They had other and better things to concern themselves with. Such as the things her friend was not telling her at the moment. And the longer the silence lingered, the more convinced Kate became that it was something disastrous. Not for the first time she regretted having passed out in the middle of the fight. Had she been awake, she might have known what happened. But wishing would not do her any good now. She would have to get it from the horse’s mouth. And as it was, said mouth was unlikely to open of its own volition.

‘What is it you’re not telling me?’ she demanded the moment the dwarf king leaned back against the meagre wall of their shelter. Beating around the bush would not get her the answers she wanted and needed, so she’d better get down to it right away. ‘What happened when I was so bloody inconveniently unconscious?’ The tension made her sound snappy and irritable, which she probably was. There was something very unnerving about Thorin being so silent. He was quiet often enough, but there was always something dignified about it. This was in no way a dignified silence.

Kate took a moment to study his face. Apart from the mess the blood had made he looked… well, haunted was the word, she supposed. And that sent another shiver down her spine. Something was terribly wrong and that something was quite possibly related to what had happened when she had set the forest alight. She had only seen him look like this once before and that was after he had read the book. That was not exactly a good sign either.

‘Thorin?’ she urged softly, her voice barely above a whisper for reasons she could not quite comprehend.

The barest hint of a smile graced his face. It didn’t escape the advisor’s notice that his eyes didn’t join in. ‘Are you trying to be a social worker?’ he wondered.

But Kate was not in the mood for jokes. The longer he evaded the question, the more worried she became. If he didn’t tell her, it could only be something so terrible he did not want her to know and that was not reassuring at all. Quite the contrary, it scared the living daylights out of her.

 _Your fault, your fault_. Her mind kept up a constant mantra, as if she was ever in danger of forgetting that this nightmare was of her own making anytime soon. Kate didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget. It was too horrible. And it was all her fault. Had she not commanded Bilbo to set fire to this cursed forest, none of this would have happened. They might have been able to get out with just the shooting. That surely would have taken out the worst orcs and the wargs, after which killing the remaining force should have been child’s play. What on earth had she been thinking, trying to think of a plan to get them out of that tight spot? If anything, she had only made things worse and she was all too aware of that. And therefore every death in their company was on her conscience. The thought made her want to throw up with self-disgust.

All this made her snappy. ‘Will you just spit it out already?’ she all but growled at the dwarf. ‘What the bloody hell happened?’ Part of her did not want to know at all, but that was cowardly. And at any rate, not knowing was worse.

‘Azog.’ It was only one word, but the tone of voice in which the name was spoken and the word itself made it perfectly clear that something about that encounter had not gone quite according to plan. It wasn’t too much of a surprise, but it was still worse than Kate had anticipated.

She gave him a quick once over, checking for injuries, but apart from the blood on his face there didn’t seem to be anything. He had made it out in a better condition than last time and that was something to be grateful for at least. ‘What…?’ she began to ask.

Thorin cut her off. ‘He died.’ His fists clenched, but he was looking at a point somewhere left of Kate’s head. For some reason she did not think his anger was directed at her. That was a relief, if not a very big one. Thorin was curt and snappy often enough, but something was different this time. She could almost taste the pain that was barely concealed underneath the anger.

‘That isn’t all that happened.’ Kate decided not to phrase it as a question, but rather as a conclusion. Thorin ought to have been glad that his sworn enemy had gone, but there did not even seem to be relief. And this wasn’t just the worry about his men, Kate could tell. This was something else entirely. This looked more like a man in mourning than anything else.

She had hardly made that observation when she saw a sight she had never ever seen before. A tear escaped from Thorin’s eyes. Her observation had been right.

Kate felt as if she had swallowed a glacier whole. She had gone all cold inside. Not even the burning in the wound on her shoulder distracted her from that now. ‘Who?’ The whisper must be hardly audible, but Thorin had heard her nonetheless. He looked up at her. The combination of grief and anger she saw in those eyes made Kate’s heart clench and she had to swallow, hard, to get a grip on herself.

It wasn’t any use though. She broke down herself when Thorin answered. ‘Fíli and Kíli.’

 

***

 

Thorin Oakenshield did not cry. It was an unspoken rule and he lived by it. His grandfather had once, when he was only a boy, told him that he could never show weakness. Crying was a sign of weakness. He could never be seen to do that and so he had taught himself to find other ways to deal with the pain.

When Smaug had taken Erebor, he had reacted with anger. The elves had abandoned them and that gave him a good reason to feel the fury, allow it to overwhelm him so it would drown out the pain and the grief. It had helped him live through that first horrible few months.

When Azog had slain Thrór at Azanulbizar he had reacted with revenge. Caving in to the grief in the middle of a battle would have done him no good and in any case it was better to take it out on the one who was to blame for his loss in the first place. Revenge on Azog had kept him from losing his mind then and the knowledge – however untrue – that he had avenged his grandfather had given him some measure of relief.

When his father had gone missing, Thorin had been close to losing the battle against the tears. But there was still an entire people looking to him for guidance and he could simply not afford to break down. He was their king and they needed to put their faith in him or they would all be lost. His responsibilities kept him busy from dawn till dusk so that when he fell asleep at night, he was so exhausted there was simply no time left to let his mind dwell on his father’s unknown fate. And time had proven to be the greatest healer. It did not became any easier to bear, but he got used to it, learned to live with it. He simply had to.

But now his sister-sons had been murdered, none of his strategies seemed to be of any use. He had tried revenge and that had been successful. Azog was dead, gone from this world. He would never harm another person again. Thorin had finished what he had begun at Azanulbizar. But it did not give him the relief he had been hoping for. And anger was of no use now either. There was no one left to be angry with. He had slain the one responsible and any amount of fury he may now feel was futile.

Thorin supposed he could seek solace in his responsibilities. His men may still be out there somewhere. They may have survived the inferno. It was not impossible. He had found a shelter, the others might have as well. Mirkwood had a lot of places like these. There was a reasonable chance they had found them and in that case it was his responsibility to find them and lead them as far away from here as he could. And even if by some chance Kate and Thorin were the sole survivors, he was still responsible for her, especially now that she was wounded. It just didn’t seem more important than the loss of his sister-sons. Nothing seemed more important than that.

They had been under his protection. Dís had entrusted them to him, had made him swear that he would do whatever it took to keep them safe, to keep them alive. He had failed both her and her sons. _How does it feel, knowing that you were not there to save them?_ Fíli and Kíli had been all alone. No one had been there to come to their aid. When the end had come for them, they had been on their own, despite Thorin’s vow to be there. _Knowing that they screamed your name as I ran them through?_ His mind was all too eager to provide him with the picture of that event. No matter how courageous his lads had been, anyone would have voiced their panic. Thorin himself would not have been able to keep quiet. He could picture their faces, panic written over their faces, mingled with fear as Azog’s blade pierced them. _Knowing that there was such desperation in their eyes when they realised you had abandoned them?_ This too he could picture without any effort. He could see his sister-sons, lying on the forest floor, fear in their eyes as they realised that no one would be coming for them, that this truly was the end and there was nothing anyone could do for them. _Knowing that they died alone, begging for your help?_

Azog’s taunting words kept echoing through his head. His fists clenched and now the battle against the tears was well and truly lost. He had failed and the weight of his failure was weighing down heavily on him. He had known that this quest would be dangerous, even more so after he had read Kate’s book. He had known that not all of them would live to see it completed. It was the risk of the mission, but never once had he truly been open to the possibility of Fíli and Kíli dying, and certainly not in such a manner. It hurt too much and it hurt to know that nothing he could have done could have stopped this. Because who was to say Azog would not have found them anyway? The Defiler had been what Kate called hell-bent on their destruction. Had he not found them here, he would have caught up to them later.

Maybe that was why he could not blame Kate for the inferno. It was obvious that she did blame herself. It was on her face for all with eyes to see. The pain and the shame there were unlikely the result of the ugly-looking mess the orc and the burning branch had made of her left arm. For both of them their injuries did not seem too important anymore, not when there were so many other things to be concerned about.

He looked down at his fists, inwardly cursing his own inability to keep everyone safe as he had promised himself he would do. His men had entrusted their fate to him, had been willing to give up everything for this quest, even though many of them had never laid eyes on the Mountain themselves. They had followed a story, a leader. None of them had been dreaming of Erebor like he had done. And for that very reason Thorin owed it to them to make sure that they came home again. Instead of home he had led them to their end.

His vision was swimming with tears he tried and failed to bite back. Thorin avoided looking at his companion. He could not bear to face her in that moment of weakness. She may be a little different from the others, but she too looked to him for leadership, even when she threw his commands to the wind whenever it suited her. She could not see him cry. Kate was already frail, at the moment in both mind and body, and he did not need to give her a reason to break down entirely.

And because he wasn’t looking, he missed out on the hand that was put on his shoulder and then squeezed it in a somewhat reassuring manner. He looked up, not sure what he expected to find. He found Kate’s face, a lot closer to him than he would have been comfortable with in normal situations. But this was not a normal situation. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, which was an alarming development in and out of itself.

‘I’m sorry.’ The words were barely more than a whisper. The advisor bit her lip and Thorin saw that tears were forming in her eyes as well. He wanted to bang his head against something for being as stupid as to forget that Fíli and Kíli had been her friends, good friends. Her grief could not be, could never be, as strong as Thorin’s own, but she too had suffered a loss. ‘Oh, my God, Thorin, I’m so sorry.’ The tears started trickling down her cheeks and unlike Thorin, Kate did not even try to hold them back. ‘I wish there was something I could have done…’ Her voice trailed off.

Under any other circumstance Thorin would have found the very notion of Kate standing up to a huge Gundabad orc laughable, but not today. Today her words were a strange comfort, a notion that she truly would have done something if only she had been there. Because her words were genuine. Only a fool would not hear that.

‘There was nothing you could have done.’ And neither could any of them. No matter how much he wished he had been there, when it came down to it Thorin knew that nothing could have been done. It was the nature of the fight. He could not have done anything else. Had he done that he would have died himself long before he would have been able to get to his sister-sons. There had been too many orcs between them. To try and fight his way through would have been the death of him and presumably Kate as well. It was as frustrating as it was true.

Kate bit her lip again, so hard it actually started bleeding. ‘It doesn’t change the fact that I would have wanted to be there.’ Her eyes were still teary and her voice still sad, but when she met Thorin’s eyes he could see anger underneath the sadness. Frustration, he would call it, and there was still the shame as well. Mahal, had that woman still not realised that this might have been the way it turned out even if she had not ordered the halfling to start the fire?

Kate studied his face. Thorin did not know what it was that she saw there, but he did know it made him nervous. His mask of habitual calm had gotten lost sometime during the fight, around the point where Azog had so cheerfully informed him of his nephews’ deaths, and he did not like it that Kate could now read his face as if it was that cursed book of hers. It was almost impossible to hide anything at the present time.

But whatever it was that she would do with what she found on his face, that was something Thorin did not have an answer to and in his present state he did not mind that at all. He could not care about what it was that she did. Doubtlessly he would mind later, but not now.

Kate’s actions however came as a surprise. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then the well-known what-do-I-care-for-the-consequences-expression appeared on her face. Her right hand, that was still positioned on his left shoulder, travelled a little further down his back and before he could even begin to figure out the meaning of that he was pulled into an one-armed embrace. He stiffened for a moment, not sure what to do with something that unfamiliar. He wasn’t the one to be embraced and he wasn’t the dwarf to embrace others either. He stood on his own and kept others at a distance. He could handle his grief and pain alone.

Or that was what he told himself, because clearly today he could not. He had already lost control over himself enough for Kate to notice. She already knew, or at the very least guessed, how much this loss was affecting him. And what did it even matter? The two of them could be the last ones alive. And even if they were not, nothing was further from his mind now than his reputation.

Kate had felt his unease and was already starting to pull back. Thorin made a spur of the moment decision and stopped her from going entirely by returning the embrace, pulling her a little closer. With both of them still sitting it was not the best position, but the dwarf could, at least for now, not care less. And although he would never admit this when called on, he drew strength from the physical closeness of another living person, especially since that person seemed to know what was going on inside his head and had seemed to know what he needed most before he had even known it himself. It was a strange experience and not one he thought they would ever repeat once they left this shelter. For some reason this little sanctuary did not seem to be a part of the real world. It just existed, almost outside time itself. Once they left it he would need to be strong again, but not just yet.

It was strange, he realised as he felt Kate’s head on his shoulder, that Kate Andrews of all people should be the one to comfort him in such a manner. He could not even begin to understand why she had been the one he had shown such weakness to in the first place. But somehow it had happened and he did not even feel as ashamed of it as he probably should. Something about it seemed natural. Maybe it was just because they were friends and maybe it was just because he was not capable of caring about anything just yet.

Time passed and in hindsight Thorin would never be able to tell just how much. No words were spoken. Save for the sound of their breathing it was quiet. With their immediate environment burned there was no sound of anything living at all reaching them. For some reason Thorin sensed that Kate was drawing strength from his presence as much as he was from hers. It was a reassurance in a way.

‘We need to get moving, don’t we?’ Kate asked when eventually they let go of one another.

Thorin nodded. ‘Some of the others may yet be alive.’

The hesitance he had seen in the advisor’s eyes only seconds before made way for determination. ‘Right.’ She reached for her bag and tried to get to her feet, hissing sharply when she made a wrong move. ‘Shit!’

Thorin followed her example, helping her to her feet and taking her bag from her without asking for permission. The way her arm was, she would not be able to carry it properly. The grief for Fíli and Kíli had not lessened, not at least, but now that he had a purpose he could at least think around it. And he needed to do something, or he’d lose his mind. With at least still one other person depending on him, he could not allow himself to break down. That he had done so already was a grave mistake.

‘I can handle it, Thorin,’ Kate told him. Her tone was a little snappy and Thorin understood where that was coming from. The advisor hated being weak when she had worked so long to prove that she in fact wasn’t.

And the dwarf did not think her weak. She may lack bodily strength, but she made up for it in strength of mind, something he had come to appreciate her for. But right now she was injured and gravely so. ‘Sit,’ he told her. ‘I’ll have a look around.’ If Óin was still alive he would scold him for letting the advisor move in her current condition and rightly so.

He was rewarded with Kate’s most dismissive glare. ‘Like hell I’m not!’ she snapped, walking out of the shelter to demonstrate the point. Her eyes silently pleaded with him. ‘Please, Thorin. If I won’t do something, I think I’d go mad.’

Thorin could not help but frown at those last words. How strange that the woman thought along the same lines as he himself did. But at any rate he could not reasonably deny her wish now, not when he could understand so well what it was that she felt. He could not be able to bear to be left behind either with only his thoughts for company. They weren’t happy thoughts and he would do almost anything not to have to listen to them.

He gave a curt nod and extended his hand to her. Kate eyes it warily. ‘What is that supposed to be for?’

Thorin remembered Rivendell when she had reacted to the offered help with almost the exact same look. ‘Lean on me,’ he told her.

Kate’s snappiness resurfaced almost immediately. ‘My arm is hurt, not my leg.’

 _I know_. Thorin ignored her all the same and slipped his arm around her waist, realising once again how fragile she was. It was a miracle such a woman had survived such a fierce fight.

‘You’re so bloody bossy,’ Kate grumbled, but she didn’t voice any other protests, letting him guide her away from the shelter without even trying to break free, which was a novelty. Thorin could not even tell why he offered her help when it was clear that she did not need it. He told himself it had nothing to do whatsoever with the comfort her touch had been just now. If Kíli had still been alive he would have used this as a confirmation for his longstanding suspicions about the two of them. If only Kíli were here to make those cursed suggestions of his. Thorin would have welcomed them, thanked Kíli for it even.

Kate did turn out to have some trouble walking. She must have twisted her ankle slightly at some point, but neither of them commented on it. They had retreated into their own heads. Thorin recognised the distant look in Kate’s eyes she always had when her thoughts were miles away.

The forest was gone. It just was not there anymore. For miles and miles the only thing to be seen was blackened earth and scorched tree stumps. Only on the far horizons was still be forest left. Thorin could not see either fire or smoke there, so he presumed that at some time the fire must have died down, even if he did not know how that was possible. Neither did he care. He just took it for a fact.

The road was still more or less recognisable. It had always been a little higher than the rest of the forest and there had not been many things on it the fire could consume. He guided them back onto it, because it was easier and they would be able to walk faster on it. And he wanted to get back to the attack scene first, to find some clues, should there still be any. He had never been much of a tracker and tracks never yielded many secrets to him, but he would be grateful for even the smallest of clues now. And besides, where else should he go?

Kate walked, or rather hopped, along beside him, not saying anything. At the moment he could not even begin to guess at her thoughts, but he didn’t think anything escaped her notice at the moment. She saw everything. And she was also the one to nudge him softly in the ribs. ‘Thorin, I think I see movement over there.’ She pointed to a large rock that was slightly off the road somewhere ahead of them.

Thorin’s hand crept towards Orcrist of its own volition. He did not hope so, but it could be that some orcs had survived as well. Fire did not care if it took orcs or dwarves. It consumed both races with equal enthusiasm. Only then did his gaze follow Kate’s finger to the place she had indicated.

At first there was nothing, but then he saw it too. Movement somewhere behind the rock. Someone was there and that someone was still alive and well enough to walk around. He could only see the top of a head and nothing more until the person appeared from behind the boulder.

And then Thorin recognised. ‘Dwalin!’ He had called the name without giving himself permission to do so. It was a foolish thing to shout out loud in an environment that may still be harbouring enemies, but for just this once the relief won out over his caution. There was at least one other yet living. It was more than he had any right to hope for. He increased his pace, more or less dragging Kate with him, but the woman did not seem to care this time. She hopped along as well as she could.

Dwalin’s head swivelled in their direction and they were now close enough to see the relieved grin on his face as he marched over to them. ‘Mahal, Thorin, it is good to see you.’ The warrior had never been a man of many words, but the relief was obvious to anyone with ears to hear it. ‘We had thought you lost.’

We. Plural. There were more still alive. Mahal be praised. It took him all his willpower not to crumble there and then with the sheer relief of it all. Instead he conjured up his mask of calm, giving his friend a curt, but friendly nod as Dwalin clasped his right arm in warrior greeting. ‘We are alive,’ he said.

Dwalin’s gaze went to Kate, or, more specifically, Kate’s arm. ‘What happened to you?’ The tone was gruff, but there did seem to be some genuine concern. The two of them had never liked one another, but they had struck a truce some weeks ago, for which Thorin was grateful.

Kate frowned. ‘Orc’s blade and burning branch,’ she reported. ‘Bloody orcs,’ she added, muttering under her breath.

Dwalin guffawed. ‘That’s orcs for you, lass.’ The relief had definitely made him more talkative than Thorin had seen him in a long while. And that without the help of alcohol. ‘Better let Óin take a look at that before it infects.’ He hardly gave king and advisor the time to process that the company medic had made it through as well, before he looked over his shoulder and bellowed: ‘Fíli, Kíli, come on, give me a hand! The advisor is injured.’

Thorin froze in place, eyes fixed on the boulder from behind which now two familiar figures appeared. He had believed them dead, had believed Azog had brutally murdered them, but here they were, alive and seemingly uninjured. He had to swallow hard to get a grip on himself. This was more than he could ever have hoped for. His hands were trembling, but fortunately for him both Dwalin and Kate had the decency not to notice.

It was not a conscious act when he let go of Kate when his sister-sons approached. Neither was it a conscious act to haul both of them in a bear-like hug before they had the chance to realise what happened. For now he needed to feel them, feel that they were alive and that Azog had indeed lied. He had believed the Defiler, never doubting that he had spoken the truth. Never in all his life had he been so grateful that he had been wrong.

Fíli and Kíli did not protest the treatment, nor did they comment on it. This was something that went without words. And it was good that way. They understood each other anyway.

‘Mahal be praised,’ he muttered when he let them go eventually.

‘Never knew you were that fond of us,’ Kíli quipped. The tone was light and teasing, but Thorin could feel more than he could hear that all three of them were glad to be reunited. Apparently Thorin did not have the monopoly on worrying about his family, no matter how strange the notion. At the same time he regretted the circumstances that made it necessary for such young dwarves to worry to such an extent.

‘I’ve always been.’ Like Kate would say, to hell with propriety and decorum. They had lived through an orc attack and the biggest forest fire Middle Earth had witnessed in ages. They could be allowed to let down their guards for just a little while. But not for too long and so he turned back to Dwalin. ‘How many did we lose?’ He could not allow his relief to override his responsibilities as a leader. He still had a duty towards his company.

Dwalin’s face had been more or less relaxed, but the serious expression crept back on it before the last word had left Thorin’s mouth. ‘Only one,’ he reported. ‘And he is yet unaccounted for.’

Only one. It should be a relief and the fact that he was still unaccounted for could mean he was still alive and hiding somewhere, but Thorin could not help but feel a cold shiver go down his spine.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _One missing is still one too many. Good heavens, what have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope that will put all your nerves at rest a bit! This chapter had been written before I published the previous, so it never was going to end this tragically.   
> Next chapter should be up next Sunday, but after that this chapter will go back to being updated twice a week. I should be able to finish my other story within that time period.  
> In the meantime, I’d love to hear what you think about this chapter. Please comment?


	42. Coping

_As Dwalin guided us back to the hide-out the rest of the company was currently using, he quickly filled us in on what we had been missing. Most of the dwarves had taken to hiding in that shelter, very much like the one Thorin and I had been using, including Bilbo, as soon as the fight on the road had ended with the death of the last orc they had been able to find. Only Balin and Bombur had hidden in another cave-like shelter on the other side of the road, but they had joined the others as soon as the fire had gone out. That had, for them, only left Bifur, Thorin and me left as missing. Thorin and I had turned up, Bifur had not._

_I could see Thorin’s face darken. The past few months had taught me that your father took his responsibilities as a leader far more serious than I would have thought when I joined the company and I could tell he held himself responsible._

_At least he was not alone in that. I held myself responsible for Bifur going missing. I know better now, but at that moment I did not and I had no reservations about blaming myself. Kíli kindly advised me to shut up, an expression he had stolen from me in the first place, so naturally it didn’t work at all. He was still stronger than I was though and so he led me to Óin with a firm hand. My protests that my injuries could wait and that I should join the search party the others were now organising fell on deaf ears, literally so, I might say. Óin either did not hear me or pretended he did not – I really do have some suspicions about that hearing problem of his, since he always reacted well enough whenever Bombur announced that the food was ready – ordering me to sit down and let him do his job. The fact that Dori physically held me down might have something to do with the fact that I actually did what I was told._

_But I felt like sitting on a hedgehog. Thorin had taken everyone who was not in some way injured to search for Bifur, hoping that he was still alive somewhere. I didn’t even fully notice what Óin was doing. Well, I did feel it, but it ceased to be of importance. I had too many other things to be concerned about._

_I think that’s actually the worst. It isn’t the fight, because during a fight you’re just too preoccupied to think about the fate of your comrades. You’re doing something to protect them and if you’re not, you’re too busy trying to keep yourself alive. I think it’s the aftermath that’s the worst. My mind was working overtime, imagining all kinds of worst case scenarios as Óin stitched me up, muttering under his breath that I really ought to be more careful. I told him he should just tell the orcs to back off. The company medic pretended not to hear me._

_Time passed, but it passed slowly. Still, it can’t have been that much later when the search party returned. The looks on their faces told me everything I did not want to know…_

 

Kate knew the search party wasn’t returning with good news. There had been no chance of that, not really. Still, she could hope and that was what she had been doing ever since Dwalin had said that Bifur was still missing. He could be sleeping in some shelter they had not yet seen. He could have been wounded, in which case he could still be unconscious. Or he could have wandered off on his own in search of the others, having believed that they had moved on already. There were a number of reasons why they had not yet located him, but when the group entered again, her hopes were crushed.

Dwalin bore a sombre expression, one that did not seem to suit him at all, and Thorin’s was very much alike. Fíli and Kíli were unusually quiet. Bofur was trying to hide the evidence of his distress, but his eyes were red and swollen and Kate could see a tear trickling down one of his cheeks and into his beard. The companions who had stayed in the shelter, most of whom were in some way injured, only had to see this sight to know what news it was the search party brought.

‘He’s gone.’ It was Thorin who broke the news in his usual curt way of speaking. There was anger in his voice, the kind that told everyone with ears to hear that he personally wanted to throttle someone and then revive them to kill them all over again.

Bombur’s usually cheerful expression had turned to an expression so sad that Kate would have started to cry if she had not been doing that already. As it was, the tears were already trickling down her cheeks, no matter how hard she tried to bite them back. _My fault, all my fault_. Why in the name of all that was holy had she ever come up with this stupid, stupid idea? Now Bifur was dead and she was responsible.

Kate had never been close with Bombur’s cousin. It had been difficult for anyone to be very close to Bifur. Hardly anyone seemed to understand him and he had certain habits that had might seem strange and bewildering and that tended to put people off. To her eternal shame Kate too had kept him at arm’s length at the start of the journey. Nevertheless the dwarf with the axe stuck in his head had been one of the few dwarves to be kind to her ever since he had met her and that was worth a good deal. He had strange ways of showing it and at first she had not realised at all that those kind gestures were of his making to begin with. Sometimes she would find that one of her chores had already been taken care of or she would find a flower or a curiously shaped stone on her makeshift pillow when she woke. Bifur had been kind to her and she had never properly thanked him for it. And now it would be too late to thank him for anything.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, dear God, I’m so sorry.’ _My fault, my fault_. She could feel that she was trembling and the voices talking around her sounded as if they were coming from afar, not from anywhere near her at all. _My fault, my fault_. The mantra was drowning out all the other sounds.

‘I think she’s in shock,’ someone said. It could have been Dori and he sounded like he was panicking. Somehow though it did not seem to matter much. It did not seem to matter at all.

‘Slap her,’ someone else advised.

Yet someone else growled low in their throat. ‘Act on that and I’ll…’

This person was interrupted. ‘Thorin, we need to snap her out of this.’

‘Don’t you _dare_ think about it, Balin.’ The words were more of a snarl than a normal command.

Kate vaguely registered that they were talking about her, but this did not truly mean anything to her. Maybe she was in shock. If that was so, then it felt safer than being not in shock. In her current state of mind she could still feel all the guilt, but the recent events seemed almost surreal to her, as if they had never truly happened at all and that, at the present time, was a most welcome idea. Once she was snapped, or slapped, out of this, she would have face the consequences of her actions and she knew full well that she was not ready to do that.

Because no matter which way you chose to look at this, had she not started the fire, Bifur would still be alive. It was her hair-brained scheme that had cost that friendly if slightly weird dwarf his life. She did not understand why the others could not see that it was her fault. Thorin had already told her that she was not to blame for Bifur’s demise and the fact that Bofur and Bombur had not yet rounded on her was a hint that they did not blame her either.

The lack of reaction was a bit disturbing, actually. Kate had rather they would shout at her than that they worried about her. Shouting she could handle, but people telling her that something was not her fault, even when it so obviously was, she could not. Maybe they just didn’t know. Maybe Bilbo had not told them yet that it had been her idea to set fire to a forest in order to escape from their attackers. Of course the only thing she had succeeded in was making things ten times worse, if not more.

She was dragged back to the real world when someone suddenly yanked her from her spot on a rock and hauled her in a bear-like hug, very nearly crushing her. ‘What…?’ she meant to ask, but she found that every sound she tried to make was muffled by the presence of a huge red braided beard.

‘It’s not your fault, lass.’ The voice saying this belonged to Bombur, as she had half guessed already because of the presence of the beard. What she had not expected was for him to say these words to her, not so soon after learning his cousin had died as what may well be the result of what she had set in motion. Bombur was trying not to cry, but he was failing in that mission. Kate could almost hear the tears in his voice.

‘It is,’ she insisted. It wasn’t that she was so bloody keen on getting blamed, but it was the truth and she could not run away from it, no matter how much she wanted to. Running away had ceased to be an option the moment she had made this quest her own. From now on she would have to face the consequences of her actions. ‘Bombur, I told Bilbo to make the fire.’ She tried to wriggle out of his grasp so that she could face him, but winced when she twisted her arm as she did so. It was still very tender, burning and throbbing, but she could think around the pain, which was something. ‘If I hadn’t told him…’

‘It wasn’t the fire what killed him,’ a gruff voice interrupted.

Kate swivelled around to look at Dwalin. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

‘Get up,’ he told her. The tone of voice was still unfriendly. He reminded her a lot of Thorin in that moment. They had the same commanding tone when they wanted something done. But unlike Thorin Dwalin was not a dwarf to be disobeyed. When he commanded she did something, she had to do it.

‘No,’ Dori said. The fact that Kate was not questioning the warrior’s order was no guarantee that her older brother would not step in. Nori’s echoing ‘no’ followed just a second later. ‘Dwalin, she is my sister! You cannot…’

Dwalin only sent him a withering glance. ‘She needs it,’ was the curt reply.

Kate had lost track of what it was they were disagreeing about around the time Dori started to voice his protest. She wasn’t even sure she knew what Dwalin wanted her to get up for. It had to do with Bifur, that she could guess, but that was it.

‘Need what?’ she asked. She still was caught in Bombur’s hug, even though she had managed to turn around a little so she could follow what was going on around her. So far it had not been very enlightening.

Both of them ignored her. ‘Now see here,’ Dori began, one of those tell-tale signs that someone was about to find themselves on the receiving end of one of Dori’s lectures, the kind of lecture that would send most of the company running for the hills without as much as a second thought. ‘You cannot just go and show her something like that. Kate has been injured. She needs rest. If you upset her…’ His voice trailed off, leaving Dwalin to think about the consequences for himself. And if he got his way, then consequences there would be. Dori may seem like a gentle soul most of the time, but he matched the half-bald warrior when it came to bodily strength, a fact he was well aware of.

‘Dori, knock it off!’ The reaction was almost automatic for Kate, a reflex when she heard him trying to fight her battles for her, a fact that was only more annoying because she could not for the life of her tell what battle it even was that he was trying to fight on her behalf. It would surely be with the very best of intentions, but that did not change the fact that she had told him many times before that she wanted to fix her own problems.

Kate realised that no matter how irritating this was, it did distract her from things she did not want to feel. That made her almost grateful for the argument that was unfolding before her very eyes. If she was really honest, she relished any chance to forget about what had happened and her own, less than glorious, part in it.

Not that her protests were helping. ‘Look at her,’ Dwalin said, jerking his head in Kate’s direction. Both dwarves were still happily ignoring the advisor.

‘That’s what I’m doing,’ Dori shot back. ‘She should not be allowed to see such things. She is fragile enough as it is.’

It was the word fragile that did it, Kate knew. She hated being mollycoddled and if anything, Dori would mollycoddle her to death if only given half a chance. The advisor still was not sure about what Dwalin wanted with her, but it was bound to be better than Dori’s endless fussing about her health. His words may even be true – because yes, she was injured; the stinging in her shoulder was a rather painful reminder of that fact – but sitting here whining about it would not do her or the company any favours.

‘Bombur, let go,’ she said, no ordered. For just a second she did sound like Thorin, she supposed. He could conjure up a tone of voice just as icy and commanding as the one she was using now. But her command was not truly directed at the fat grieving dwarf. ‘And knock it off, Dori. I can stand up for myself should the need arise.’

Her brother didn’t like it. She didn’t need to hear him say it to know that. ‘Kate, you’re still injured.’ He used words to convey the message all the same.

‘My arm is,’ Kate agreed. ‘My legs are not.’ She had twisted her ankle sometime during the fight, even if she had no recollection of the event, but that didn’t count as injured. She could work around that. It took some effort, but she could at least hop around.

Dori looked a little flustered. ‘Then at least wait until I can come with you!’ Her eldest brother was currently being treated by Óin for some nasty burns on his legs and it was clear that he would not be allowed to stand up before Óin was fully satisfied.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Kate told him. Bombur had done as she asked and with some difficulty Kate tried to get back to her feet. She was in danger of falling right back on her bum when a hand grabbed her arm and steadied her. Maybe she should not have been surprised to find that the hand belonged to Thorin.

The dwarf king helped her find her feet and then slipped his left arm around Kate’s waist to support her. Kate could feel the eyes of the company on them and remembered just a little too late that for certain people this kind gesture symbolised something else entirely. But how could they even think of things like that in the present situation? They had lost a member of their company, a friend, even if it was not all that easy to communicate with him. Bifur had been one of them and now he was gone. And that was a shame, and also very much her fault. But no, instead of blaming her, they were speculating about her love life again. It made Kate want to scream and give them all a good kick in the behind.

Dori too was not pleased, of course for entirely different reasons. He was practically oozing disapproval and was apparently trying to stare Thorin into letting go of his little sister. Kate didn’t know what had brought this on, but it sure did annoy her.

Fortunately for her Thorin was not the type to simply be stared into obeying, not even by Dori. ‘I will take good care of your sister,’ he told him in a calm but stern voice, effectively smothering any protest Dori might have uttered.

To be honest he did not really wait for an answer either. He turned them around and guided Kate out of the shelter. Dwalin was leading, but he fell into step with them once they were out of earshot.

‘Where are we going?’ Kate did have her suspicions, but she did not see how that would be in any way helpful to them. And Dwalin had still not confirmed it. And of course while she had been busy trying to convince Dori that she was all right and could handle this, whatever this may be, without trouble, it had quite slipped her mind, because she had been too preoccupied getting away from his bloody fussing. But in a way she was grateful for all that fussing. It showed that he truly cared about her, which did give her a warm and pleasant feeling inside. But first and foremost it distracted her from her own thoughts and that, in the given circumstances, was like a gift from heaven. One day she might tell Dori that, but for now she would just keep it to herself. This wasn’t the kind of information shared with everyone.

Dwalin pretended he did not hear her. It was an art he had perfected during training whenever Kate was voicing her displeasure with his teaching methods at what might well be called the top of her lungs. He just directed them to what appeared to be a smoking pile. Kate’s stomach clenched when she realised what exactly it was that he was showing her.

‘Dear God,’ she whispered. The nausea kicked in the instant the realisation reached her mind. What on earth did Dwalin think to achieve by showing this to her? What did he think he was doing?

But that could wait. Kate’s stomach turned and she doubled over, vomiting. It was the same reaction she’d had in the deeps of Goblin-town when she had seen the attack scene, broken and maimed bodies all dotting the floor as if someone had casually dropped them all over the place. This however was not done casually. This pile had been created by either dwarves or orcs. Kate could not tell and did not care. There were at least five bodies piled up, including their armour and other belongings. Of course they were now all badly burned and not even recognisable anymore. Kate only knew it were orcs because everyone, except one, of their company was still alive. She might not have known it otherwise.

‘Not a pleasant sight,’ Dwalin agreed. He pretended not to notice the fact that Kate had thrown up not half a meter away from him. Kate preferred that and strangely enough he had been the one to understand why she had reacted as she did in Goblin-town as well. Maybe that warrior did have a softer side hidden somewhere after all. ‘Come on, lass.’

‘You want to show me a pile of burned bodies?’ Kate could scarcely keep the incredulous tone out of her voice. ‘Well, if that’s the case, you just did it. Can we go now?’ She didn’t know what Dwalin thought to achieve by doing this, but she did know that for some reason it scared her. She had thought he was taking her to Bifur’s remains, maybe so that she could pay her respects, see that he was really gone, apologise for doing what she had done. This came unexpected and she could not say that she appreciated it. Not at all.

Dwalin shook his head. ‘Come over here.’ If he was impressed by her anger at all, he certainly did not show it. But it would be safer to say that he was not impressed at all. That wasn’t like him after all.

Thorin had kept quiet since he had spoken to Dori. That was unnerving, but a quick sideward glance taught Kate that he had retreated into his own world. Still, he steered her in the right direction, so either he already knew where they were going or he was not as absent-minded as he appeared.

The dwarf king led her around the pile of bodies to a single body lying next to it. This body was badly burned. Clothes and hair had long since gone and the body itself was falling apart, blackened by the fire from top to toe. Still the flames had not been that fierce on this patch of road and they had not succeeded in turning this body, or the bodies on the pile for that matter, to ash entirely.

Still, there was no way the body could be identified, yet Kate strongly suspected that this was Bifur, but how they had reached that conclusion was anyone’s guess. The state this body was in made it uncertain that this even was a dwarf and not an orc.

‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ She hated that she had seemingly lost the ability to speak in anything louder than a whisper.

Dwalin nodded. ‘Aye.’

Kate forced herself to look again. At first she had averted her eyes as soon as she could, but if she was responsible for Bifur’s death, then she owed it to him to at the very least face the consequence of her actions. She had done this by ordering Bilbo to set the forest aflame. Running away from what she had done was the coward’s way out and she was not a coward, not anymore.

A second look taught her that there was a reason the search party had rightly assumed that this was Bifur. The body may be maimed by fire beyond recognition, but this corpse still had an axe embedded in his forehead. And that left no room for doubts. This was Bifur.

It was only then that something else started to register in Kate’s mind. The leftover from the axe that had been smashed into Bifur’s skull many years ago, was not the only thing residing in his head. There was another axe as well. The handle, probably made of wood, had burned away, but the steel itself had survived the inferno. And that steel was embedded so deeply in the head that it could not have been possible for the owner of said head to survive that blow.

The realisation of what this meant only slowly started seeping into Kate’s mind. Bifur had died in battle. It had not been the flames that had ended him. And this put a new meaning to the pile of bodies that had made her throw up. Those were the ones Bifur had killed before some orc had ended him. The dwarf had fought until his dying breath. The flames had only reached him when he had already breathed his last.

It was no less devastating that he had died, but for Kate it felt like some great weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. The relief washed over her in waves and she drowned in the feeling. She wanted to laugh until she could no longer breathe, she wanted to weep until all the tears had run out. This wasn’t her fault. The flames had only taken the lives of orcs. Her stupidity had not cost anyone their lives. Kate found that her knees could no longer carry her. She fell to the ground and wept.

 

***

 

The night was quiet, but not as dark as it had been while they were still in the forest itself. Technically they were of course still within the boundaries of the woods, but thanks to the advisor’s plan there no longer were any trees to block the light that came from moon and stars. Thorin was grateful for it. While he was a dwarf, by all rights belonging to a race that preferred to spend their lives underground and away from the light of day, he had not lived below the surface for many years, always on the road, looking for work. He had come to appreciate daylight then. It did not make him any less of a dwarf. To him it felt like an advantage that he was at home both above as below the ground.  It was a natural result of their long exile.

The company was asleep, lying close together for warmth, since a campfire was out of the question. Fíli had joked that Kate had made sure that there was a shortage of useable firewood all around. At first Thorin had been about to slap that comment down, but he found that it lightened the mood, just a little. There had been some chuckling and even Bombur had cracked a watery smile, while Kate had rolled her eyes at the joker. Thorin had kept his mouth shut.

He would not have allowed the use of a fire even if there had been wood though. They were out in the open, noticeable, and the forest fire was bound to have drawn some attention. The dwarf king could only hope that it had been the elves who had seen it and not the current resident of Dol Guldur. An encounter with elves was not something he found himself looking forward to, but it was preferable over a meeting with the Necromancer.

The best he could hope for was that the elves had believed everyone to have perished in the inferno. That would mean they would not go and look for survivors… or culprits. It would be even more difficult from now on to try and pass unnoticed. The best he could currently hope for was to follow the Men-i-Naugrim – the name Old Forest Road seemed irrelevant now since there no longer was any forest within a forty mile radius at the very least – and disappear back into the woods as quickly as they could, so that they at least were concealed from sight again. And from there it would be best if they travelled to the eastern border of the forest at all speed.

This was not what he had expected when he had decided to use this route to travel by, but it so far had turned out better than he had believed possible that very morning. Azog had gone and that had ended the feud that had been haunting him since Azanulbizar. It had ended and he should be glad of it. And he was, but not the kind of gladness he had expected to feel. It was more relief than joy. It was over. Azog would never haunt him again and if he didn’t, then his men would not do so either. They would be divided for a time and that meant that they would not bother anyone else for a while. It had been the same when Azog’s father had died. For some time the area around the Mountain had been blessedly free of orcs and their cursed raiding parties. When Azog had been injured at Azanulbizar it had been almost too easy for the dwarves to fight off their enemies. Now that Azog had died, things would be the same. Orcs could only fight when there was a strong leader to unite them and keep them in line.

His lips curled up slightly as he realised that his company had so far been responsible for the death of two enemy leaders: the Great Goblin and Azog the Defiler. It was a strange feeling as well. But with any luck that would mean that the Misty Mountains would be a little less dangerous for travellers than they usually were, at least until the orcs and goblins had chosen new leaders for themselves.

The night was silent. They had stayed at the shelter where most of his men had waited out the crisis. Most of them were in some way injured, but it would probably not hinder their march, even if Óin had kept up a steady supply of complaints that this incident had seriously dented his stocks. But he was not the only one who could pretend not to hear things. Thorin could not bring himself to truly care about his grumbles. To him it mattered that his men were taken care of. He had lost one of them and he would not lose another.

His gaze went to Kate, who had been sandwiched between Dori and Ori. Óin had not been happy with her injury, not at all, and he seemed to blame Thorin for it, if his disapproving stare was anything to go by. Thorin could not even really blame him for thinking like that. If only he had been a little faster, he’d have been able to prevent that blasted orc from slashing Kate’s shoulder like he had.

Fortunately the advisor was more or less fine. The wound had been seen to and her left shoulder and upper arm had been smeared in salve, after which they had been bandaged. Kate would need to have her arm in a sling for some days to come, but she would make a full recovery, even if the wounds would scar. Kate had grimaced when she heard that. ‘No more T-shirts for me, it would seem,’ she had said. She had tried to make it sound flippant, but Thorin could hear she was not very pleased with it. 

It was as if she had heard him thinking about her, because she got up in one fluent motion, turned her head in his direction and then walked over to join him. ‘You got watch?’ She seated herself on the neighbouring rock without as much as a by-your-leave. She probably knew he would not send her away.

Thorin nodded. ‘You should be asleep,’ he told her sternly.

Kate reacted with a massive yawn. ‘I’ve tried,’ she told him. ‘But I dare you to sleep with Dori snoring right in your ear.’

Thorin failed to stifle a smirk. ‘I see.’

‘Do you?’ the advisor countered. ‘Have you ever tried?’ It was the bantering again like they used to do whenever they were a little relaxed, but it somehow sounded forced. There was a full moon in the sky, bathing their environment in a silvery light and Thorin could see that Kate was not meeting his eyes. Instead she was staring into the distance. The dwarf doubted that she saw anything of it though. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.’ There was a short silence. ‘I can see Bifur every time I close my eyes,’ she confessed. ‘And then I wonder how his last minutes must have been. If he was scared, determined, panicked…’

Thorin could not help but frown. This was very unlike Kate. She didn’t share her fears. She had only done so once, when she told him why she had been so desperate to return to her home. After that the mask had slid back in place. She had made the oaths and it was obvious that she believed that when she did that she lost every right to be afraid or to speak about her problems. It had been Thorin doing the sharing ever since then.

And now that Kate did confide in him he didn’t know whether to feel honoured that she had come to him instead of her brothers or scared out of his wits because he was incapable of consoling any woman, never mind this one. He settled for the lighter tone of voice. ‘Do you see me as a social worker now?’ he inquired. Whenever they had a problem, this comment kept slipping in.

Kate snorted. ‘If you wish.’ That reply was unexpected. Thorin would have thought she would react with a witticism of her own about how she was convinced that Thorin would only be a social worker when the sun set in the east instead of the west, in other words: never at all. That she now chose to tell her fears, her troubles, to him in all seriousness, that said something about how troubled she felt. Still, why had she come to him? Surely she could have talked about this with Dori, who, without any doubt, would have comforted her far better than Thorin could ever have done. But she did not talk about this with Dori. Maybe this was just because they were friends and Dori could fuss worse than ten mother hens put together.

‘Why?’ The word slipped out before he could check himself.

‘Because you understand.’ The reply was immediate and finally she did look in his direction. ‘And you care, I think.’ The last two words were spoken a little hesitantly, as if Kate wasn’t sure that Thorin did care.

And she would be right in doing so. A few weeks ago he would not have cared for her problems at all. But that was before they had become friends. He supposed it was only natural that he showed interest in what went on inside that head of hers. But if he was being really honest, he felt honoured. It may be frightening at the same time, but Kate did trust him with whatever it was that haunted her mind. She trusted him that much.

‘I do,’ he heard himself say.

It was good that they had some light to see by. Now he could see her smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but given the circumstances Thorin did not truly blame her for that. He could relate to it. She was too preoccupied with something to be as carefree at the woman he had seen glimpses of from time to time. He frowned as he realised that was a side of Kate he wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

‘I know,’ Kate said. ‘Does it get any easier?’ The hesitance was back in her voice now. ‘Losing a friend like that?’

Thorin recalled Frerin, his father, his grandfather, his mother. He shook his head. ‘It does not get easier,’ he told her. ‘You’ll learn to cope.’ But this would haunt her dreams for at least some time to come, he knew. And maybe the nightmares would never really stop. But that too was something she would have to learn to deal with in order not to lose her mind over this. It wasn’t easily done, but it was necessary. ‘Kate, look at me.’

The advisor had resumed her study of her boots, but at his command she lifted her head. ‘What is it?’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he told her almost sternly. ‘None of this.’

Kate hesitated for a moment, but then she gave a curt, tentative nod, confirming to the dwarf king that for once he had read her right. That must be a first. ‘I know,’ the advisor replied softly. ‘I mean, with my mind I know.’ She looked at her hands. ‘It doesn’t make my plan any less foolish, though. Something could have gone wrong so easily. I might have condemned us all to death. I don’t even know what the hell I thought I was doing.’ Thorin thought he heard tears in her voice, but he ignored it. Friends they may be, but Mahal help him when she began to cry. He just did not know what to do with crying females, as Dís never failed to remind him.

‘Dwalin reported that more than a dozen orcs burned to death,’ he told her brusquely. Comforting people may not be his forte, but he did know what to do with facts. ‘That fire ended the fight. It would not have ended so well had their numbers not been greatly reduced.’

Kate looked up again. ‘Are you actually saying I did the right thing?’ In any other circumstance those words would have been accompanied by the most sarcastic and teasing tone she could muster. Now it was a plea, a desperate plea from someone who had to hear they had done something right in order to start believing it for themselves.

‘Aye,’ he replied. In one way Kate was right; it had been a hare-brained scheme. It had been a desperate scheme as well. But in the end it had saved lives. Dwarves were not as easily affected by the smoke as Men and Hobbits were – a conclusion drawn from the fact that the company burglar had apparently passed out fairly quickly – and they were made to endure. Thorin’s people  had great strength of mind and body, something this woman did not seem to be fully aware of, if she was aware of it at all. The dwarves had never been in as much danger as the advisor and burglar had been. Ironically Kate had been the one in the worst peril, something that had quite passed her by, it would seem.

And he stood by what he said. It wasn’t the best of plans, and there were many things that could have gone very wrong, but in the end it had won them the fight. If there had been time for it, she would have been honoured. As it was, this was no time for celebrations and Thorin doubted she would welcome them even if it was the time, not while she believed that she had done wrong.

‘You mean that?’ Kate asked incredulously.

Thorin nodded. ‘Aye, I do.’

A hesitant smile formed on her face. ‘Thank you.’ Only a fool would miss out on the genuine gratefulness the woman expressed. ‘You have no idea what that means to me.’ Except that he did know. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Thorin had experienced the feeling himself so many times he had lost count, especially when he had first been burdened with the task of leading his people. Mahal knew it had not been easy and he had been doubting himself at every turn, wondering if what he did was really the best thing to do after all. Balin had mostly been the one to reassure him and Dís had done a fair share of reassuring as well and, as she herself never tired of saying, doing a much better job of it than her brother ever could.

He gave a curt nod, not yet ready to share with her that he knew exactly what she felt like because he had personal experience with it. Their friendship may be growing stronger with every passing day, but this was something he didn’t share with anyone, save for Balin and Dwalin perhaps. The habit to keep up the image of a strong and decisive leader was a difficult one to break and Thorin was not sure he wanted to break it at all. He needed it to keep his men going, especially in this hard time. Besides, most of them were rather impressed with him killing the Defiler. Now was not the time to show weakness.

Kate pondered this for a while, eyes firmly on the ground again, a little frown in her forehead. ‘What did happen back there?’ she suddenly asked. ‘With Azog,’ she clarified when Thorin threw her a confused look.

‘Did you not hear the tale?’ he asked curtly. Thorin had not told everything, he admitted. He had left out Azog’s taunts and threats. He had merely relayed that part of the tale which ended up with Azog more or less jumping right on his blade.

Kate fixed him with as stern as stare as she could muster, reminding Thorin a lot of Dori in that particular moment. In times like these it was hard to remember that they weren’t actually blood relatives. ‘What _really_ happened?’ the advisor demanded. ‘You told me you had somehow learned that Fíli and Kíli had died and I don’t think it was a little bird telling you.’ She waited a moment, but when Thorin did not answer she added: ‘More like the big bad monster, if I’m right.’

And she was right, although the dwarf king was not in the mood to go and confirm her suspicions. He tried to forget that horrible fight and what had passed before it. It was bad enough he could relive it all if he only closed his eyes. The jabs and taunts had gotten right under his skin, making him experience a pain so fierce as had had not felt since Azanulbizar. And it was irrelevant now. The Defiler was dead and he had died with a lie on his lips. Thorin knew he should not take this as seriously as he had, but it wasn’t easy to forget what had happened, if he could forget at all and that was something he rather doubted.

He had known there was a distinct possibility of his sister-sons not surviving this quest, which was perhaps the very reason why he had believed it when Azog had boasted about killing them. But there was something else as well and Thorin could not even say exactly what it was. There had been something, just before Azog had begun to rub Thorin’s nose in the supposed demise of Fíli and Kíli.

It took him a moment to remember. _I can’t let her live of course_. _She could be carrying your child even as we speak_. That was what the Defiler had said whilst looking at Kate and for a moment, just a split second, Thorin had not thought of the absurdity of the idea. Instead he had been overcome with a burning fury, a strong determination not to let anyone harm Kate.

It was obvious that Azog had believed the advisor to be his wife and Thorin might have confirmed that by looking back at her the way he had done. He had acted like he was her lover, he realised. He would not have made such a mistake if anyone else was involved. And still, it was only friendship that was between them, was it? All of a sudden, he was no longer certain what they were to one another.

‘Thorin?’ Kate urged softly, bringing him back to the here and now. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

The dwarf shook his head. ‘You did not.’ He took a deep breath and then answered her earlier question. If Kate had found it in herself to trust him, he could trust her. ‘The Defiler made some comments about my sister-sons to enrage me.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘And about you. I tricked him into attacking me and I killed him.’

The advisor wasn’t a fool, no matter what Thorin may have thought when they had first met. She frowned. She knew Thorin wasn’t telling her everything, but she didn’t urge him into telling her all of it. Thorin knew he would not tell her everything anyway. For some reason he knew he could not share the threat Azog had made about the woman, not when his own reaction to it did not make sense at all.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _He’s holding out on me. I don’t know what it is, but it’s bloody annoying and I can’t for the life of me tell why he won’t tell me. Honestly, what kind of things could Azog have said about me as to make Thorin so taciturn?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry, this is, as you may have realised, not an everybody lives AU. I just don’t think it’s realistic that everyone survives such a fight.   
> On another, and happier, note, the first chapter of my outtakes story for The Journal, Duly Noted, is now up. Quite a few people on ff have been asking for one-shots about Thorin, Kate and their kids and I couldn’t resist writing it when I had a few hours left. So, if you’ve got a minute, please take a look.  
> Next time the company will find out that their little forest fire has not exactly gone unnoticed. And that chapter will be up Wednesday, since I’m back to my normal update scheme.  
> Please comment?


	43. Caught

_Thorin had gone back to being his stubborn oyster self. There was not a single thing he said after that, but I was not entirely sure that this had something to do with me, or something I had said. He was just deep in thought, retreating into some world of his own. I won’t pretend that it didn’t hurt though that he shut me out. Over the past few weeks I had become used to sharing problems, hopes and stories and it was only when I was denied this that I realised how much I had come to appreciate it. And it confused me._

_Oh dears, you must think us a couple of blind idiots. The rest of the company could see clearly where we were headed, but Thorin and I remained blissfully unaware and perfectly confused as to why the other suddenly had become so important to us. Well, you know the saying that love is blind and I fear that defined us rather well at that point in time. It just needed a little more time before we would both see sense._

_That time however was not that day. Everyone was subdued after Bifur’s demise and the heavy attack we had had only survived by the skin of our teeth. It was a small miracle that we had not lost any more than we had. This did nothing to cheer us up though. And literally we may have been out of the wood for a while, figuratively speaking we were nowhere near the exit yet. The fire was in hindsight a good way to get rid of our enemies. There was however the minor drawback that no one in a hundred mile radius could have overlooked this inferno. We must have been drawing some attention and most of it was bound to be very unwelcome. The resident of Dol Guldur would surely be interested and the same could be said for the elves in the north. Both those parties would probably send a few scouts to investigate the matter. Speaking of getting trapped between a rock and a hard place._

_We did however have a small window of time left and we were determined to make use of it. With any luck we would be able to slip back into the cover of the woods before we would be noticed. That was going to be a challenge, because now there were no more trees in this scorched wasteland – even if it was still an improvement in my opinion – we were painfully exposed and with quite a few of us injured, we weren’t moving as fast as we all would have liked. I myself was hopping along like a rabbit with a serious limp and I was forced by both Óin and Dori to keep my left arm in that sling, meaning that I could not carry any luggage. In truth, I felt as much of a burden as I had felt when I had first joined the company._

_And the fact that we were forced to spend another night under the moon and stars did not make things any better. We slept for a few hours and then moved on by moonlight in order to get to the cover the forest would provide us with, because none of us felt exactly at ease out in the open and the sooner we were back in the forest, the better it would be…_

 

The night was silent. They may be out of the stifling woods of Mirkwood, but it didn’t mean that this was necessarily any better than being in that forest. They were too exposed here. Anyone with eyes could see them and the sooner they had crossed the borders of this land, the better Thorin would feel. This place, burned or not, made his skin crawl and woke the urge to look over his shoulder every other minute.

And the silence was getting to him as well. It had been doing that before as well, but somehow the dwarf had expected that there would be sounds of life as soon as the trees had gone. That had not happened. The night was as silent as before. There were no birds, no animals and because the company was trying to pass unnoticed, there were not much sounds coming from them either. Thorin had not forbidden it and there were a few hushed conversations taking place behind him, but it wasn’t very much. Most of his men were too uncomfortable to talk. Thorin couldn’t blame them.

‘All rather doom and gloom around here.’ It was as if the advisor had heard his thoughts and had decided to break the silence. She had been walking next to Bofur and Bombur, but now fell into step beside him. ‘I mean, I understand, but…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘You like sound better than silence,’ Thorin concluded.

Kate shrugged. ‘I suppose,’ she said. ‘But really, I think I just would like anything better than having far too much time to _think_.’ She spoke the last word as if it was some contagious disease. ‘I just can’t seem to turn my mind off, or at any rate think of something less depressing than what happened there.’ She sounded it, depressed. Thorin realised that it did not suit her, not at all. Kate could be anything, from teasing to downright furious, but depressed was something that for some reason unnerved him.

‘Am I the social worker again?’ he inquired, trying to go for a lighter voice.

Kate snorted. ‘No, thanks. Actually, that’s the last thing I want right now. Don’t worry, at the moment I can analyse my own state of mind rather bloody well.’ The last sentence came out as a soft mutter under her breath. ‘I just came to chat, if you don’t mind.’

Thorin’s eyebrows were halfway his forehead before he could even begin to stop them. ‘I am a distraction?’ He had been many things during his life, but distraction was not one of them.

She, on the other hand, had proven to be a distraction for him more than once. It was a positive one on many occasions, that he would admit. Thorin had never even believed it possible to joke and to laugh as carelessly as he had done on several occasions since they had become friends. He could not even remember when he had last laughed for real before Kate barged into his world and turned it positively upside down, as she would phrase it. There were too many responsibilities resting on his shoulders that he at times could not even remember how to laugh or even smile. Too much had happened to him and laughter had died a long time ago, supposedly along with his family. Yet when he was near Kate he found himself doing and saying things he’d never imagined himself doing or saying. A few days ago he had even found himself joking about Smaug’s lack of talent when it came to household duties.

And he welcomed the distraction. It did not mean that the quest was any less important to him, because it was still very important to him, more than anything. But thinking about it from dawn till dusk would not help him or anyone. The woman was a good kind of distraction, helping him to remember that not everything was as serious as he would like to think.

But at times she was a dangerous kind of distraction as well. She had been one only recently, when he was about to take on Azog and he had looked back at her to reassure himself that she was still breathing. _I can’t let her live of course_. _She could be carrying your child even as we speak_. Because he had been so distracted, he had gambled with both their lives, not just his. That distraction had made Kate a target, although now it did no longer matter. Azog was dead. Thorin had seen the burned corpse. He had gone back to check, just to make sure that the monster was truly dead this time.

But Thorin had more enemies than just Azog. The dwarf king had no doubts about Thranduil, the king whose realm they had recently burned a considerable amount of. He was bound not to like that, but even without that provocation the elf was a danger, a risk. And Kate’s association with him was not healthy for either of them. If he knew Kate at all she was not going to stand by and let Thranduil take her friends prisoner, even if she by some miracle would not be included in the company, at least in the elves’ eyes. And Thorin was oath bound to protect her. Things could get very ugly. _Best not to get caught then_. The voice in his head sounded remarkably like the advisor, both in tone and words.

It might be dangerous to be so close to the woman, not for him – he could hold his own – but for her. But she knew that, knew it and had dismissed the notion with just one casual remark of how she was going to be in danger anyway.

A hand waved in front of his face brought him back to the present. ‘Are you even listening to me?’ There was annoyance and some worry to be heard in her voice.

‘Yes.’ He fixed her with as stern a stare as he could manage, although he wasn’t sure how much good it did with so little light available. Kate was human after all and she could not see as well as he could in the dark.

‘Then what did I say?’ she challenged, clearly not believing it.

And she would be right to think so, because Thorin could not recall a single thing she might have said after she had announced that she had just come to chat. He wasn’t even aware that she had been talking and that was an altogether dangerous development. He was used to knowing what was going on around him, to notice every detail. It was a warrior’s instinct and it had saved his life countless times. It was not like him to be slacking so much.

Kate took his silence as an answer. ‘Thought not,’ she concluded. Her face was a study in disapproval. ‘Thorin, I have no idea what has gotten into you, but I don’t like it.’ She threw her hands into the air in exasperation, wincing as she realised that her left arm did not appreciate that treatment. ‘I thought we were friends, but ever since that attack, you’ve been shutting me out. What the hell is going on, Thorin Oakenshield? I know you don’t owe me answers, since you’re the sodding king who’s answerable to absolutely no one, but we’re friends and I would bloody well appreciate it if you didn’t give me the silent treatment!’ Her voice was steadily building up to a shout.

There was a short, very uncomfortable silence and Thorin realised that conversation, little as it was, had dried up completely. The company had come to a halt and was listening in what appeared to be shock to Kate giving him a piece of her mind.

‘I win.’ The silence was broken by Nori. ‘Pay up, Kíli.’

Kíli moaned as he threw some coins over at Kate’s brother. ‘How did you know?’

Nori shrugged, wholly unconcerned. ‘I know my sister and…’

He didn’t get any further. Kate had rounded on him, grabbing him by the collar with her right hand. ‘What the hell?’ It was more of a growl than a question. ‘What the bloody hell is that all about?’

Thorin knew what this was. This was Kate being dangerously close to the edge. He had seen it before. After they had escaped Goblin-town she had flown off the handle as well. The same had happened after their lucky rescue by the eagles. At first there was the relief after a dangerous situation and in such cases she was more prone to show weakness, show vulnerability. Eventually though the relief would make way for frustration, fear of some kind. The dwarf was not even close to finding out what caused it, but he suspected that exhaustion was one of the main culprits. He didn’t know what kept Kate going at the moment, but she was injured and tired after the ordeal, and in a way she may still be blaming herself for Bifur’s death and the fear they had all gone through. That did not make for a good combination and now that she learned that Nori and Kíli had been betting about her, she snapped.

‘Kate, you’re injured,’ Nori reminded her. He at least seemed to realise that he was in something of a tight spot. He was already glancing over his shoulder in search of an escape route. ‘You’ll make it worse. Ask Óin.’

But Kate was not that easily distracted, as Thorin could have told the other dwarf in advance. ‘What. Did. You. Just. Do.’ The demand came out from between clenched teeth. Yes, Kate may be exhausted, but it tended to show in bursts of anger and if Nori truly knew his sister so well, as he had only just claimed to do, then he should have known better than to try and avoid the question. The advisor was on the warpath.

He decided to step in, lying a hand on Kate’s uninjured shoulder. ‘Kate, that’s enough.’ He summoned up his most commanding tone. It would not make her obey, but it would make her pay attention and he would be grateful for that, he would not deny.

She turned to him now, as expected. ‘Doesn’t this bother you?’ she demanded.

It did. But right now Kate’s behaviour bothered him more. ‘We will talk about this later,’ he informed the thief and his sister-son. ‘Move on.’ His hand, still resting on Kate’s shoulder, prevented her from doing the same. ‘Wait,’ he informed her softly. It was time this came to an end and although he’d much rather they could sit down to discuss this, there was no time. It needed to be discussed now.

Dori eyed them warily. ‘Thorin, would it not be better if I were to…’

Thorin did not give him a chance to finish. ‘The command included you,’ he told the advisor’s eldest brother. ‘Miss Andrews will be safe in my company.’

‘For heaven’s sake,’ Kate growled. ‘Stop talking about me as if I’m not there! Dori, I’m fine. Really. Just… just go.’ The last sentence sounded more weary than angry, confirming Thorin’s suspicions about Kate being more tired than anything else. He could not help but feel pleased with his newfound ability to guess the advisor’s motives. If only that would help her to calm down somewhat, but he was unlikely to get lucky there.

Dori at least seemed to understand that staying and keeping an eye on his youngest sibling was not going to do him any good, so with a last stern look at Thorin he took his leave. Not that he needed words to convey the message that he would cheerfully rip Thorin to pieces should he do anything that might harm the advisor. Thorin might be the king, but family took precedence over any other loyalty he had. And that was as it should be. If only Thorin could make him understand that Kate was not in any danger, definitely not from him.

‘What is going on with you?’ Thorin had been meaning to ask the very same question, or something very close to it, but Kate beat him to it. She didn’t even wait till her brother was out of earshot. ‘Thorin, I’m sorry if I crossed the line just now, but I just need to know what on earth caused you to act like this. Is it something I said, something I did?’

Was she blaming this on herself? Apparently he did not know her as well as he thought he did. That was not at all like the woman he had come to know over the last few months. Now there was a strange notion. For some reason it felt like he had known Kate Andrews for far longer, almost all his life. Thorin could not even remember when he had grown so close to someone in such a short amount of time. It was both a comfort and at the same time it was frightening him almost worse than Azog.

‘You think this is your fault?’ He tried to sound chastising, but was rather afraid it was more incredulous than anything else.

‘Isn’t it?’ Kate shot back. There was still enough anger left to make for a rather snappy tone of voice. ‘What else was I supposed to think? We had a conversation back at the shelter and all of a sudden you have that brooding glance and you’re not saying a word anymore. Please enlighten me what other conclusion I was supposed to have reached, because it is honestly far beyond me.’ By the end of her speech it was the sarcasm that ruled her voice.

‘I needed to think,’ he replied, knowing that this did not make for a satisfactory answer, but he would not, could not give her any more without betraying his own fears and doubts. And he could not share them with her, not when she was carrying so much fear and guilt around herself.

There was a short silence. A frown crept unto Kate’s forehead. ‘It’s something Azog said.’ Her face lit up with the realisation. ‘I asked about what had happened there and you replied that he had been making some remarks about Fíli and Kíli and… me.’ The understanding started to dawn for real now, even if it did seem to confuse her at the same time. ‘That’s it. What the hell did Azog say about me?’

She was sharp, Thorin would admit. He had not ever doubted this. With her quick jabs and witticisms it was unmistakable that the company advisor was intelligent, but right now he wished that she wasn’t so clever. Because he would share a lot with her, but the thing Azog said, he could never repeat. It would be too embarrassing for both of them. _She could be carrying your child even as we speak_. And Thorin still did not quite know what to make of his  own reaction to this threat, but he was bound not to like it, because he didn’t liked what it said about him. Azog’s claim was still beyond ridiculous, but his actions, and maybe Kate’s as well, said something else.

‘He was threatening to kill you,’ Thorin replied. It was the truth, even if it wasn’t all of it.

‘Naturally.’ He still had the uncomfortable idea that the woman was not fooled. She knew he was still holding out on her. Her next question only proved it. ‘What else? This was not all of it. There’s something else or you would not have been so badly shaken.’ When no reply was forthcoming, the anger kicked back in again. ‘Bloody hell, Thorin, stop doing that! I’m your friend. Do you really think I would cheerfully go and shout it from the rooftops for everyone to hear? I’m trying to help. If only you’d let me.’ The last bit was spoken while the advisor stared at the point of her boots, clearly embarrassed that she had even offered this.

And to be quite honest, he did not know what to do with the offer she’d made. He did however recognise a cry from the heart when he happened upon one of them. But that did not make any sense either. Why did Kate care so much and why had she been so frustrated when he, what she called, shut her out? The dwarf king felt like there were things going on around him that he did not understand and that frightened him worse than he would ever let on.

‘He told me that he could not take the risk to let you live.’ Honesty might be the best course now. They had agreed to be allies and they had agreed to be friends. It was a risk worth taking.

This she did not understand. ‘Why not? What risk did he mean?’

‘He feared that you might be pregnant.’ He had decided on telling Kate the truth, but he could not bring himself to repeat the exact words. There was something very strange about saying _my child_ in relation to a child of Kate’s. Odd, but strangely enough it did not feel as wrong as it would have done some months ago. He squashed the notion the moment it popped up in his head. He did not want to go there. ‘And he had sworn to wipe out every descendant of Thrór’s,’ he added for good measure.

There was a strange expression on Kate’s face, but before he could even begin to make sense of it, it was gone again, making way for a dismissive scowl. ‘Good grief, that guy really was an idiot.’

Thorin decided not to argue the point. It was one thing to tell Kate what it was that Azog had said, but it was quite another to share his own suspicions about the subject. The Defiler had not been a fool. In fact, Thorin had believed him to be highly intelligent. Even the elves had been fooled into thinking that there was a relationship when there was none. Before now he had dismissed the very idea without giving it as much as a second thought, but if he looked, _really_ looked, at his own actions and hers, then he would need to admit that they had succeeded in giving off the wrong impression. Even their own companions believed it, because the dwarf was convinced that the bet had something to do with him, the advisor and their supposed relationship. Only Thorin and Kate knew there were other explanations for the things they had done and said and even he now started to doubt his own motivations. It could not be, could it?

But he at least recognised an opportunity when he saw one and at the moment Kate was too much distracted by Azog’s assumed stupidity to ask Thorin why he had needed to do so much thinking about it or why he had been so affected by it. He would make use of that. ‘I need to ask you to reconsider the story we have agreed to tell the elves,’ he told her.

The advisor had clearly been thinking about something else entirely, if her vacant expression was anything to go by. ‘I’m sorry, what?’

Thorin did not think she had not actually heard him, but he repeated his idea nonetheless.

The irritated ‘Yes, I did hear you the first time’ told him he had at least been right in that assumption. ‘What I don’t know is why. It’s a good story and I don’t think anyone will question it too much. No one seems to have done so before now, so I’d say it’s a perfectly good cover.’ And it had been, Thorin knew. It had been their cover before they had even realised that it was a cover, back in Rivendell. Even when they had still been at each other’s throats three times a day, supposedly highly intelligent creatures like the elves had come to the conclusion that Thorin and Kate were married, never mind the fact that such a thing had not been known to happen before.

‘Have you not realised that your association with me might put you in danger, Kate?’ It must have crossed her mind, especially so shortly after he had told her about what Azog had said. The fact that she was close to Thorin had put her at risk more than the dwarf was comfortable with. He only needed to conjure up the memory of her motionless and very injured body in the shelter and Azog looking at her as if she was his next meal. The closer she was to him, the more danger she would be in.

The only response he got was a weary sigh though. ‘I thought we had gone over this,’ she said. ‘We’re all in danger anyway and each and every member of this company is, as you call it, associated with you. I don’t hear you making suggestions like this to them either.’

‘This is different,’ Thorin tried to explain.

He knew this had been the wrong thing to say the moment Kate’s face started to resemble an overripe tomato. ‘No, it isn’t,’ she disagreed in a snarl. ‘This is just you trying to play my bloody bodyguard again. Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve got Dori to do the worrying about my health and safety quite enough, thank you very much. And, for your information, he’s doing a good job of that on his own. I don’t need you to fuss about me as well.’ The anger was still very close to the surface. ‘Besides, had we not agreed, sometime back in Rivendell, that you do a lot of things, but you certainly do not fuss?’

Thorin did remember that conversation, when he had tried to help her walk into the elven kingdom and the elves had serenaded them. They had done a lot of bickering then, but in a way it had helped them both to cope with the situation and looking back on it, he found that it was a fond memory.

‘You do not understand the danger you are in,’ he still felt obliged to point out.

‘In danger of Thranduil being an idiot and a bastard?’ Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘Listen, Thorin, I’m tired of the whole special she’s-the-delicate-female-treatment. I’m just another member of your company who just so happens to be a woman. I’m not made out of porcelain and I’m not dropping dead when some elf decides to be annoying.’

That was what this was all about, was it not? She wanted to be normal, or as normal as she could be in a company of dwarves who all believed it their responsibility to care for women, no matter what race they were from – elves of course excluded. Thorin found he could understand that. His resolve wavered.

Kate seemed to sense that. The expression on her face was triumphant as she went in for the kill. ‘Besides, if we’re not sticking to that story, what then were you planning to tell the elves?’

The dwarf hated the fact that she had a point. There was nothing else they could really tell the elves, because the truth was not an option. She was right. There was very little choice at all. ‘Make sure you stay close to me,’ he told her, not yet ready to admit that she was in fact right. ‘I swore an oath to protect you and I will not have your stubbornness keep me from keeping my word.’

He turned around and walked away, knowing that Kate would follow anyway. That was the whole quest in a nutshell, come to think of it. No matter how hard he tried to get rid of the woman, she kept tagging along. Thorin found he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he had been.

 

***

 

The first rays of sunshine were already creeping over the horizon by the time they reached the borders of the forest. For some reason the fire had suddenly stopped here. Kate could not for the life of her find an explanation for that phenomenon. One minute they were walking in the burned wasteland and the next the trees rose up before them, seemingly untouched by the fire. Something was very disturbing about that.

There were more people in the company who seemed uncomfortable with it all. Dwalin looked downright suspicious. ‘Something’s not right here,’ he grumbled.

Even the company burglar looked ill at ease. ‘But the fire can’t just have gone out like that, can it?’ he asked of no one in particular. ‘It doesn’t happen all of a sudden?’ Because of the hobbit’s uncertainty it came out as a question rather than a statement.

‘No, I think it doesn’t,’ Kate muttered, staring intensely at the trees as if the answer to her question was somewhere in those looming branches. Of course, she had no such luck. Instead she marched over to Thorin. ‘I don’t trust this,’ she said bluntly. ‘Something is not right here.’ She might be echoing Dwalin, but it was what she felt as well.

‘I know.’ The response was calm. Thorin may have been worrying himself to death only hours ago – over her safety no less – but he was firmly back in control now. ‘But what would you suggest we do, Kate?’ He may appear calm, but he sounded weary. Maybe it was just the result of the very long march without sleep, but Kate thought it more likely that it was the consequence of having so much responsibility. ‘But what can I do? Turn around now?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Of course not. It just unnerves me. Fire doesn’t extinguish so quickly, so suddenly, does it? It looks like it happened from one moment to the next.’ She hesitated a moment before she voiced her next thought. ‘Almost as if there was magic involved.’

Thorin’s head swivelled in her direction. ‘Do you think Gandalf is involved?’

Kate shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I think. I just know that there is something not natural about it and I don’t trust it, but I agree with you. We can’t exactly turn back.’ She sighed and stared at the trees as if they could reveal their secrets if she only stared hard enough. ‘I don’t bloody like it!’ she growled. ‘I wish…’ She hesitated. ‘Oh, screw it, I don’t know what I wish.’

She felt uneasy, jumpy even. The worst thing was that she could not even quite determine why. Of course it was strange that the fire had gone out so quickly, so abruptly, and the mere thought of going into that wood again made her shiver in what she suspected was fear. Thorin had better be right about his assumption that they would need a week at most to get to the other side. Going in there, living in a constant twilight, and the utter darkness at night, it was a most unwelcome idea. But they needed to push through, because going back was not an option at all.

‘Do you think we will see spiders?’ Thorin asked.

Kate conjured up the mental picture of the map, trying to decide whether they had already passed the dangerous part. ‘There were spiders drawn into the map about halfway through Mirkwood,’ she said hesitantly. ‘And you said we are more than halfway through.’ Kate glanced over her shoulder back to the wasteland. ‘I think we might have gotten lucky just this once. They might have burned to cinders in that inferno.’

Thorin cracked something that with some imagination might just pass for a smile. ‘The fire has done more good than I anticipated,’ he remarked. ‘A silver lining, you’d call it.’

Kate could feel the corners of her mouth curl up involuntary. ‘A silver lining indeed. Now all we have to do is to avoid some elves and then some bloody dragon is all we’ll have to concern ourselves with. That’s got to be child’s play after this inferno. If anything, we know how to handle fire now.’ This was strange, this joking when the situation was so serious, but the moment they started it, Kate could feel the nerves and fear retreating to the back of her head. Her breathing slowed and the same was true for her heart. Strangely enough it was only Thorin who seemed to have such an effect on her. Had it been Nori or Fíli or anyone, she would have flown off the handle for making fun of the situation like that.

There was a twinkle in Thorin’s eyes that she had only seen a handful of times before this day, but always when they were doing this. For some reason the dwarf seemed to enjoy this as much as Kate did. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Just hide until it burns itself out. We just need to determine how to work that strategy on Smaug.’

Kate chuckled. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ she admitted. ‘That won’t work at all. Bugger. What a shame. We’ll have to work out something else then. Surely we can manage that?’

‘We need to get out of this forest first.’ Thorin eyed the trees with barely concealed suspicion and Kate could hardly fault him for that. She was not at ease here herself. And to her facing a dragon felt like child’s play after the orc attack. No doubt she would swallow her words again when they were facing the actual dragon, but that was something for later. ‘Move on!’

‘Right you are,’ the advisor muttered as she fell into step next to the king at the head of the column. If the state of her arm was anything to go by, that was going to be difficult enough. It hurt and it was itching too, but she knew better than to say anything about it. Heaven knew her friends were already fussing worse than any doctor or her mother could manage. And it could all have turned out a whole lot worse. Bifur was a prime example of just how badly things could turn out and as long as she wasn’t dying, she wasn’t complaining.

Or at least, she wasn’t complaining where anyone could hear her. Because this did not mean that the wound did not worry her. It did and quite a lot. Oh, she did not fret about the healing. Óin was good at his job and if he said it would heal well, then Kate believed him. It was the scars that concerned her now. They would be ugly beyond the shadow of a doubt and Kate was vain enough to care about that, even if she knew better than to admit it within hearing distance. But she had gotten away with her life and that was more important than her looks.

No, the thing was mainly that she had no idea what she should say to the people at home when they saw the scars. The scar on her face alone would be very difficult to explain. The burn and sword wound would be only more so. And at least she could claim that she had accidentally hurt herself near fire, but it was very unlikely that anyone would believe that she had accidentally hurt herself on a blade, especially in that place. She would need to come up with some form of plausible explanation, but fortunately she would still have some months to think about that one.

Strange really how she had come to look forward to spending more time with this company. Maybe it was because she knew there would be no use in wanting to go back anyway. Maybe that was why she had allowed herself to let these people take up residence in her heart. Maybe that was why she found herself going on for days without sparing home more than a second’s thought.

At the same time it frightened her. Was she truly in danger of forgetting her loved ones? Kate did not like what this said about her, not at all. It frightened her that she was apparently okay with leaving them in fear about what had become of her. Her right hand clenched into a fist – if she did so with her left it hurt like hell. Why, oh why, had life to be so complicated?

‘Are you well?’ Thorin inquired politely.

Kate threw him a quick reassuring smile. ‘Just thinking,’ she answered, truthfully in this case. ‘And are you trying to be a social worker again?’

Thorin appeared to be wanting to give an answer to that question, but he was stopped from doing so. Kate could not even see how it happened and she would almost say that they had materialised out of thin air. One moment they were walking on the road, bantering a little, even if they were on their guard, the next they found themselves surrounded by elves, whose life ambition it apparently was to show the company the great skill with which their arrows were made, if the close proximity of those to their faces was anything to go by.

Kate found herself backing away and Thorin made use of the opportunity by roughly shoving her behind him, straight into Dori’s waiting arms. Just this once the advisor did not protest. She had been startled rather badly and found herself confused how this had come to pass so suddenly. She had never even seen the elves until they were surrounded. Her heart was beating too fast, because even in the confusion of the moment it was all too easy to realise that this was a bad development. There were arrows pointing at them and the elves’ faces were not exactly welcoming.

‘Who are you?’ Thorin did not seem very impressed. He sounded as commanding as ever, but it was mingled with loathing and anger. ‘What do you want with us? Answer me!’ In this moment it was all too easy to remember that he was a king and that he was used to being obeyed.

‘I might ask the same question of you, dwarf.’ The elf who had spoken seemed to return the absolute loathing. He was tall, and one of the few not pointing an arrow in one of their faces. Kate suspected him to be the leader of this elven patrol, because that was what it appeared to be. What worried her was that they apparently had known exactly where to look for them.

‘I will not answer to someone who meets me with a threat.’ The elf was a good deal taller than all of them, but Thorin did not appear to be bothered by it. He met the elf’s gaze with pride and disdain.

Kate had known there was a strong dislike between their races. She had seen that for herself in Rivendell, but in that city things had been far more civilised and no one had tried to murder anyone else. But they were now in Mirkwood and the dislike, the _hate_ between elf and dwarf was stronger here, far stronger than Kate had even believed possible. And the feeling was mutual too. The elves seemed to hate the dwarves as much as the dwarves hated the elves. And since Kate appeared to be on the receiving end of those sodding arrows, she tended to side with the dwarves.

‘Then you will answer to our king.’ The elf did not seem bothered at all. ‘Bind their hands. Take their weapons.’ He almost sounded bored, as if this was some kind of routine job for him. Kate sincerely hoped it was not. The thought of elves taking dwarves prisoners on a daily basis was not a thought she liked to entertain.

At hearing that command they were all backing away, almost on instinct, Kate suspected. She found herself squashed between Thorin and Dori somewhere in the middle of the group. All around her the dwarves were putting up resistance. It went against their very nature to be taken without a fight, but the arrows made it very difficult for them to do so and they all knew it.

‘Thorin, my bag!’ she hissed in the king’s ear. For all their planning that was something that had escaped her notice entirely. Her bag contained _The Hobbit_ and all kinds of things that would make the story they had thought up completely unbelievable, and Thorin had been the one carrying it, since her arm was so useless. Naturally she only thought of that now that it was already too late, but she shuddered at the thought of Thranduil getting his hands on the knowledge about their quest. He was sure to use it, and not in the way they would like. ‘They can’t…’

The dwarf silenced her with a look. ‘The burglar has it.’

Kate growled. ‘We still need to hide it,’ she snapped, softly in order not to alarm the elves with their annoyingly advanced hearing. Fortunately her friends were causing such a racket that their conversation went practically unnoticed.

She now found herself on the receiving end of a rather incredulous look. ‘It is hidden, Kate. The burglar is wearing his Ring.’

It took a few moments before the message sank in properly, but then she let out a sigh of relief. Of course, it was book stuff. Bilbo was never captured by the elves and even though events were thoroughly messed up, that was one thing that had apparently not changed at all. It was a small mercy, but at the moment Kate was grateful for it, since it was all the mercy they were likely to get. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ It didn’t mean that she was about to resign herself to being chained up like the average criminal, but at least they had some advantage now. Kate and Thorin knew already of a good way to escape Thranduil’s dungeons and the elf himself did not have as much as a clue. As long as they had the knowledge they were still in the game. They had not yet lost.

 _Since when did_ you _become that much of a fighter?_ a sarcastic voice in the back of her head wondered.

 _Since I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a sodding cell_ , Kate snapped at it. At some point in time she must have found some hidden reserves of courage, but she was grateful for them. Heaven knew she would need them if they were to be led bound into the heart of an enemy kingdom. And enemies these elves were. Tolkien may have described them as the good guys, as not being evil, just wary of strangers, but in Kate’s opinion these elves were enemies. No friends had ever tried to tie her up and throw her into a bloody dungeon. And she was with the dwarves. She took it that meant that her allegiance was with them, especially after the oath she had made. _I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed_. And since this was her quest as well, the elves were currently doing a splendid job of getting in the way of her keeping the oath she had made. Enemies indeed.

She gave Thorin a curt nod. ‘And the map and key?’ She could see that one of the elves was searching Kíli for hidden weapons, having already bound the dwarf’s hands behind his back so that he could do nothing to stop it. ‘Where are they?’ Surely the elves would take them and then they would have a very difficult job getting into the Mountain. Without the map they could manage, because there was a copy of that in the book, but there was no other key than the one Thorin was carrying with him. Without it, the whole journey would be in vain.

She didn’t need to explain this to the dwarf. He understood. ‘Do you know a place to hide them where they will not find them?’

Kate thought for half a second, then nodded. ‘Yes. Give them to me.’ It was insane. She would readily admit that. It was the most stupid thing she had ever thought of, but if they were clever about it, they might be lucky and this might just work. And it was not as if she had any better ideas at the moment and Thorin appeared to be clueless as well. They had to think of something and this was clearly the best thing both of them could come up with, since it was too late to give these things to Bilbo as well.

Thorin did throw her a confused look, but he did not protest the notion, instead digging up the key and map and handing them to Kate without asking any questions. That had to be a novelty, but now was not the time to stop and think about that. And fortunately all the struggling around them kept the elves’ attention firmly on the other members of the company. Their little exchange went unnoticed.

 _Now, time to see how well developed your acting skills are, girl_. The advisor pretended to be knocked off balance when yet another body was shoved against her, making her fall on her backside. The contact with the hard forest floor hurt, but if this was to be successful, she had no time to linger on that. She rolled the key inside the map, which was a very difficult thing to do with just one hand. She kept up a sotto voce stream of curses, whilst at the same time being very grateful for the fact that the resistance the others put up bought her the time she needed to complete the task. Bloody injury. It slowed her down more than she liked.

In the end she managed it though and she slipped the items into her bra. It felt uncomfortable to say the least and Kate winced a little when the key, even through the parchment, pushed against her breast, but at least it was out of sight and in a relatively safe place.

‘Help me to my feet,’ she muttered at the dwarf king. With one arm out of business she had a difficult time finding her balance at all and getting to her feet under these circumstances required some help, loath as she was to ask for it. But Thorin was a friend and she could ask it of him.

His eyes had widened considerably when he realised what she had been doing. ‘What…?’ he began to ask.

‘The one place they will not search,’ Kate explained. If this had been any other situation she would have felt smug. As it was, this was not the time for feeling pleased with herself. ‘The elves are hell-bent on doing everything by the rules, right? They won’t touch a woman there. It’s not decent.’

All her hope of course rested on that idea. If these elves were not as proper and decent as the Rivendell ones, her plan would be dead in the water and she knew it. The same was probably true for Thorin. But it was the best she had and after all, she was a visibly injured woman. She probably looked even less threatening than a baby rabbit at the moment. The elves might not see her as a threat and therefore not search her too thoroughly. And she had better hope that was the case, or the plan would fail.

Thorin gave her a curt, approving nod. ‘Good thinking.’

Kate was still recovering from the shock that Thorin Oakenshield had actually paid her a compliment, when the elves interrupted. ‘We’re missing one!’ The speaker was a tall elf – why on earth did they all have to be so bloody tall? – with green eyes and red hair. His eyes were currently narrowed in suspicion, making him look rather dangerous, although admittedly his many weapons had something to do with that as well. Kate suspected that this particular elf was somewhere higher up in the chain of command. He had not been concerning himself with the job of tying the dwarves up, instead walking around, keeping an eye on the proceedings.

Bilbo. They must be talking about Bilbo. Thorin had said that their burglar was wearing his Ring, making him invisible to all. And since he was carrying Kate’s rucksack, that must be invisible as well. It was just a shame that the elves had seen him before he had slipped on that sodding piece of jewellery. She may hate the fact that such a dangerous artefact was still in the company, but it did have its uses. So maybe Gandalf had actually known what he was doing, because right now that Ring was nothing short of a gift from heaven.

‘What do you mean?’ another elf demanded.

‘There were fourteen,’ the redhead said, still looking at the company suspiciously. The dwarves, Kate noticed, all did their best to look as innocent as possible. They were not doing a very good job of it regrettably. Kíli was smirking and even Thorin looked remotely pleased with himself. For all Kate knew, this might even have been his idea. ‘Now there are only thirteen.’

‘Wow, you can count,’ Kate muttered under her breath. ‘Your intelligence is clearly growing.’

That comment had been meant for Thorin’s ears only. Unfortunately it had been very silent and Kate realised with a shock that she had been heard by all those present. Oh, bugger.

The leader’s attention now focused on her. It was hard to read the faces of elves, but Kate thought it would be a fair guess to say that he was at least a little surprised. ‘You’re a daughter of the race of Men.’ Surprise was there, but some disdain as well.

And Kate had never been able to take that well. It was almost as if she was allergic to it. All it ever managed to do was bring out a side of her that blurted out everything she thought, which was, admittedly, not the wisest thing to do. She had done it in Goblin-town and in Rivendell and before she could even stop herself from doing it, she did it again. ‘Your observational skills are astounding as well,’ she snapped at the elves. ‘Now, if you are quite done stating the obvious…’

The elf did not let her finish. ‘Where is the last member of your company?’ he questioned sharply.

Good grief, if he thought any of them were going to say that, he was even more stupid than the advisor had already believed him to be due to his earlier observation. So she twisted her face into a smirk, at the moment not caring about the consequences of her actions. ‘Oh dear,’ she said in a sickening sweet tone of voice. ‘We’ve lost him. Woops.’

And they may be the losing party in this stupid game, at least for now, but when she saw the elf’s angry face, for just a split second Kate Andrews felt like the victor.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to get away from the book even if I want to. There weren’t even supposed to be elves near this road, but of course we run into them. Or maybe it was just unavoidable after that fire I started._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in come the elves. I couldn’t honestly not use them. And the last thing Kate says to the elves is a quote from Spooks (season 3, episode 1). I just couldn’t resist using it.  
> Next time Thorin recognises one of his captors and Kate’s mouth is, once again, quite a bit faster than her brain. In the meantime, please comment?


	44. Tied Together

_And that, my dears, is where relations with the Mirkwood elves got wrong for me. Of course Thorin already had a long history with them, but I had never met the elves of the Woodland Realm. Of course, I had met elves before them and I had found them not particularly nice. The Rivendell elves were of an unearthly beauty and grace and I always got the feeling that they thought they were far, far above the rest of us because of that. They kept their distance from us and I had been all right with that, because Mahal knows I had been rather uncomfortable around them, preferring the company of the dwarves over that of our hosts._

_The Mirkwood elves were different, very different. They were, to begin with, far more down to earth than their kinsmen in Rivendell. They were still more handsome than anyone had any right to be, but they were not unearthly. They were the kind of elves who had both feet firmly on the ground and let me tell you, they were not at all pleased to find us in their realm._

_It took me hardly any time at all to establish that these elves were indeed very much like Tolkien had described them. He had written that they were, in his own words, not wicked folk, which I assume they were not. They were bloody annoying and they were definitely no friends of mine, but they were not evil. The distrust of strangers that was mentioned, that they did have plenty of. And I think that their distrust was even stronger because we were not just strangers, but a whole bunch of dwarves, who they clearly hated with a passion._

_They were also described as more dangerous and less wise than the western elves, something I did not doubt either. The leader of the patrol had already demonstrated his lack of wisdom and the fact that they had not seen Bilbo disappear spoke volumes too. The arrows still pointed at us were testimony enough of the danger they represented. All in all, I did feel uncomfortable around them, just not uncomfortable enough to keep my mouth well and truly shut, thus managing to talk myself further into trouble._

_And of course that is part of the reason why the relations with the Mirkwood elves are as tense as they still are today. I had no idea who I was even insulting and the leader of that patrol did not have it written on his forehead that he was Thranduil’s own nephew. I was actually insulting royalty and I don’t think the elves have ever truly forgiven me for doing that. No surprise there of course._

_At the time, however, it did make things only worse than they already were…_

 

‘Oh, dear.’ Kate’s voice was as mocking as Thorin had ever heard it, but there was an underlying tone of righteous anger, bordering on hate, to be heard as well, making the tone of voice as a whole biting and sharp. ‘We’ve lost him. Woops.’ For just a moment she sounded wholly unconcerned.

And Thorin knew what this was. This was Kate losing her temper. He had been on the receiving end of it more than once and he knew her anger was a force to be reckoned with. The advisor may not excel in the use of weapons, but she could talk people into knots if she so chose. It was just that in this case her chosen approach would only manage to get them further into trouble. These elves were unlikely to take this well and they did have the upper hand now. They could just shoot her if Kate said something they disliked and Thorin did not doubt that they would do it too.

The leader of the patrol – and there was something strangely familiar about his face, even if Thorin could not pinpoint what exactly that was – leaned closer to Kate. ‘You know where he has gone, don’t you?’ he all but growled.

Normally Kate would have backed off by now, but this was not a normal situation and she was in the grip of the anger. She would not back off this time. Thorin had come to know her rather well and that was something the woman would not do, not when she was as mad as she was.

And he was proven right. ‘Weren’t you listening?’ she demanded. ‘I told you we had lost him. In simple words that means that I don’t know where he’s gone off to, although I congratulate him on his ability to outwit you.’ She gave the elf a once over. ‘Not that it would take much for anyone to outwit you,’ she added. ‘Now, let. Us. Go. We’ve done you no harm. All we want is to travel on this road. We’ll be gone before you even notice it.’ She was still mad, but there was an underlying tone that was almost cajoling. Almost. To Thorin’s surprise the woman sounded like an army commander. His first assumption about her, that she must be some kind of authority figure in her world, must have been right. She definitely gave the impression of being used to give commands.

The elf was not impressed. ‘You set the woods on fire.’

‘We didn’t.’ It was a blatant lie, but it was spoken with a neutral expression. And here he was thinking that this woman could not lie to save her own life. Thorin made a mental note to never underestimate the advisor again. He had clearly been wrong about her, very wrong about her. ‘You can blame the orcs for that. Or you would have been able to blame them, were they still alive.’

Kate’s hand was trembling. Thorin could feel it because it was next to his own hand. And he understood why it was trembling, because this was a very dangerous game she was playing. Something told Thorin that he ought to interfere, but another small voice in the back of his head told him to stay out of this and let the woman take care of it herself. She was doing reasonably well so far. Thorin didn’t think their captors were about to let them go anytime soon, but they might just escape the charge of being responsible for the burning of their beloved forest, which might make it a little easier on them.

‘What do you mean?’ the redhead next to the leader demanded. ‘There are no orcs in the woods.’

‘Not anymore,’ Kate shot back. ‘The fools had forgotten that they too could be killed by fire. The ones that didn’t burn, we killed. So, we’ve actually done you a favour.’

The elf in charge huffed. ‘I will leave that for my king to decide. What are you waiting for? Tie them up.’ This was to his own men.

Half of Thorin’s company was already tied up and it was only a matter of time before the rest of them would be too. Fighting would after all be most unwise when there were still arrows pointed at them. They would not be able to escape captivity, he knew. This elf was too convinced that he needed to lead them before his king. And that was something Thorin feared. There was no love lost between him and Thranduil. The elf would just love to see his enemy in his dungeon and if he were ever to learn of their true purpose, Thorin doubted he would ever be inclined to let them go.

Thranduil was a coward at heart, the dwarf knew. He was a coward and an oath breaker. He had stood by and watched as Erebor fell, not even lending a hand to the dwarves that were fleeing their burning home. He had just turned his back on his supposed allies and left without a word. And Thorin could not, would not, forgive him for that treachery. And now the elf king would do anything in his power to stop the dwarves from reclaiming their rightful home. He was of course an elf who disliked dwarves and would hate nothing more than to see them strong again, because that would mean they were a political power to be reckoned with. The main reason for this attitude though was his fear of Smaug, or so Thorin believed. And he would not condone the actions of anyone who was planning on taking the Mountain back from that monster, because it would endanger his own realm.

Some of the elves reached for Kate and Thorin was snapped out of his thoughts. It was instinct, he supposed. They were dragging the advisor with them, who cursed and kicked, but it was of course no use at all. His reaction was both unwise and would not do either of them any good in the long run, but he was not going to stand by and let this happen either, so he reached forward and grabbed Kate’s waist, dragging her back to him, forcing the elves to let go. His enemies may have weapons, but dwarves were still stronger than any other race in Middle Earth.

‘You do not lay a finger on her.’ The words came out in a snarl. He had sworn to protect Kate and he would not do that if he let these elves just take her. And they could not truly be meaning to tie her up? She was injured. If they meant to tie her hands behind her back, as they were doing his men right now, then the wound would surely open again and that was bad news. Thorin did not have to be a healer to know that.

It had been wrong thing to do. If he had not known that before, he knew it now. He may be holding on to Kate for the moment, but the look in the elf’s eyes made him almost shiver. It was the look of the hunter who knew he can kill his prey without effort. The worst thing about that was that he was absolutely justified in thinking so. And Thorin had just been stupid enough to put a major weakness on display.

‘And what does a dwarf want with a human woman?’ he inquired in a mocking tone that might even give Kate a run for her money.

It was not something Thorin liked to do, but they had agreed. It was too late now to come up with anything else anyway. And so he strengthened his grip on the advisor’s waist, pulling her against him and, consequently, further away from the elves, which was a good thing if he could only believe that it would work for longer than half a minute. ‘She is my wife,’ he growled. ‘And you will not tie her up.’ It was a command, plain and simple. ‘She is injured.’

The elf snorted. ‘Your _wife_?’ He gave Kate a once over, clearly dismissing both her and the idea. ‘What would you want with her? She’s not one of yours, is she? She’s got no beard, she’s too skinny…’

‘And that must be the pot calling the kettle black,’ Kate countered. In their current position Thorin did not have the luxury of seeing her face, but he could picture it without effort. She must be staring daggers at him.

The elf – why did he seem so familiar? – merely laughed. ‘I am not trying to pass as a dwarf’s wife,’ he pointed out. The fact that he used the words that he did gave Thorin the impression that he was not buying the story they were trying to sell. They saw it as a trick they were using. And that, he knew, was no good news.

‘Thank goodness,’ the advisor shot back. ‘Because I could see a number of problems with that, to be honest, starting with the fact that you’re male, not female, which makes the term wife a little inappropriate.’

Some of the other elves tried and failed to hide their sniggers. Thorin himself currently experienced some trouble in trying to keep his face under control. The situation may be dangerous, but the baffled expression on the elf’s face almost made him forget their current predicament. Almost.

‘Are you insulting me?’ the elf demanded.

 _You would have known it if she did_. Thorin had heard far worse from her, back in the early days, when the quest had only just begun and they were at each other’s throats at least three times a day. Kate at least had not called him an idiot. But Thorin did wish that she would keep quiet. As much as he loved seeing his enemy taken down a peg or two – preferably more – it was also the quickest route to trouble and that they had enough of as it was already. But he also knew that trying to shut up Kate while she was in the middle of a rant was nothing short of impossible.

‘No,’ Kate said. ‘I had just hoped you’d recognise love when you happened upon it. Shame that you don’t. Though with your very limited intelligence I am not too surprised.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Just in case you’re wondering, that was the school example of a real insult.’ She was trembling still. Thorin had his arms around her and he could feel it. And this was not Kate being angry. The anger was there, but this was just to mask her fear. Thorin had seen it before. She was just lashing out as she had done several times before. It was her armour.

The elf was losing his composure and Thorin found that it was time to step in. ‘Catherine is my wife,’ he repeated, opting on her full name instead of the one she clearly preferred. _Catherine is only for formal introductions and people I don’t particularly like_. That was what she had said and he believed it a fair guess to say that this elf fell into both categories. ‘Why we married is none of your concern. And you will not lay another finger on her.’ It was words and nothing more. When it came down to it, there was nothing he could do to prevent it all from happening. And Thorin Oakenshield hated that, hated that he was so powerless.

‘Then we will see to this injury ourselves,’ the elf said. ‘We can see through your scheme, dwarf. Bind him.’ He almost sounded bored. ‘Elvaethor, see to this… lady’s wound.’ The short hesitation before he called Kate a lady was enough to make Thorin’s blood boil. ‘You seem to think her words so amusing, so you can be the one to look after her.’ The elf’s gaze went back to Thorin and it hardened. ‘Let go of your… wife, dwarf. We’d hate to hurt her in the process.’

He could feel Kate go rigid at the barely concealed threat. It was almost a reflex that made him only hold on tighter. The advisor was his friend and it went against everything he had ever learned to let her go into danger, especially on her own. He could not protect her there and that was what he had sworn to do.

‘You think me either faithless or insane, _elf_.’ He spat out the last word with as much loathing as he could muster. ‘Did you think I would willingly let my wife go to my very enemies without a fight? I will come with her or you’ll get neither of us.’ Mahal help him through this. This was a fight he was almost doomed to lose. There were still too many arrows pointed at their heads. And why did he have such trouble letting go of the woman? These were elves, not orcs. They may be his enemies, but they would never harm a woman intentionally, not even if they were of the dwarven race. And Kate was no dwarf. She would be safe, or as safe as she could be under the given circumstances.

The elf smirked. ‘How interesting, dwarf. It would appear that you are telling the truth.’

Thorin realised it then. It had been a test, to see if he truly was Kate’s husband or if he was just telling a story. And it had hardly cost him any effort to play the part at all. Oh, who was he fooling? It had not cost him any trouble at all. Everything he had said, apart from the obvious lies, had been the truth. And he wondered what that said about him and his relationship with the advisor. Mahal knew he had been thinking about this for the better part of the last two days. Their behaviour had fooled both elves and orcs and, as it would seem, their own companions as well. But Thorin did not even know his own mind when it came to the advisor and, admittedly, now was not really the time to delve into the specifics of a relationship that was probably not even there. All that really mattered now was that apparently they had made this convincing and that maybe their foolish scheme to pass as a married couple had not been such a foolish scheme at all.

‘You doubted my word?’ he demanded.

‘We have learned the hard way never to trust a dwarf’s word on anything.’ The tone of voice was ice-cold. ‘Do let go of your wife, dwarf. You would not want her to get hurt, would you? Elvaethor, now please.’

The redheaded elf did one pace forward, only succeeding in making Thorin strengthen his hold. He weighed his chances of grabbing Orcrist and fighting his way out of here, but the chances of success were slim to none. He was the only dwarf still unbound. The others would not be able to help him. But to let go was to admit defeat and Thorin wasn’t the kind of person to be defeated. He’d rather die. But there was still a company that needed him alive and if Kate’s book was right, they might just find a way out of Thranduil’s dungeons. Not all was lost yet. This was not yet the time for a heroic last stand.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Kate whispered. She was trying and failing to keep the tremor out of her voice, but Thorin understood. ‘Please. No fighting.’

‘If you get yourself killed, I’ll revive you and kill you again,’ he warned her, using one of the phrases she had used on Dwalin  during one of their sparring sessions – wording it only a little differently, more along the lines if he killed her, she’d revive herself to kill him. ‘Be safe.’ He found that he meant it. Well, she was a friend after all and he would be a fool to even try and tell himself that she was not a close friend of his, because she was.

The redheaded elf, Elvaethor, had come closer. ‘No harm will come to her,’ he vowed. Thorin looked the warrior in the eyes, but he could not see any deceit in his gaze. For all that it was worth, it seemed sincere, although with elves it was always hard to tell. Who knew what they were thinking? ‘I give you my word, …’ He waited for a name.

‘Frerin, son of Frár,’ Thorin lied without hesitating. His lies would not hold when they were led before Thranduil, but in this company no one seemed to have recognised him so far and these elves already thought dwarves were liars. There was not any reputation to be destroyed. And a false identity might, at least for the moment, keep his company safe for a little longer. As soon as his secret was out, things would be difficult, very difficult. ‘If you let any harm come to her, no place you choose to hide in will keep you safe.’ His oath demanded that of him. It was what he was bound to do by oath. Kate had let him promise very little, but that was one thing she had allowed him to swear and he would make good on it.

He reluctantly let go of his advisor, finding that she was led away immediately and that his arms were forced behind his back. It was painful and he strongly suspected his captors of making it so on purpose, but he did not allow a sound to cross his lips. He stared ahead, rising above their petty treatment of him. He was a descendant of Durin. He would not show weakness to these elves.

‘Hey, careful!’ Kate shouted. She was still led away, but she had half turned around, sending a furious glare at the elves. ‘Have you no shame? He’s done nothing to you!’ The tone was filled with righteous fury and indignity, but again there was terror as well. The advisor was scared. Thorin could see her eyes now and they could not hide her fear. For some reason it made him want to rush out to her, but the elves had taken away the possibility of doing so. His hands were literally tied and it frustrated it him. His hands clenched into fists, but it did nothing to help him. He was powerless. And he hated it. He had been powerless too often. He had not been able to do anything either when Smaug had taken the Mountain or when so many members of his family died at Azanulbizar.

‘How little you know,’ the leader of the elves scoffed at her. ‘Has your husband not told you anything?’  

‘He told me you never lifted a finger to help our people,’ Kate snarled, the anger hiding the fear. ‘I can now see the truth in his words. I would have loved to be wrong, but as it seems, his tales about your endless arrogance were not exactly exaggerated either.’

‘My lord Galas, I apologise.’ Elvaethor was clearly not at ease.  ‘My lady, would you please follow me?’

Thorin gave a curt nod at Kate. They both hated the situation they were in and the way they were treated, but it didn’t look like these elves were about to kill them off anytime soon. Like the leader had said, he wanted to lead them before his king, which meant that they had to be kept alive at least till then. It was not much of a consolation, but it was better than nothing. They could have been killed instantly, especially if their captors had believed them responsible for burning a sizeable chunk of their beloved forest, although in Thorin’s eyes it was a big improvement now.

But this was not even his biggest worry now. Elvaethor had helped him in putting a name to the face of the familiar elf. Galas, son of Eruvarn, who had been a brother of Thranduil’s wife. Thrór had made him learn the genealogies in his youth for diplomatic reasons. He had mixed up most names – in his opinion all those elvish names sounded the same and it didn’t help that all the elves looked alike to him as well – but Galas had made an impression when he had accompanied his uncle on a visit to Erebor three years before the Mountain fell to Smaug.

He had been haughty, arrogant and several variations on that theme, ascertaining that by the end of the first day every dwarf he had encountered was ready to throw him from the top of the main gate. Thorin had had to remind himself that acting on that impulse would seriously damage the already shaky relationship with the elves, or else he might not have stopped himself from making good on his wish to rid Erebor of this nuisance. Galas seemed to think that dwarves were lesser creatures, never wasting the opportunity to remind them that dwarves were no children of Ilúvatar. They were, or so the elf said, not even meant to be in the original plan of the world. To him that meant that they should bow to the elves and of course in that way he had not made many friends among Durin’s Folk.

Thorin found himself forced onto the ground with his men, next to Dwalin. ‘Hasn’t changed much, has he?’ the warrior grumbled under his breath. He had been there too when Galas had made an art out of insulting dwarves and unlike Thorin, he had a much harder time exercising control. Thorin and Balin had to physically restrain him to stop him from doing something rash.

‘Not at all,’ Thorin agreed. He kept his eyes on Thranduil’s nephew, not trusting him. There had been malice in his eyes and the dwarf did not like it at all that Kate had been taken somewhere out of his line of sight.

‘It’s a miracle he didn’t recognise you, laddie,’ Balin remarked softly.

But that was not such a miracle at all for Thorin. He had aged and changed and now he was also looking dishevelled from the fight and the long march. The appearance of elves remained ever the same, but dwarves changed. They changed slowly, but they changed. And Thorin knew he did not look like that young prince anymore. Galas however had not changed at all, both in appearance and in manners, which was why Thorin had been able to recognise him, but not the other way around. And to Galas all dwarves looked the same anyway. He could not be bothered to tell them apart when he did not think they were important.

There was however no doubt that Thranduil would be another matter entirely and that made Thorin almost shudder in fear.

 

***

 

There was something very unnerving and very frightening about being taken away from her companions, Kate found. Her heart was racing and her breathing was shallow. She knew these elves were not going to kill her. Apparently her theory about elves being the kings of propriety still held, but that didn’t mean that the same courtesy that was extended to her would be extended to her friends as well. There was something about the elves’ leader – Galas, she thought he was called – that set her teeth on edge. He was a dangerous man. He could as well have the word _danger_ written on his forehead.

‘There is no need to be afraid, my lady.’ Elvaethor was without doubt a kinder man, but he was an elf and he was under Galas’s command. It would be wise to be wary of him and his intentions. She had to watch her tongue most, she supposed. But she could do that if need be.

‘Isn’t there?’ she shot back. It took her most of her self-control to keep the inner trembling from becoming a visible trembling and anger was her best friend in such cases. ‘You have just tied up my friends as if they were common criminals, which is leaving the fact that you have paid us insult and neglected our wounded out of my consideration. Oh, and hang on, I seem to have forgotten about the part where your charming leader threatened to transform us into pin-cushions if we did not do his bidding. Do tell me why I should be unafraid.’

Elvaethor just smiled. ‘I would imagine that our ways seem strange to you.’

‘Bizarre is the word you’re looking for,’ Kate retorted. _Get a grip before you talk yourself into trouble, girl_ , common sense urged her, but Kate was beyond common sense now. She might be behaving like a rebellious teenager, but at least that kept the worry at bay. Because it frightened her that the elves had found them here. They had been supposed to be safe. Their chosen road would keep them far from the reach of elves, which had been part of the reason why they had avoided the elf path in the first place. And now they were at their mercy all the same. And all of that without Gandalf’s meddling. ‘Do tell me, is this how you treat all the travellers on your road?’

Elvaethor smiled indulgently as he beckoned for her to sit down on a piece of wood, possibly the trunk of a fallen tree. ‘There are not many travellers on this road these days, my lady.’

Kate reluctantly sat down. It made her feel vulnerable, but there was not much choice. ‘And I wonder why that is,’ she muttered sarcastically. ‘What the hell do you want with us anyway? We’ve done you no wrong!’

At least in the book Thranduil had reason to arrest the company, because he believed them to have attacked his people. Kate would understand why the elven king was not happy with such a thing. But in the book it had not seemed like Thorin and Thranduil had even known each other. In real life they did and Kate was positive that was not a good thing. It could endanger the whole quest.

But Bilbo was still running free. And as long as the hobbit was still alive and free, not all hope was lost. They just needed to find a way to inform him of the information in the book, if he hadn’t read it for himself by then. It was in his possession now, so Kate hoped he would have the good sense to pick it up and read it. It could only be useful for the hobbit to learn what needed to be done, especially now they were apparently back to following the book. And that was what it looked like now.

‘Do you not think it suspicious that you all survived the forest fire, while the orcs all died?’ Elvaethor asked. It was obvious that the elf did not believe the tale they had told them, or rather, the tale _she_ had told them.

‘We hid in a cave,’ Kate said. And they had, even if she was leaving out most of the story. ‘The orcs tried to get in as well, but we killed them.’ And when she caught the elf’s disbelieving glance, she added: ‘We lost one of our number in the fight. Do you honestly think we set your sodding forest on fire for the sheer bloody fun of it? Did you honestly believe we would set the fire alight while we were in the bloody middle of it?’ That was of course exactly what she had done, but that was need to know information and Elvaethor had no need to know. He may appear kind and gentle, but Kate was not fooled. His allegiance lay with his people and he was probably trying to question her.

 _Wiser to keep your mouth well and truly shut then_ , she thought, right before another thought hit her. Maybe she could just play the naïve female and blurt out the story Thorin and she had agreed on. The impression of a naïve young woman she had just given to her captors might work in her advantage. The elves would probably not doubt it, not when it came from her. It was quite obvious that at least that lord and this one – why couldn’t elves just have names one could remember and pronounce without too much trouble? – did not think Kate was a clever individual, if only because they thought her married to Thorin.

 _But they don’t know you’re Kate and they don’t know he’s Thorin_. The advisor was not entirely sure why Thorin had given their captors a false name, although it quite possibly had something to do with that old feud and he wanted to go unrecognised as long as possible, but ever since he had given those elves the names, they had become Catherine and Frerin. The rest of the story would be unchanged, Kate supposed, apart from the fact that they would leave out any mention of the quest and Thorin’s true identity. And she could do that, she believed.

‘Good grief, elves are even more stupid than I thought already,’ she muttered, ending the speech she had begun before her plan had formed.

Elvaethor was now seeing to her wound. He removed the bandages and it took Kate a lot of effort not to curse out loud at the pain it caused. She had to play a role now and using some of the words from her own world might blow her cover. A young woman from this world would have no business using words like that. The dwarves had been giving her quite enough stares. Still, keeping herself from swearing at the pain was a difficult thing to do when the elf’s fingers were busy carrying out an examination of her wound and it hurt.

‘Can you be a bit more careful?’ The words were snapped and rude, but as far as Kate knew no rule in existence ever decreed that a captive had to be nice to their captor, so she didn’t bother trying. Elvaethor may mean well or he may be pretending in order to get information out of her, but he was a captor all the same and Kate found she did not react well to it. It scared her, especially since she could no longer see her friends. Good grief, even Dori’s endless fussing would be welcome now. ‘You’re hurting me.’ _So keep your bloody hands to yourself._

‘It’s well looked after.’ The elf sounded surprised.

Normally she wouldn’t have bothered with a reply, but right now it set her off. ‘We have a perfectly capable healer in our midst,’ she growled at the elf. The more time she spent around those pointy-eared fellows, the more irritating she thought them. They really thought they were the top of the bill and all the others were just a bunch of fools who could achieve nothing on their own. ‘Do grow up and get yourself a sense of realism, will you? We are no savages. That’s where you get us mixed up with orcs and I don’t think that’s a comparison we’d like.’ She had seen the same attitude with the elves in Rivendell, even though they had hidden it behind a mask of polite indifference that had annoyed the advisor almost just as much. Of course there was a longstanding dislike on both sides for the other race, but did that mean they just had to be blind to their good qualities? _Hang on, do elves even_ have _good qualities?_

What was interesting, though, was that Kate had found herself agreeing with the dwarves a lot. She had thought she would think the elves more interesting when she’d meet them for real. They had an amazing, if complex, history and meeting them should have been interesting. Instead she found herself increasingly annoyed at their manners – or rather lack thereof – and the whole elves-are-God’s-gift-to-the-earth-attitude. They were acting as if they owned the world and the other races were lesser beings. The Rivendell elves had not been too bad – they might not even been doing it on purpose – but these Mirkwood elves were getting on her nerves badly.

 _Dwarf at heart_ , a little voice in the back of her head commented. It would not be too bad considering she had to pretend to be married to one, but something about it didn’t sit well with her. She wasn’t anything like that and by the time this quest was finished, she would have to go back home and learn to live with the ordinary people, people who didn’t have orcs haunting their every step, people who didn’t go on quests to reclaim lost homelands, people who had never seen anything worse than an economic crisis. For some reason even something so big seemed trivial here, maybe because economy was just not that important on this quest. They had bigger things to occupy their minds, like orcs trying to kill them and elves capturing them.

But going back home would be problematic. There would be the whole explanation about where on earth she had been to begin with. The advisor still had no idea what she would tell her family and the police that didn’t sound totally insane, wasn’t the truth and was at least plausible enough to not have people investigate it extensively. And then there was the problem of having to explain her scars and there was no way she could just dismiss those. But there was the aspect of learning to live in that world as well and that was something that might prove hardest. She would actually have to teach herself to not look over her shoulder every day. She would have to relearn the customs of her world too. While she was here she had changed and the advisor knew that, once she was back home again, those things would not be unlearned again with a simple snap of the fingers.

Kate deliberately allowed herself to think about this as Elvaethor busied himself with her wound, to distract herself from the burning ache. People at home had in general not been through what she had been through, still as shallow as ever, only worrying about a cancelled appointment or a deadline they had to make, while Kate had seen orcs, forest fires and wargs, things she was sure she would never be able to get out of her head again.

Weirdest thing was perhaps that she could handle it. It wasn’t easy and if she ever got a decent night’s sleep again she was sure she would get nightmares, but for now she could swallow what happened to her, accept it as reality and move on, keep going. And it frightened her. She was not a hero. Kate Andrews was a coward if ever there’d been one. Every time there was a danger she wanted to do nothing more than run and hide and never show her face again, but at the same time she had shouted insult at the Defiler, had knocked out an orc with a shield and had been the one to come up with the most insane plan in the history of both her world and Middle Earth. She had changed, she realised, and she could not say if it was for the better. She somehow doubted it.

‘You will not answer my questions?’ Elvaethor’s voice brought her back to the here and now. It did help that he was quite finished poking at her wound. The tone of voice was both weary and annoyed.

Kate realised she had been miles away. To be quite honest, she had not even noticed that the elf had been talking to her for at least five to ten minutes while he had been seeing to her injuries, but she had just zoned out, looking right ahead with a scowl on her face. That must have given Elvaethor the impression that she was just refusing to talk to him out of stubbornness and spite, and not because she had not heard him.

She could hardly stop herself from smirking. This had not actually been what she had intended, but maybe it was a better way to deal with this after all. It was  very dwarvish thing to do at the very least and she was after all still pretending to be married to one. At any rate it was better than that childish display she had given him before. That had not been very dignified. This approach was something Thorin might even approve of. Come to think of it, it might be something he could have done.

‘Did you think that I would?’ she questioned, resisting the urge to look at him, instead opting on watching at that point right in front of her. How on earth did Thorin pull off that ice-cold behaviour? Kate found it rather hard to copy, especially when she herself was more the explosive type. _Fire and ice have never been known to mix well._

‘Catherine, what woman would marry a dwarf of her own volition?’ Elvaethor sounded downright disgusted, even if he did try, and fail, to hide it.

‘This one,’ Kate countered. It was an easy answer, even if infuriated her that this had apparently been the topic of the very one-sided conversation. It should not have been a surprise after Bree and Rivendell, but it was becoming annoying. True, the advisor had not become an advisor of her own free will, but she no longer felt as if she was being forced to go with the company. It was different now. ‘And I do not believe my marriage is of any concern to you. Your lord ordered you to see to my wounds, which you have now done. I ask of you to return me to my company.’ There, Thorin could not have done it better himself. It was indifferent, slightly bored and commanding. Kate liked it.

‘But there are bruises on your arm,’ Elvaethor pointed out. He sounded genuinely concerned for her wellbeing, which was maybe the most annoying thing about this. And it had been the same in Bree. She had been treated like she was some kind of victim. It was as if the entire world population seemed to think that dwarves were untrustworthy and that was not how Kate had come to know them. And it annoyed her.

It annoyed her even more that Elvaethor was telling the truth. There were bruises on her arms from where Thorin had gripped her for whatever reason it was at the time. They were tender and not all of them had gone yet, but they had never been made with the intention to hurt her, Kate knew. The chances of successfully explaining that to this elf however were non-existent. He would not believe her, might even accuse her of suffering from Stockholm Syndrome or whatever the local equivalent was.

‘I told you already that this is none of your business,’ Kate told him coolly. Trying to defend Thorin would not help her at all. Snapping at this elf might just do the trick. ‘And you’re my captor. You’re not in the position to question anyone his treatment of me when you are the one robbing me of my freedom.’ She conjured up as condescending a tone and glare as she could manage, trying to drive the message home that she was not answerable to this man, no matter what he had deluded himself into thinking.

‘Lady Catherine…’ he began.

‘I asked to be brought back to my company,’ Kate interrupted. ‘I neither wanted nor asked you to delve into the specifics of my personal life, which are, I repeat, no concern of yours. Now, if you could take me to my friends, I’d be glad of it.’

‘My lady, it is clear to me that you are a victim. You needn’t go back.’ Elvaethor still seemed sincere, even if it was bloody hard to tell. What on earth could he possibly want with her? He wasn’t offering this out of the goodness of his heart, she was sure. If the advisor had learned one thing about elves on this journey, it was that they always had an ulterior motive. Nothing they said or did could be taken at face value. And there was another reason why she appreciated the dwarves. They may be rude, they may be blunt and they may be terribly ill-mannered, but they were honest, brutally so. This shady game the elves were playing made her skin crawl.

Her irritation and fear, even though that emotion had now taken a backseat, made it almost too easy to glower at him again. ‘Am I a damsel in distress now?’ she demanded. ‘So far I think the only distress I may experience is caused by you and your friends. Now, kindly take me back before I have to ask again. I have no ambition to get away from my husband and I would appreciate it if you never suggested so again.’ Kate could not even begin to wonder when she had perfected that ice queen mode, but she liked it. And it seemed to work better than shouting. Maybe she should model her conduct in these cases a little more on the dwarf king’s than she had originally thought. It appeared to be working at any rate.

Elvaethor looked defeated, which was strange, considering he was the laughing winner in this case and quite possibly hundreds of years her senior. It was a little unnerving, but Kate found herself quite incapable of being impressed by things like that. She guessed she was running on adrenaline now. Later, quite possibly after a lot of sleep – if she was ever going to get any – then it might occur to her just how unlikely this even was.

‘Why would you want to remain with him?’ the elf asked. He truly seemed puzzled.

Kate got up. ‘There’s this little thing called loyalty,’ she informed him. ‘Apparently it is an unknown concept to you, but it isn’t to me. I have made my choice.’

And she had, she supposed. It wasn’t just words anymore. It had ceased being words the moment she had taken that oath to make this quest her own. Maybe it had been a foolish thing to do, but with something of a shock the advisor realised that she had not regretted it. That was a strange notion, a little bewildering to her. She had truly believed she would regret it within the hour. But these dwarves had become her friends, her family, as real as the friends and family she had left behind in her own world. The parting eventually would not come easy, but that was for another time.

Elvaethor looked a bit chastised – as he should – but he also gave the impression of being curious, intrigued. That made Kate’s skin crawl as well. She was just a curiosity to him. He might care about her, but not too much. She was just a mystery: the human woman who had lost her mind and married a dwarf. Ladies and gentlemen, come and see! She was starting to regret her decision to go with this story, even if she could not for the life of her come up with another one. The truth might do, although that might just made her look like even more of an oddity than she already was: the girl from another world with knowledge of the future. And no, that was something she could do without.

All in all it was just a relief to see her friends again, tied up though they may be. Thorin’s eyes immediately settled on her, silently asking if she was well. It was the commander kind of look, but there was genuine worry there as well, which was refreshing after Elvaethor’s probing about her personal life.

She grimaced, rolled her eyes and then gave a curt nod in response, which Thorin, judging by his facial expression, translated correctly as: _it was hell, the elf was a right pain in my arse, but I’ve survived. It could have been worse._

If Galas had been the one to see to her injuries, she was not so sure she would have come out alive. He seemed to hate all the dwarves with a passion – which, for the moment, included her because of her assumed marriage – and the alarming thing was that he was not alone in that. Most of the elves seemed to harbour serious dislike towards the dwarven race, looking at them as if they were worth less than the dirt under their fine boots. Elvaethor was the least infuriating of the lot, it would seem. He was more like the silly elves they had met in Rivendell. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but it was something.

‘We cannot tie the lady up,’ he informed his leader. ‘Her wound will open immediately if we do.’ So that was what this whole business had been about. It was not concern for her, not on Galas’s part anyway, but rather to check the truth of Thorin’s words. It made Kate want to hit something or, better still, someone. It would be perfect if that someone just so happened to be called Galas and she managed to land a hit where it really hurt.

‘We cannot allow her to wander freely either,’ the elf lord said. He gave Kate a once over and then smirked. ‘Tie her to her husband, Elvaethor. She appears to like dwarves, so she won’t have too much problems with it.’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Charming_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you like the new elvish characters. Both Galas and Elvaethor have important parts to play later on, but they are pretty hard to write, but then that's true for all elves.
> 
> Next time, Thorin finds himself on the receiving end of Elvaethor's questions. Until then, reviews are very welcome. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	45. Insult and Injury

_And there is my first meeting with the Mirkwood elves in a nutshell. It probably explains why things have always been rather tense, although the best – or worst, depending on whatever way you choose to look at it – was still to come. We had only just been captured and there was still a march north to look forward to and the meeting with aforementioned elf king after that._

_And of course I wasn’t making things any better. Well, at least I gave Thorin a fair warning that me and my big mouth just might talk us all into trouble and it would soon turn out that those words had prophetic value. You of course already know that Galas is Thranduil’s nephew. I had no idea who he was and thus no idea who it was I was insulting. Thorin of course did know, but by the time he got around to warning me, the damage had already been done._

_I blame the fact that I was tired, annoyed and still uncertain about what was actually going to happen to us for the fact that I didn’t just think_ Charming _when Galas ordered me to be tied to Thorin, but I actually said it out loud. As it was silent, it was only better audible for the people around us._

_That had been the wrong thing to say. I had been pushing my luck before, but this was taking a lot of unnecessary risks. I was angry and I didn’t check my tongue as much as I probably should have, a trait I unfortunately seem to have passed on to you, Jack. And Galas already disliked me after I had paid him insult before, even though he had seemed to be only amused at the time. He was not amused anymore. ‘Remember your place, woman,’ he snapped at me, which for some reason was quite threatening and a clue that I should really keep quiet. ‘I am nobility and you will treat me as such.’_

_It wasn’t wise what I did then and I would strongly advise all of you never to follow my example, not even when you’re as tired and angry as I was then. As satisfactory as it is for the moment, the trouble that follows just isn’t worth it. Take it from one who knows. ‘If I think you deserve it, then I will,’ I shot back, ignoring Thorin’s muttered protests. If he’d had his hands free he would probably have clasped them over my mouth to prevent me from blurting out anything else, but he hadn’t, so I cheerfully went on. ‘For the moment all I can see is an arrogant elf whose mouth is an awful lot bigger than his brain.’_

_That of course had been the wrong thing to say. It was a childish thing to do as well, very foolish and hardly worthy of a future queen, although, in my defence, I didn’t know I was one. Galas just forgot everything he had ever learned about how one treats women and knocked me over the head. With the hilt of his sword. And that, my dears, may be the reason why you’ve never seen your father allow that elf to come into the Mountain…_

 

The first thing seeping through to Kate’s brain was that she had a splitting headache and there was an understatement if ever she’d heard one. It felt like her head had somehow ended up between hammer and anvil and someone was now merrily hammering away on her left temple, from where the pain spread to the rest of her skull. Kate could not remember having such a headache since the time she had accidentally walked against a lantern post while she was looking over her shoulder back at one of her friends.

The next thing she realised was that her head wasn’t the only thing hurting, although it was by far the worst. Her arm was still stinging and itching, but in the light of recent events the advisor found that it was rather easy to ignore.

She felt a little disorientated, but for just this once she had no questions about how in the world she had ended up the way she had. It was that elf, Galas, who had knocked her out after she had accused him of having a very small brain, true though it may be. She recalled the exploding stars, and _not_ in a good way, as his weapon connected with her head and she remembered the falling as well. There was also the sound of a roaring lion in that memory, which was strange, because Mirkwood may be home to all kinds of strange creatures, but she didn’t think lions would live in it. She dismissed that part of the memory as imagination. No one could really think straight when they had been whacked over the head with the hilt of a sword anyway, could they?

It was a sense of self-preservation that urged her to lie quietly and figure out what was going on around her before she made a move. She might have been reckless, but she wasn’t suicidal and she had absolutely no ambition to get struck down again. It would be better to find out what was going on and act on that information.

Her surroundings at least were quiet, or as quiet as they would be in a camp. There was snoring somewhere not too far away from her that she could easily identify as Bombur’s – his snores always were the loudest – and several other dwarves’. It did not mean that the elves had gone. Kate assumed they just didn’t snore. It didn’t fit with the kind of beings they were. Yet the thought that she could not determine where they were made her uneasy.

There was breathing closer by, just a little distance away from her left ear. Dwarf, she guessed. No elf would willingly come that close to her, she supposed, and the arms that were currently wrapped around her torso took away any doubt she might have entertained. No elf would have arms that thick. However, she was under the impression that all her companions had been tied up. They should not have their hands free at all.

She must have stirred a little, for someone spoke. ‘Catherine?’ The voice was familiar, very much so. It just wasn’t normal for him to address her by her full name. The shortened version of it, yes, and in the past her surname as well, but Catherine was something he had only used in Rivendell.

She forced her eyes open, but there wasn’t much to see. ‘Tho…?’

Thorin did not give her the chance to finish, laying a finger against her lips to prevent her from speaking, making Kate realise that she had been about to blow their covers by just blurting out Thorin’s real name. Things being the way they were there was bound to be at least one elf standing guard. And with their sharp hearing they would doubtlessly pick up everything they said.

‘So,’ she began again, hoping that whatever elf had been eavesdropping would dismiss the th-sound she had just made as a small lisp on her part. ‘What happened?’ The answer to that was pretty obvious, but it was the best thing she could come up with to rectify her little slip up. And people weren’t supposed to be very original when they had just been knocked out, were they? ‘After I passed out?’ she added.

Thorin did not respond immediately, not to her question anyway. ‘Are you well?’ he asked. Kate could not dismiss that worried tone as a product of her imagination. This was too real. He was truly worried for her. She did try to dismiss the warm feeling his concern left her with though. This was hardly the time to think about such things. ‘Catherine, how bad is it?’

Kate grimaced. ‘Could have been worse,’ she told him. ‘My head feels like someone’s tap-dancing on top of it and my arm is aching as well, but it really could have been worse.’ She supposed that was the truth. The elf could have cut her head off for insulting him. But mostly she was just trying to belittle what happened to her in order to stop Thorin’s fussing. She may be getting used to the more relaxed side of him, but him worrying over her to such an extent was still a bridge too far. ‘Could have been better too if I had not let my mouth get away with me,’ she added. ‘Who the hell did I insult actually?’

‘His name is Galas.’ Thorin’s reply was nothing more than a growl and suddenly Kate wondered if the lion she had heard just before she had passed out had not merely been Thorin in a fit of temper. It would explain a few things.

‘I worked out that part for myself, you know,’ she commented. Talking and thinking at least distracted her from the pain to some extent. ‘But who is he? Someone pretty high up, I reckon?’

‘He’s Thranduil’s nephew.’ The growl had yet to disappear from Thorin’s voice.

Kate moaned. ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ she begged. ‘Please tell me that I did not just insult elven royalty.’ It had to be the most stupid thing she had ever done and that included setting an entire forest aflame to get rid of orcs. No, of course she had to go and insult the nephew of the king who held their fate in his hands. _Me and my big mouth_.

‘You’ve never had a problem with insulting royalty before,’ Thorin whispered close to her ear, so softly the advisor doubted the elves would be able to make it out.

She poked him with her right arm. ‘That’s different,’ she insisted. ‘At least that royalty didn’t have the power to throw me into a dungeon or chop off my head whenever it suited him.’ She chuckled, but quickly became serious again. ‘I managed to get us into trouble now, didn’t I?’

‘We were already in trouble.’ He exhaled audibly. Kate supposed it was night and they were still in Mirkwood, because she could not see a single thing. She had to go on what she could hear and feel. And that wasn’t terribly much either.

‘Yes, but I did probably make it worse.’ She wasn’t really trying to take either the blame or the glory for her great stupidity, but it wasn’t exactly deniable either. She’d best take responsibility when she had to. ‘This Galas, he does have a temper. Bless me, it’s even worse than yours.’

This time she was rewarded with a low chuckle. ‘Are you insulting me?’

It felt good to try and lighten things up a bit since they were so dark and gloomy at the moment. It distracted her from the headache, but it mostly distracted her from her own thoughts, which weren’t exactly cheerful. Galas had a temper and it would be safe to say that she had gotten on his bad side in a matter of minutes. Now that would not have been such a difficult job anyway, not with Galas already having a strong dislike of dwarves and their associates.

‘I am always insulting you,’ she countered playfully. ‘I have done so since we first met. I’m hardly going to change now.’

‘Mr High and Mighty,’ Thorin said.

Kate chuckled. ‘Not my proudest moment,’ she admitted. ‘Though, in my defence, you had just accused me of being a liar.’

It was a show, she knew, and a good one too. Thorin knew that as well. They had to convince the elves that they were a couple and this would do it. They used elements of truth, elements present in their working relationship and friendship as well. But neither of those two things normally involved Thorin’s arms around her, his breath tickling her face or their bodies being so close together. They had been close before. Kate had slept with her head in his lap and Thorin had held her in the cave in the Misty Mountains as well. That had been a little like this, except that at the time they had been kept apart by one heavy cloak and a lot of dwarvish armour. And they had not been lying under one single blanket like they were now. The lines between reality and show were becoming blurred and it frightened the advisor, badly.

Because no matter how much she disliked the thought, she was getting closer to Thorin. It had happened without her even realising, but by now it was far too late to do anything about it. They were drawn together, like magnets. Maybe they had been from the beginning. Ever since she had come to know the dwarf they had sought each other out. At first it had been for the fight, the strange thrill of finding someone who was as good as this arguing game as the other was. Kate was not sure what Thorin got out of it, but that was the reason for her.

But she had disliked him at the time, might even have hated him, although that might be taking things a bit too far. There had not been love, no affection at all. What there had been, what there still was, was chemistry. Something just sparked whenever they got together. It was that very same thing that had caused them to be real friends and allies.

Affection was here now, love was not. No matter what her friends and family thought, she was not in love with Thorin Oakenshield. A man and a woman could be friends without being romantically involved, even if one added chemistry to the mix. But they needed to put on a show for these people and while their teasing was close to normal – or what had become normal to them over the past few weeks – it was different at the same time and Kate blamed the close proximity to the dwarf for that. And it was even more intimate because Thorin’s armour had been taken from him and only the fabric of their tunics separated them now. It frightened Kate, because she was starting to lose sight of what was real and what was not. Would Thorin experience this in the same way? If she’d not have a headache already, she would have gotten one then, if only from all this thinking that did not provide her with any answers whatsoever.

‘I was wrong.’ The dwarf’s voice was soft, but intense, truly admitting he had been wrong to doubt her.

‘Hear, hear,’ Kate muttered, meaning to tease, but finding herself incapable of doing so whole-heartedly after he had just told her in all sincerity he had been unfair in his treatment of her. She just couldn’t handle this. The teasing she could and the same could be said about the shouting. But when this softer side came out, she didn’t know what to do with herself. That was bewildering and, on a different level, frightening as well. ‘Frerin, son of Frár, admits he’s wrong. I never thought I’d live to see it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I was wrong too, when I called you Mr High and Mighty.’ She did not know exactly where the words came from, but they felt right, like something that should be said, even if she couldn’t fathom what for. Maybe, she pondered, it was because he had admitted to being wrong, she ought to do the same, because it was fair.

She could feel a finger softly brushing some of her hair away from her face. ‘Why?’

 _Why are you touching me like that? Can the elves see in this utter darkness? Is this a show you’re putting on?_ If that was so, then she was fooled as well. What was his game? What was he playing at? ‘What?’ she retorted, trying not to show her confusion. ‘Would you like me to think you were still Mr High and Mighty?’ She conjured up an amused bark of laughter. ‘I wouldn’t have married you if you were.’ Maybe that was what was scaring her, the plausibility of it all. Had she been an elf, she would not have doubted the existence of such a relationship. They made it convincing. And in some strange parallel universe it was something that might just have happened.

 _Get a freaking grip on yourself, girl_ , she told herself. _This is not one of your fanfictions. You ought to know that by now. It’s a show, nothing more. Good grief, you must have a severe concussion if you’re starting to think like that._ This was probably common sense making an appearance again, which bothered Kate for reasons she could not quite comprehend.

 _Shut. Up_ , she thought back at it. This was not the moment to get distracted. It might be better to just call it a night and go back to sleep before things could get out of hand. But she was too awake now. Sleeping was out of the question at the moment.

 _Catherine Sarah Andrews, don’t you dare fall for this dwarf_. Common sense cheerfully ignored her attempts to shut it up, but nothing new there. It was a part of her and she wasn’t in the habit of listening to anyone, apparently not even to herself. _It’s impossible. He belongs in this world, you don’t. You need to go back home when this is all over. And this is not a romance story. This isn’t even a story. You’re not some lovesick teenage girl. You’re an adult, so start acting like one._

Kate gave a mental snort. _He doesn’t even like me like that, which makes this discussion pointless either way._

‘You have grown up a little, if you’ll forgive me for that horrible pun,’ she added. This mental discussion was not only pointless, but rather alarming as well and she needed to distract herself from it and she did it in the best way she knew: teasing Thorin. ‘Believe it or not, you are a good man… dwarf… whatever. You know what I mean.’ And she did mean that. Playing it close to the truth made this show easier to pull off. It also meant that her feelings might be in some form of unspecified danger, but that was something to worry about later, after they had escaped from the elves.

That finger was still toying with a lock of her hair that must have escaped from her braid some time ago. Now there was a distraction if ever she’d known one. He made it bloody hard for her to concentrate. Of course, that could just be the fault of the headache. It would be safer to blame it on that.

 _Good grief, all it takes is a blow to the head to get so seriously delusional._ Galas had better not repeat this treatment, because in that case she might start to fear for her sanity.

Thorin chuckled again, hand still playing with her hair. Under the given circumstances she could hardly demand of him to get out of her hair, both literally and figuratively. The elves would suspect something was off if she did that. ‘I always knew there had to be a reason.’

It was a game they were playing, a dangerous one, a frightening one, but at the same time the thrill of doing this well made Kate smile, bordering on a smirk. No one could see it since her face was very nearly pressed against Thorin’s chest. Here she was, Kate Andrews, aspiring journalist, outwitting the most ancient and wise – supposedly so, admittedly – creatures to walk this earth. And it didn’t seem to be much trouble at all. It just happened without much of an effort. It was thrilling in its very own way, even if they were still said elves’ captives.

But they would get out of this situation. Elves were not orcs and none of them had shown some serious plans to separate heads from torsos yet. If Bilbo read the book, or she got a chance to tell him about the loophole in elvish security, then they might get out again and no elf would ever see it coming.

‘You knew it already, didn’t you?’ Kate shot back. ‘And speaking of things we weren’t talking about, how come you’re not tied up?’ She frowned. ‘How come that I am not tied up either? You won’t hear me protest, but I was wondering. Are they not afraid we will make a run for it?’

This was decidedly safer territory than the flirting and Kate had been wondering about this matter already. Her memories of the moment before she had been knocked out were a little hazy, but she was quite sure it had featured a Thorin with his hands tied behind his back. And he had been very unhappy about it too. She was sure that had happened. Then why was she lying in his arms right now?

‘We _are_ tied up.’ The growl was back in his voice. He took Kate’s right hand and guided it to his waist. Before she could even start to wonder what that was supposed to mean she felt rope underneath her fingers. A short investigation made her realise it went all around him.

‘Charming,’ she commented.

‘Follow the rope,’ the dwarf ordered.

Kate did as she was told, finding the knot and following the cord from there on, a little surprised when she found it ended with her. She was tied up in a similar fashion, bound by the same piece of rope that held Thorin as well. _What on earth…?_

A memory resurfaced then. She recalled Galas’s smirking face as Elvaethor  brought her back after his examination of her injuries. He had been the one to tell the elf lord that they could not tie Kate up as they had done the other dwarves, because her wound would surely open again. The Mirkwood elves were an annoying lot and far less civilised than the elves of Rivendell, but it would seem that they were incapable of mistreating a woman, even one they considered married to their enemy.

For one glorious moment Kate had allowed herself to think that she would get away with it, that she might have some freedom, which she could then use to try and find a way to get away from these elves. But then Galas had turned the situation to his advantage. _Tie her to her husband, Elvaethor_ , he had said. _She appears to like dwarves, so she won’t have too much problems with it._ And that remark had been the entire reason why things had gotten so badly out of hand and why she was lying here with that massive headache in the first place. Bloody elves.

‘We are actually tied together?’ she asked incredulously. What was this, some elvish form of humour? If that was the case, she couldn’t say she appreciated it. ‘Are they not afraid we will try to run for it together?’ Even elves could not be that stupid, even though Kate’s opinion on their intelligence was not too good at the moment.

‘The end of this cord is tied around a tree,’ Thorin informed her. ‘And it’s elvish rope.’ He spoke the word elvish as if it was something particularly nasty, something akin to orcs or wargs. ‘The knots won’t come undone for us.’

‘Crap.’ That was probably the best word to describe this situation. Come to think of it, these elves were rather clever. It would seem that they knew what they were doing. That should not have been too much of a surprise and it wasn’t. It was just very unpleasant to realise there was nowhere they could possibly run to, nothing they could do for the moment. If this was the state of things, then they could not reasonably do something until they were in Thranduil’s dungeons and Kate had no ambition to let things come so far. The thought of being locked up frightened her.

 _Keep this up and you’ll be scared of everything_ , her brain commented.

How did the fanfiction heroines deal with all this? Stupid question, she knew. Those stories weren’t based on reality. Most of them were not realistic in the slightest. They were just the consequence of how a specific author wanted the heroine to act. Realism had nothing to do with it. The only useable advise she had in this case came from her friend and ally. _Do not let them see your fear. They want you to fear them. Do not give them the satisfaction._ That had been his words in Goblin-town, but they were true for whatever dangerous situation they were in.

Thorin exhaled. The action tickled her face. ‘Sleep, Catherine.’ It was strange to hear him say her full name. It almost sounded as if he cared and in quite a different manner than a normal friend would do. ‘Sleep while you can.’

‘If you do the same,’ Kate countered. ‘Can’t have you fall asleep on me tomorrow.’

‘I am not sure if I can.’ In the dark Thorin was just a voice, but he sounded vulnerable. ‘How can I rest now?’ Kate could hear the words he didn’t say. _How can I sleep while the quest is at risk? How can I sleep when we are all prisoners of elves? How can I sleep when I was the one that led them into danger?_

She bit her lip. ‘You’re no use to anyone like this,’ she told him. ‘You need your strength if you want to fight another day.’ They all did. Heaven knew they needed all the strength they had if they wanted to come out of this again.

 

***

 

Kate was right. She was right in saying that he would be better off if he slept to regain some of his strength. The only ones to benefit from his exhaustion were the elves and Thorin would hate to give them a victory on a silver platter. And there was not much he could reasonably do while he was tied to the advisor and the tree.

Nevertheless sleep did not come easy and he woke several times during the night, lying awake for what felt like hours before he drifted off again, his head filled with worried thoughts he could not get rid of. Kate had fallen asleep fairly quickly. Thorin envied her for it. She was no less displeased with the situation, nor was she any less worried about the future, but at least she had the good sense to sleep while she could.

It was even worse that it was dark and he could not see a single thing. He had the strong suspicion that the elves with their stronger senses could see perfectly in here and that too did absolutely nothing to cheer him up. Quite the contrary, it made him almost afraid.  They could stab him in the back before he could even notice them. Thorin did not think they would actually do that, but the feeling remained.

When morning came, it was a relief. He had been able to snatch bits and pieces of sleep throughout the night, and when he opened his eyes the worst dark had gone. The world was still coloured in greys and blacks, but he could at least make out shapes. Most of his company was still lying down and the tell-tale snoring from Bombur and his brother betrayed that they at least had drifted off to sleep eventually. Kate too was still sleeping. During the night she had snuggled up to him, left hand resting against his heart, the right one under her head as some kind of pillow. In sleep her face was relaxed and peaceful. No nightmares had haunted her sleep. He was grateful for that. On the other hand there were the daily nightmares to make up for the ones they did not have whilst sleeping.

And a nightmare the coming days would be, of that he had no doubt. Thorin did not fear the march ahead, or the humiliation the elves would surely inflict on them, but he did fear the confrontation with Thranduil, because that was one thing they would not be able to avoid and then all their plans would die. And escaping now would be impossible. They had already left the road in favour of some elven path that led north. Even if they could make some miraculous escape and they would be able to find the road again, there was no doubt the elves would catch up to them eventually. It was not a scenario he looked forward to, but he had admittedly been in tighter spots.

At least they might have a way to escape Thranduil’s dungeons and Thorin forced himself to focus on that. There was a way. He would not spend the rest of his life in a dungeon, no matter what Thranduil thought. And Thorin did not think the elf king was aware of the loophole in his security. Thorin was in no mood to point it out to him. It might yet be their salvation.

By the looks of things the elves had not been sleeping at all. The one who had seen to Kate’s injury the previous day, the redheaded elf by the name of Elvaethor, was leaning against a nearby tree. He looked puzzled and that puzzled look was directed at Thorin and the woman who was still sleeping against him. If he was right, then the two of them still looked like lovers – Kate’s hand against his chest would only emphasise the non-existent relationship – and that was bound to confuse the elves. About that subject elves, orcs and goblins had been in absolute agreement: marriage between different races did not happen. It was the things stories were made of, things that had happened in ages long ago. It did not happen in the world today.

Thorin met the elf’s eyes and silently challenged him. There was something the dwarf did not quite trust about this one, even if he did seem less disagreeable than his companions. He for one did not seem to hate them as much as Galas did – although he would be pressed hard to find anyone who hated dwarves more than the elf king’s nephew – but he looked at Kate in a way that made Thorin’s skin crawl. He looked at the advisor as if she was some kind of curiosity, a rare object to be put on display for all to see, the way the Arkenstone had been placed above Thrór’s throne.

The elf caught his gaze and reacted to it with a relaxed smile, conveying the message that he didn’t think Thorin’s opinion of him very important. He rather seemed to think it entertaining, something the dwarf had a problem with for more than one reason.

‘Why do you look at me in such a way, Frerin, son of Frár?’ he asked, strolling over to them and inviting himself to sit next to them, closer than Thorin was comfortable with.

The dwarf was not as tall as the elf, not by a long way, but he could save some of his dignity by sitting up, which lessened the height difference considerably. Kate made a sleepy noise of protest when he moved, but did not wake. Thorin was grateful for that, because this was a conversation he would prefer to have without her knowing. He lifted her head into his lap. The advisor did not stir.

‘You know why,’ Thorin told the elf. ‘I will not have you look at my wife that way.’ He did not think Elvaethor desired Kate for himself. Elves did not fall for human women for multiple reasons. The mortality was only one of those issues. Elves didn’t like the race of Men. They were held in higher esteem than dwarves and orcs, but that was quite possibly the best thing that could be said about it. No, Kate was just an oddity to him.

‘She is remarkable,’ the elf commented. ‘A mystery. I have not seen the likes of her in my life, Frerin, son of Frár.’

‘You wouldn’t have,’ Thorin agreed. And for far more reasons than this nosy elf could ever know. It was a good thing he was unaware of Kate’s otherworldly origins or he would be ogling her far more than he already was.

‘What woman would choose to marry a dwarf of her own volition?’ Elvaethor wondered.

‘This one,’ Thorin countered. Something about the elf’s manners made him uneasy. He felt like he was missing the point, like he was interrogated in some way. And maybe he was. He had just not thought he would be questioned about his assumed marriage. Their purpose in Mirkwood, aye, but not this.

The elf let out a bark of laughter, although how he managed to make it sound like song was beyond Thorin. It was something elves apparently did. It did not mean he had to be comfortable with it. ‘Your wife said the same thing,’ he explained. ‘It is a rare occurrence to see two souls so close.’

It suddenly was no miracle anymore to Thorin why Gandalf liked elves as well as he did. For as far he could see, they were equally cryptic. ‘If you cannot make sense, then do please leave us,’ he said as rudely as he could. ‘I have said all I have to say to you.’ And he had. He was confident that his point had been made. Elvaethor was to leave Kate and him alone and that was all he had to say. The less he had to deal with this one, the better it would be. He might even prefer Galas over this elf. At least Thranduil’s nephew was easy to read in comparison with this warrior.

Elvaethor however was not impressed. And maybe he had no reason to be. Thorin was only a captive now. His commands meant nothing here. ‘How much do you know about the swords you carried, Frerin, son of Frár?’ The tone was conversational, almost as if they were discussing the weather conditions.

But Thorin was instantly wary. He knew the blades were elvish in origin, although he could never be bothered to learn their histories, since the elves clearly did not bother with his. But he expected that Elvaethor knew both Orcrist and Excalibur. And if that was the case, then he might soon find himself accused of theft. That would make matters worse. ‘Very little,’ he replied curtly. ‘They were found in a troll hoard by my company some months ago, so whatever it is that you are accusing me of, _elf_ , it is not true.’

‘I was not accusing you of theft, Frerin, son of Frár.’ Thorin was starting to find the repetitive use of his entire – if false – name annoying. He was starting to regret choosing the name already. Being addressed by the name of his younger brother was difficult, especially since Frerin was gone. And Frár had been one of his father’s guards, someone the brothers had been particularly close to since early childhood. The dwarf had sometimes been more of a father to both of them than Thráin. He had perished the day Smaug came, but Thorin always kept fond memories of him and so it had come without effort to give his name as the one of his father. Frár would have approved of it, he knew. He might even have been proud.

‘Then what?’ he demanded sharply. ‘You have taken our weapons from us. Unless you plan to give them back to us, I fail to see the relevance of your question.’ If Kate had been awake she might have snapped at the elf to stop beating around the bush and Thorin found himself wanting to use those words as well, but it would be best to avoid any strange expression for now. They were already getting more than enough attention.

‘I was just inquiring how much you know about the blades’ histories,’ Elvaethor assured him.

Thorin didn’t buy it. Nevertheless he answered the question. ‘Nothing.’ It was a lie, but his visit to Rivendell and the presence of Gandalf were best edited out for the moment.

‘It’s fascinating history,’ Elvaethor said, leaning back. ‘They were forged by the elves of Gondolin, long ago, and given to Ecthelion by King Turgon. The sword you wielded, Orcrist, was the most important blade of course, but your wife’s blade was the reserve.’ Thorin wondered how Kate would react to the fact that Excalibur had only been a spare blade and made an educated guess that she would not like it.

He still was not entirely sure what it even was that Elvaethor was saying. ‘Your point?’ Kate might have been saying the exact same thing had she been awake.

‘The blades that were once carried by a single soul are now carried by two,’ was the reply, although in Thorin’s opinion it didn’t count as one. And what was this with elves that no matter what they said they always tried to make it sound like poetry? Would it be too much to ask to use normal words?

‘Your souls must be very close,’ the elf observed with that serene elvish smile that drove Thorin up the walls at the best of times. And this time the words strengthened the urge to do some serious damage to that smile and the face that bore it. He had to hold back, though, because Elvaethor’s assumption fit in perfectly with the story they had made up. It didn’t mean he had to like it. As it was, he had his fair share of gossip from his own company.

‘If you are quite done stating the obvious…’ In cases like this Kate’s approach was worth a lot. Thorin had seen her in moods like these often enough to have very little trouble copying it for his own use. And his anger was a great asset in getting the exact right tone of voice.

‘Your wife is a remarkable woman, Frerin, son of Frár,’ Elvaethor said. ‘And fiercely loyal, especially when one considers she is of the race of Men…’ Thorin clenched his hands into fists and tried to remind himself that punching the elf would do him no favours. ‘I have seen the bruises on her arm and yet she defends your every action.’

That was too much. ‘Are you accusing me of hurting my wife on purpose?’ It came out as a snarl. What was this pointy-eared idiot thinking? What right did he think he had to meddle in people’s personal lives? ‘Do you truly think she would be loyal to me if that was the case?’

The elf shook his head. ‘I do not know what strange hold you have over her, dwarf.’ He got to his feet so that he could look down on Thorin, something he disliked for various reasons. ‘You hurt her, yet she cannot bear to hear ill spoken of you.’

‘I do not think my personal life is any of your business,’ Thorin told him dismissively, copying Kate’s most disapproving tone of voice. She was still asleep, so she could not hear him do it anyway. It did not matter. ‘And I think it is time you took your leave of us.’

The thing was that he had made bruises on Kate’s arms, bruises that had not fully healed yet. They just had not been made on purpose. It had been accidents and if Elvaethor had confronted Kate about them, as Thorin suspected he had, then she might have said the same thing. But the accusation made him snappy. Elvaethor did not understand anything. And how could he really? He had not been with them on the journey, so he did not understand the dynamics. Mahal, not even their own companions understood their dynamics. Thorin would find it difficult to explain them even to himself, so how could anyone else possibly see how things truly were between them?

‘It is strange,’ Elvaethor pondered. It was almost as if he was thinking out loud. ‘And contradictory as well. You hurt her, yet she stays. Why?’

Thorin sent him as icy a stare as he could muster. ‘Have you asked her?’ he demanded. ‘She might know the answer to your question.’ Kate might hate him for that later when Elvaethor did ask her, but it would make him back off for now.

‘I might,’ the elf said. ‘It is most… interesting.’ He walked away before Thorin got the chance to formulate a coherent reply.

What was this all about? That was the most urgent question at the moment. What did the elf want with them? When they were captured, Thorin had feared that his biggest problem would be facing Thranduil and explaining why they were in Mirkwood in the first place. They had decided on Kate posing as his wife to keep her with the group, to prevent the elves from trying to play what she would call knights in shining armour. It was supposed to be a minor detail and had truly not played a big part in their strategy talks. Their focus had been on preventing a run-in with the elves in the first place and several scenarios what to do if the worst should happen and they did get caught. This however had not been a part of their worst case scenarios.

And Thorin did not like it. The elves themselves were unnerving, but Elvaethor was downright creepy. He certainly was more interested in their relationship than he had any right to be and Thorin could not for the life of him figure out why. What was this to him? Did they think it was a weakness in the company, a way to cause strife within the group in order to try and make it fall apart, so that at some point one of them would break and tell them everything the elves wanted to know? The dwarf would not put it past them.

‘Is he gone?’

Thorin was startled by the advisor’s voice. He looked down and saw her smirking up at him. ‘You were awake?’

She sat up, wincing when that appeared to be unpleasant for her arm. ‘Most of the time,’ she admitted. ‘You know, you should really stop stealing my words. And tone of voice.’ She grinned. ‘It’s weird. I copied your manners yesterday and you copy mine now. We definitely spend too much time around one another.’

‘Why did you pretend to sleep?’ Thorin wondered.

Kate rolled her eyes at him. ‘You can’t be serious. You really think I was going to alert him to the fact that I was awake only to have the whole scene from yesterday all over again? I think I was on the receiving end of the exact same interrogation when he was seeing to my shoulder.’ She shuddered. ‘It’s almost…’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘It’s almost as if he is a collector of oddities and I would be the crowning jewel, the rarest specimen he’s ever seen. I would be the collector’s item: the woman who clearly lost her mind and married a dwarf. Oh, ladies and gentlemen, come and see for yourselves.’

Thorin tried and failed to bite back the chuckle. It was inappropriate. They were still the elves’ captives, but here they were, joking as if this was just another normal day on the road. It was her way of coping, but sometime during the journey it had become his as well. He had spent too much time in her company. In this case it was not a bad thing. They needed to appear close in order to pull this off.

The act made Thorin realise that it was not too much of an act. In fact, it was very close to how they interacted with one another on a daily basis. It was what they did. The only thing they had to add to it was the signs of affection, the occasional holding of hands, him tucking away a lock of hair behind her ear, addressing her as his wife. At some point it was difficult to tell where the act ended and reality began. Maybe that was the danger of choosing an act that was so closely related to what was normal for both of them, yet at the same time was entirely different.

‘Stop laughing at me,’ she chastised him, playfully whacking him over the head with her uninjured arm. ‘He scares the crap out of me, to be honest.’ She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the elf’s retreating back. ‘What the hell is his game anyway? What is he trying to achieve?’

Thorin frowned at the elf too. ‘I think he might be trying to turn us against one another,’ he said. It was the only sane explanation he could think of and the elves were clever enough to play that game and it was not much of a surprise that they sank so low to get what they wanted.

‘Then he’s barking up the wrong tree,’ Kate growled. ‘Bloody elves. The more I see of them, the more I’m convinced you were right about them.’

Thorin didn’t quite know what to do with those words. Kate’s answer that Elvaethor’s chances of turning them against each other were non-existent had been immediate. She had not even taken the time to think about it. Well, they were friends, after all. Maybe he should have expected it. Of course she would not allow the quest to be endangered in such a manner, not when its success would be her way of getting home. It was just the determination with which these words had been spoken that took him by surprise. When had she started to feel so passionate about this?

‘You are simply in the wrong company,’ he told her. ‘Had you been with others of your kind, they might have liked you better.’ He gave her a wry look. ‘There is so much hostility between our people, Catherine. You cannot even begin to understand.’ And she had ended up in the very middle of it. She was from another world and this feud, this hostility dated from even long before Thorin was born. It was not fair on her that she had become mixed up in it. But Thorin doubted she would have understood the matter better if she truly had been born in Bree. The race of Men seldom was aware of the troubles of the other races. And she was so young still. How could she see how deep this went?

‘Well, I’m starting to,’ Kate said. ‘And tell you what, I’m glad to be on this side.’

This had him looking at her in disbelief. ‘You would rather be a captive?’

Kate snorted. ‘Don’t be daft,’ she told him. ‘But that’s loyalty for you, isn’t it? Besides, I’d rather be with our lot than with that bunch of hypocrites.’

He didn’t know why, but it brought a small smile to his face.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Elves: immortal sentient beings with pointy ears, unearthly beauty, as hypocrite as your average politician and with egos the size of the Big Ben per elf. And they are to judge what should happen to us? Good grief, we’re screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we really will meet Thranduil. I needed to get this out of the way first. Anyway, I hoped you all liked this chapter. Please review?


	46. Clash of Kings

_The march to Thranduil’s palace was long, tedious and scary at the same time. The long is quite easily explained, I think. We had to cross a large part of Mirkwood to get from the Men-i-Naugrim to the elven settlement on the borders of Mirkwood. There was not a very clear road. It were paths weaving through the forest, sometimes hardly wide enough to let one person pass. It was hard to see the path at all at times, especially in the blasted half-light Mirkwood was bathed in. The elves had no trouble with it at all. They kept up the pace, making us walk until we almost dropped from exhaustion. There was no consideration for our wounded, none at all. Dori had burns on his leg that visibly pained him. Bofur had gotten injured too, as had several others of our company, but those two were definitely the worst. My wounds had been seen to because I was not strictly speaking a dwarf and because I was a woman. That courtesy was not extended to the rest of the company._

_The tedious part I think is pretty self-explanatory as well. The elves didn’t talk to us, we were hardly allowed to talk to one another and there were a lot of trees around us. After a while all the trees start to look the same and it becomes almost impossible to tell how long you’ve been walking and how many days you’ve been in the dratted forest, because every day is the same. The only conversations we had were at night as we made camp. I was still literally tied to your father, a fact the elves seemed to think terribly amusing, so he was the only one I could really talk to. But we had to mind our words and keep up the act, because talking strategy with elves within hearing distance would be a very foolish thing to do indeed. Bloody elves with their sensitive ears. I swear they could hear it if a squirrel climbed a tree three miles away. And they were always quick enough to slap down any conversation that might discuss the topic of our escape._

_It was scary because we were still in Mirkwood, now having the honour of being my least favourite place in both my own world and Middle Earth, and because of the elves. Galas never passed up an opportunity to threaten or humiliate us and Elvaethor was his creepy self, always watching. It was the kind of stare you can feel, even when you can’t see it and it made me positively jumpy. Every night he would look at the wound and redress it, meanwhile trying to interrogate me about my relationship with Thorin, trying to urge me to leave him while I apparently had the chance. He was really trying to cause strife within the group, I realised. It set my teeth on edge and Thorin developed the habit to glare at the elf as if he would like to do nothing better than to bite his head clean off._

_Where Bilbo was we did not quite know at the time. He was possibly still wearing his Ring and trailing after us, but we never saw him, which under the given circumstances was definitely a good thing. I suspected he was there though when one of the elves reported to Galas that some of their supplies seemed to have gone missing all of a sudden._

_‘Burglar indeed,’ Thorin muttered when Galas was shouting so loud he would probably drown out any other noise and I smiled, or maybe smirked is the best word to describe it. Truth is that at the time we took great joy in everything that annoyed the elves. It was the only thing we could do to amuse ourselves while we were inconveniently tied up and fortunately Galas did not disappoint in that department. Unfortunately, those little moments never lasted long…_

 

Thorin was unable to say how many days had passed since they had been taken captive. He guessed it would be around a week ago, give or take a day or two. The forest seemed to go on forever and Thorin once again realised that the burned part of it was in every way an improvement of what it had been. He found himself wishing for sunlight, moonlight, starlight, _any_ light that wasn’t this constant twilight. He had never been claustrophobic, but this forest was doing its best to make him so. The Old Forest Road had been doable. It was relatively wide and it had the added bonus that they had not been the captives of elves when they had travelled on it. The paths they were taking now were sometimes barely visible. The farther north they came, the more eyes he started to see at night, always outside of the camp, but they were there. It was yet another thing Kate’s book had been right about.

They should be getting close now. Thranduil’s palace could not be far away anymore, not if the map he had in his head was correct.

The road had been steadily rising for the last half day and there was a notion in his head that Thranduil had chosen a set of caves for his palace. Caves were mostly only there when there were mountains as well and since the road was rising, he suspected they were getting close. But he had never been there himself. Thrór had not been particularly fond of the elves, and the same of course could be said for every dwarf living in Erebor at the time, and he had rather that the elves came to them than the other way around. And if it had been within his power, Thorin would never come within fifty miles of this place either, but he did have very little choice in the matter now.

Another thing that gave away how close they were to the elven settlement was the elves’ behaviour. They had been grim and taciturn throughout the march, keeping conversation to a bare minimum. Now however they were talking and happy. Mahal help him, they were even starting to sing. They must be close if they were acting in such a manner.

The forest was a little less stifling here as well. The presence of living beings must have kept the sickness of the wood at bay some. The trees were less looming, less dark and there was a little more light here. Thorin supposed he could thank the elves for keeping the darkness away somewhat, but since he was still tied up, he found himself not very inclined to do so. These were his captors and certainly not his friends.

He was still tied to the advisor with that elven rope. Kate still had her left arm in a sling, but whatever it was that the elves had given her, it sped up the healing process considerably. She was not in pain all the time anymore and Thorin was grateful for it, as was Dori. The advisor’s brother had even gone as far as to thank the elves for aiding his sister, which was just a bridge too far in Thorin’s opinion. Thanking elves? Over his dead body.

‘We’re near, aren’t we?’ Kate asked softly. The path was a little broader here and they could walk next to one another.

Thorin nodded. ‘I suspect so.’ His hands were bound in front of his body again, the ropes a little tighter than necessary just for the purpose of causing him discomfort, because he could just present some danger to their captors if he was allowed to have free use of his hands. He knew himself well enough to know that he would make use of them if only given as much as half a chance.

‘Charming,’ Kate commented dryly.

But when the palace came into view, it was still a surprise. Suddenly the trees were behind them and they were looking out over a river and behind that was what Kate sarcastically called the lion’s den. And it felt like that to Thorin. It may be beautiful, but it would be a maze on the inside, very easy to get lost in, even if they did somehow manage to escape the dungeons Thranduil would surely house them in.

Next to him, Kate shuddered. ‘I don’t like this,’ she muttered.

Well, that made two of them, because this put Thorin’s teeth on edge as well, but there was no choice. They were captives. They did not have a say in their own fate anymore, something that vexed him more than he was ready to admit to anyone, not even to himself. No matter how dark the situation had been, no matter how bad things had looked, he had always had a choice. He had always been the master of his own fate. He wasn’t so now. The rope around his wrist was a painful reminder of that fact.

‘Beautiful, is it not?’ Elvaethor had sneaked up on them.

‘Can you please stop doing that?’ Kate said irritably. ‘You may not have realised it, but you scare the crap out of me.’ She sent the elf a glare. ‘And you annoy the crap out of me as well, so please do me a favour and get lost.’

It may not be the wisest thing to say, but Thorin understood why she acted in such a fashion. Elvaethor had been busy trying to stoke the flames of discord within the group, something he had been unsuccessful in. For all his dislike of dwarves, he seemed to know very little about them. He did not understand that they were fiercely loyal and very close to one another. No one, and especially no elf, would be able to get between them. It was how Mahal had made his children and Thorin was grateful for it.

‘I thought a daughter of Men would be able to appreciate such a thing of beauty, even if your husband cannot,’ Elvaethor said serenely.

‘Appreciate a prison?’ Kate scowled. ‘You must be insane.’ She took Thorin’s arm with her right hand to demonstrate the point that she was not going to play that game.

‘That’s elves for you, lass,’ Dwalin commented. He was standing close by. Thorin’s friend had not spoken much since they had been taken, but he never wasted an opportunity to get back at the elves either. In a way, that had made him more tolerant towards Kate and Kate more tolerant towards him. Maybe something good did come from their captivity after all.

That of course had been the wrong thing to say. Galas snapped some command in his own tongue and the elves forced them into walking again, ever closer towards that dreaded palace. Everything in Thorin told him to run, as fast as he could, but he could not and so there was no choice but to follow.

He could only hope that the burglar was following them. He had been doing so far, or that was at least what he expected. They had never once seen the burglar, but it had happened quite a few times that some of the elves’ food had mysteriously disappeared. It had annoyed Galas to absolutely no end and it had rather amused the company. It also made it clear to Thorin that perhaps the burglar was a better burglar than he had given him credit for. He remembered thinking that quite a lot of time during this quest already. If they ever managed to get out of this prison, he might even need to say it out loud.

The caves of the elves were vastly different from the halls of Erebor. Kate called it elegant, but Thorin just called it unnatural. There had been magic involved in making this palace in the caves. Thorin could feel it. It was in the walls he accidentally touched and it was in the very air he breathed. And it made his skin crawl. It may have its own beauty in a way, but it was not natural, not as it was meant to be. And even though it was vastly different from Rivendell, it more or less felt the same to him. Maybe it was because he was a dwarf and therefore far more sensitive to such things than the woman walking next to him.

Kate, in spite of herself, seemed to be in awe of the palace. She admired it. But then, she had admired Rivendell as well, even if she didn’t like its residents. That reassured him somewhat. Kate had spoken the truth when she said she would not side with the elves. He was only strengthened in that view when she sent a dirty look at one of the elves who was ushering her in the right direction.

‘Hands off!’ she snapped at him.

The elf looked down at her haughtily. ‘Your preference is for the dwarf,’ he said. ‘I had forgotten.’ Thorin was as likely to believe that as he was to believe that Smaug would just politely pick up his belongings and leave when they arrived at the Mountain. It was just one of those things they did to vex both Thorin and Kate. It was almost as if they were hoping the dwarf would try to attack them, so that they had a good reason for locking him up. But Thorin knew better than to rise to the challenge. He would however not forget. One day the elves would pay for this.

It was only that thought, and the knowledge that Kate could deal with taunts like this herself, that helped him in not trying something rash. He had better keep his mind on the confrontation that was doubtlessly coming. Thranduil had a long memory and he was not as stupid as his nephew. He would remember Thorin, of that the dwarf had absolutely no doubt. And he feared what that would mean for his company and for him. The book said they would be thrown into the dungeons until they were prepared to tell him what they were doing in Mirkwood.

But in the book it had seemed as if Thranduil had not known them at all and that made the book an unreliable source of information when it came to this. There was no telling what Thranduil would or wouldn’t do. And the elf king was not an idiot. As soon as he laid eyes on Thorin he would suspect what their destination was. Thorin of course planned to deny it, going with the story that they were going to the Iron Hills for some kind of trade agreement, but it was almost certain that Thranduil would not believe that story.

And he would never let them go to Erebor when he so feared the dragon that dwelled in it, not when there was the smallest chance of the dwarves not killing the beast, but just kicking him out, for fear he would then come to Mirkwood to burn and plunder. Every sane person of course knew how small the chances of that happening were. Either the dwarves would die or Smaug would die. They would not both live. No matter how much Thorin would like the thought of pointing Smaug in the direction of Mirkwood, that was one scenario that would never happen.

He tried to keep track of which way they were taking, even when he knew that he would never be able to get out the same way they got in. Kate’s book stated that there was some very powerful magic on that door that would prevent them from leaving. The barrels mentioned in the story might just prove to be their only way out. It wasn’t something Thorin looked particularly forward to, but if it was the only way, he would not hesitate to take it.

The elves only halted in front of a set of huge stone doors that Thorin suspected to be the entrance to Thranduil’s throne room. The time was here now and he took a deep breath. He didn’t feel like he was ready, but then, he doubted he would ever be ready for this. It just needed to be done and then it would be up to Mr Baggins to get them out, another prospect Thorin did not particularly like. He was used to be the one to organise things. That he would have to wait for a small halfling to do the work for him went against everything he had ever learned. He should, as Kate phrased it, fight his own battles.

‘Stay close to me,’ he told Kate. The words had left his mouth before he could even begin to check them and he could not for the life of him figure why he said them. If she wanted to be safe, the last thing she needed to do was being close to him. Yes, they had decided to pretend to be a married couple, but in front of Thranduil it would be best for her to keep her distance. So why did he say such a thing? It did not make any sense.

But if Kate thought the request strange, then she didn’t say anything. She just gave a pointed look at the rope between them. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she commented wryly. ‘Bloody elves.’

Doubtlessly the elves could hear that perfectly, but Kate was not the kind of person to care for their opinions, not when she was in a mood like this. Thorin recognised the signs by now. Her hands were trembling slightly, her breathing was a little more controlled and her face was pale. She was scared, he knew, so she chose to hide behind the best armour she had: sarcasm. It was a protection better than any real armour would be in this situation.

‘Move!’ Galas snapped at them.

The doors opened before them. Thranduil’s nephew was the first one to strut into the hall. There did not seem to be another word that described his way of moving any better. He walked tall, confident and all too pleased with himself. It was obvious that he thought he had done something remarkable. In all honesty it made the dwarf want to throw up.

The elves forced them into the hall. Thorin had meant to enter in a slightly dignified manner, but the elves were doing everything in their power to undermine him in that. One of them, a blonde one he had not heard the name of, deliberately tried to make him trip and fall. He failed, but it was the intention that counted and Thorin knew that full well.

The hostility between elves and dwarves ran very deep. That was common knowledge. It had to do with a war in the First Age, a war Thorin’s people had nothing to do with in the first place, but that was a fact Thranduil conveniently seemed to have forgotten all about. To him all dwarves were the same. To him they were all bad, all greedy, and all very eager to kill elves when they got as much as half a chance. Thorin would have to plead guilty on the last accusation at the moment, but it was not his default setting, as these pointy-eared tree lovers seemed to think.

There was some natural light in this cave, so it would be safe to say that this was still above the ground. It was the bright, unfiltered light of day, not the constant twilight that ruled the realm everywhere else. He would have been relieved had he seen this in any other place. As it was, it only made him feel very ill at ease.

Because at the far end of this hall was the throne and Thorin recognised the occupant of aforementioned throne without effort. It was the very same elf who had looked on and did nothing when Smaug had sacked the Mountain and killed so many of its people. Thranduil had not changed. He looked exactly the same as the last time Thorin had laid eyes on him. He radiated power with every fibre of his being. But there was ice as well and not just in his eyes. The presence was almost just as strong as the power and it made a shiver go down his spine. If he was looking for mercy, he had come to the wrong place. It would not be granted to him in this place.

Next to him stood his son, looking just as unforgiving as his royal father and with his hand just a tad bit too casually on a knife he had tucked into his belt. Thorin had seen Legolas before, when Thranduil had visited the Mountain, but as far as the dwarf could see he was not any less arrogant or haughty. But then, what had he expected? Arrogant was the elves’ default setting.

‘My lord,’ Galas said, sounding far too pleased with himself. He didn’t even halt before he addressed his uncle. ‘I found the culprits for the fire on the Men-i-Naugrim.’

Thranduil gave them a fleeting glance. ‘Dwarves,’ he said, managing to convey his opinion about the entire race with just that one word. ‘How… fitting.’

Thorin had to remind himself that reacting to this might just sign all of their death warrants. He had to watch his tongue here. But it was hard to be so looked down upon, both literally and figuratively. They were nothing to these elves, and they did their best to make them feel it. And Thorin’s people were a proud people, despite their exile. To be treated with such contempt was infuriating. There was only so much they could take.

It was Kate’s hand on his arm that brought him to his senses. ‘He wants you to react,’ she reminded him in a whisper. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction.’ It was the advice he had given to her in Goblin-town. They had been giving it to one another since on several occasions. And now he found he needed the reminder in order not to do something rash. He felt frightened, but that was a feeling he suppressed. Thranduil would want him to be intimidated and he was not playing that game.

So now he settled for a dignified silence, seeking out the elf’s eyes and meeting them as calmly as he could. If Thranduil wanted them to be scared, he would show that he was not. It might even be the best way to handle this.

A smile graced the elf king’s lip. ‘Not just any dwarf, I see,’ he commented.

Galas was quick to try and respond. He may be an idiot if Thorin had ever seen one and a violent man beyond the shadow of a doubt, but when it came to his uncle, he was like an eager puppy, begging for his master’s approval. ‘His name is…’ he began.

Thranduil did not give him the time to finish. ‘Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór of the line of Durin,’ he finished. ‘It would not be that hard to guess what would bring you to these parts.’ He rose from his throne. ‘There is only one reason why you are not on the other side, the _right_ side, of the Misty Mountains, King under the Mountain.’ The title was spoken in a mocking tone of voice, as if he wanted to emphasise the fact that Thorin was no longer king of any mountain whatsoever. He could have done without the rather painful reminder.

He contemplated telling the elf the lie he had decided on with Kate, but found that he could not tell it. Thranduil already knew why he was here. It was more than just an educated guess. He _knew_. And Thorin may already be humiliated far worse than he felt he was able to take, but he had some pride and dignity left. He would not be exposed as  more of a liar than he already was. They would end up in the dungeons for this either way, no matter what they did. He might as well do it with dignity.

‘Then I would ask of you not to hinder me and my company any further,’ he said. It didn’t take him much trouble to meet the elf’s eyes defiantly. ‘All we did was seek passage through your lands.’

Thranduil scoffed. ‘And risk that you reach the Lonely Mountain?’ he asked. ‘You know I cannot allow for that to happen. My people have lived in peace for many years. We would not see that peace destroyed.’

The anger was rising swiftly now. He remembered that this was exactly what the elf wanted him to do, but he could not truly bring himself to care. Thranduil was a coward, and he had broken every oath he had ever sworn when he abandoned Durin’s Folk and the people of Dale when the dragon invaded Erebor and turned Dale into ash. ‘You would not see the rightful king return to the Mountain.’ It was more than just an accusation; this was the stating of a fact. ‘Your oaths still demand of you to aid us in our quest.’ This was a very dangerous game he was playing. Thorin knew that. But he was a king and he had every right to ask this of the elves, even though he was bound. Thranduil was in the wrong here and he would well know it.

Thranduil appeared to remain unmoved, but his son was responding, if only by the tensing of his posture. He looked almost uneasy, as if he knew full well that Thorin was justified in talking the way he did. It would seem that the son at least was somewhat decent, even if the father was anything but. The dwarf only waited for him to act on the unease he displayed, but it was gone after only a moment and he remained silent, face neutral but alert again.

The elf king however had displayed no unease or signs of giving in whatsoever. ‘I owe you nothing,’ Thranduil said dismissively. ‘Not when you and yours,’ his eyes took in the sight of the company, ‘are responsible for burning my realm.’ There may be a smile on his face, but his eyes were ice-cold.

‘Oh, there we go again,’ a voice muttered. Thorin had almost forgotten about the advisor’s presence, which was strange, taken into account that she was still tied to him. ‘You know, we’re fine too, thank you very much for asking.’

It was just the kind of comment she would make in situations like these, but it was also the stupidest thing she could have done under the given circumstances. For now she had Thranduil’s undivided attention. His gaze went from Thorin to the human woman and his eyebrows rose in something that may or may not be surprise – it was always hard to tell with elves. ‘A woman,’ he remarked. ‘And what is she doing here?’

It was the moment of truth – or the moment of lies, depending on the perspective one chose. There was no going back on the agreed story now. ‘She’s my wife,’ he told the elf, praying that this would not be the biggest mistake he had made in a long time.

 

***

 

Kate felt as if the elf could see right through her when he directed his gaze at her. He radiated danger, something she found most unnerving. The look he favoured her with reminded her strongly of Elvaethor. He was looking at her as if she was some kind of collector’s item. She knew that this was what they had agreed upon. It might not be the ideal solution for the problem, but it was the best solution they had. It would not make sense for an unmarried woman to travel with a group of dwarves. It would be most inappropriate. Beorn had not seemed to care much, but he was a man who mostly just minded his own business, so she had not expected him to care. But the elves were nothing like Beorn. They were of a completely different race and, as Kate now discovered, different from her own in ways that had not been so obvious in the Rivendell elves.

The elves of Rivendell had been kind and also very different from the race of Men, but they had been good. The elves of Mirkwood may be good – after all they were not on Sauron’s side – but not in every way. They were cold, or at least the elves she had encountered so far were. And Thranduil was by far the worst of the lot.

Kate had not seen very much of him so far and the movie and book were not very much of a help either. All she really had were Thorin’s stories and those did not really make for an objective picture. But in the few short minutes she had been observing him she had learned more about him than Thorin’s tales could have done.

Proud, she thought, he was, in the extreme. It was evident from the way he looked, spoke and walked. Pleased with himself, she added to the list as he first glanced at the company, bordering on arrogant. She instantly deleted _bordering on_ when he first opened his mouth. The elf king was arrogant and there was no denying that little fact. Cold, too, merciless probably. There was no compassion and he was angry about them burning his forest, but his anger, so like Thorin’s in many ways, was freezing ice, not raging fire. Kate remembered thinking that the elves would not be pleased and now realised that this had been something of an understatement. Thranduil controlled his anger well, but it was there, only just underneath the surface. He was more than just displeased. And he was selfish too. He used a lot of fancy words to disguise the fact that he was scared as hell that Smaug would come to Mirkwood and burn it. Selfish and cowardly.

And cunning. Kate added that to the mental list when the elf king eyed her after Thorin had announced she was his wife. Thranduil was not an idiot. He may have many bad qualities and he may fail completely as a king, but he was intelligent, extremely so, and Kate felt as if he was looking right through her, which was not a pleasant feeling at all.

 _Get a grip, Andrews_ , she told herself sternly. _Pull yourself together. You have to pull off this act. So act the part. Pretend you’re royalty. Thranduil needs to believe you’re married to a king. Act like a queen._

Fortunately she had seen Thorin do his kingly act more than once, although admittedly mostly when he was pulling rank in an argument with her, which annoyed her to no end. But their many fights now made it easier to straighten up and meet the elf’s eyes calmly. She conveniently ignored the fact that she was still holding Thorin’s arm as if her very life depended on it. It was part of the act, she told herself. She was not doing this because she was scared. She wasn’t.

‘Your wife?’ Thranduil asked incredulously. ‘How… rare.’

‘I was not aware my choice of wife is any concern of yours,’ Thorin growled. Kate had the strong suspicion that if his hands had not been tied, he would have cheerfully done the elf some physical damage. Dori, behind her, could be heard to make similar noises and Dwalin looked like was standing on a hedgehog, ready to jump as soon as it appeared the elf would do harm to his king.

The king ignored Thorin. He didn’t even look at him. He still had not let his gaze wander away from Kate’s face. ‘It would be extremely rare for a dwarf to marry a daughter of the race of Men,’ he observed. ‘Unheard of. Especially for dwarf royalty.’ Something that might have been called a smirk – were it not that no elf could ever really smirk – graced his face. ‘Maybe your standards have become lower during your exile. Regrettable of course.’

The growling emerging from Dori’s throat, and possibly Nori’s as well, intensified. It must be that protective older brother instinct getting the upper hand again. And Thranduil was insulting her as well as Thorin. It was a clever thing to do, because it made all of them mad, but it was a very low thing to do as well and Kate found herself wishing to bash a certain elf’s head against a wall. She had not expected these Mirkwood elves to do a happy dance around the palace when they met, but she had expected them to be more polite, more noble than they were thus far. This, this was just rude, nothing else.

And it did make her angry, beyond the shadow of a doubt. ‘Then I wonder what can be said about your manners,’ she snapped.

Thranduil only seemed amused. Apparently his ego was so thick that neither righteous indignity nor insult could pierce through it. ‘What is your name, woman?’ he demanded.

‘Catherine, daughter of John,’ she replied. She had practised this lie so often in the last week that she could say it without blinking or thinking. And this, technically, was not a lie. Her full name was Catherine and her father’s name was John. Now for the hardest part. ‘I am from Bree.’ This was the actual lie, but it went off without a hitch.

‘Indeed?’ the elf king said. One corner of his mouth curled up. ‘I have never seen you there.’

For a moment Kate was in danger of freezing into place. Thranduil had been in Bree? She could not even begin to think what he wanted there, but if he had really been there, then her lie would soon be exposed as one, because of course she had not come from there. They had just chosen the place because she at least vaguely knew what it looked like, because it would fit in nicely with their agreed cover story and because elves never came there.

And then it hit her. Thranduil had never been there either. He was testing her. That sly bastard with his shady elvish games. ‘That is because you have never been there,’ she countered. ‘And Mahal be praised for that.’ It certainly could not hurt to throw in Mahal’s name. It would only enforce the idea that she was truly a part of this company of dwarves.

The subtlety wasn’t lost on the elf. The other corner of his mouth joined in the smile. ‘You are smarter than most of your race.’

‘I don’t believe you have met many of my race at all,’ Kate shot back.

This was something she was good at, sparring with words, but there had never been so much malice behind them. When she had argued with Thorin it had been in earnest and both had been angry, but she had never been in any danger. This, this was a far more dangerous game. If she made one mistake, just the one, he would see through her and she might be dead. The stakes were so much higher this time. And yet she found she relished the chance.

 _Get a grip, girl. Sort your priorities_. ‘Your remark proves that you are more ignorant than I would have believed possible.’ It wasn’t wise, but she didn’t seem to be able to check her words. This was the fear speaking, using hurtful words to keep his hurtful words at bay. ‘But then, I suppose that’s what happens when you lock yourself away in this magic-infested castle.’

Because she had felt it, the magic. There was something unnatural about this place. It had been in Rivendell too and it had felt like a beautiful thing, a friendly thing. The same was true for this palace. Maybe it was just because it was elvish magic that it felt good, because it clearly did not mirror the resident’s character.

Thranduil’s eyes flashed in what she thought might be anger, but she could not be certain. She might have been mistaken, because it was gone before she could get a decent look. The elf now turned to Thorin. ‘You burned the woods.’

Thorin looked singularly unimpressed. It was strange that he had never looked so kingly, so royal before, even though he was bound. Or maybe it was because he was bound. He was rising above this, giving off the message that in essence his captivity did not rob him of his title. Although with Thorin it was more than just a title. He was a king and he was going up against an equal, not against his jailer. They may be as different kings as kings could be, but kings they were.

It made her wonder about the differences. Thranduil was a real king, no one in his senses would try to deny that. He was powerful and strong, a leader, even if he spent most of his time warming the seat of his throne. A passive king he was, Kate decided. He sat on his backside and didn’t do very much. He didn’t like to get his hands dirty. Every story she had ever heard about him only strengthened that view.

Thorin was the exact opposite; the first to attack in battle, the last to retreat. Throughout the journey she had heard a great many stories about what he had done and sacrificed for his people. He had experienced his people’s sorrow and troubles as his own and now he was risking his life to take back his homeland for them. He may be annoying and infuriating, even now that they were friends, but the fact that he was so bloody noble made it rather difficult to remain angry with him indefinitely.

So here she was, firmly on his side. She had even sworn that she would make this quest her own. And she did not regret it, not even when she might get thrown into some kind of dungeon in the near future. For some reason it almost felt as if she belonged with these dwarves and that frightened her more than she was ready to admit to anyone.

‘The orcs burned your woods,’ Thorin replied. The words seemed to come from between clenched teeth.

‘There are no orcs in my realm,’ Thranduil said calmly. He clearly was taking this as some kind of pathetic excuse.

‘Not anymore,’ Kate said. ‘Azog the Defiler. Does that name ring any bells?’

The brief flash of alarm on the elf king’s face told her that it did.

‘He was in your woods.’ Thorin seemed to sense where she was going with this. That was yet another thing that was a clear sign that their friendship was growing. Lately they seemed to be getting better at reading the other’s mood and intentions. ‘Until a week ago we met him.’

‘There are no orcs in this realm.’ Thranduil was still in denial.

‘Like I said, not anymore,’ Kate said. ‘My husband put an end to Azog’s defiling days.’ _You might thank us for that by setting us free and letting us go on our merry way_. She didn’t say that, though. It would be much too obvious. And he would never let them go, because he knew where they were headed. And that was something he was clearly not prepared to risk. He did not want them going anywhere near the Mountain for fear Smaug would come bearing down on him to burn the rest of this blasted forest. By now Kate was quite ready to point Smaug in the right direction. Heaven knew Thranduil deserved the lesson. Let his people go into exile because of a fire drake and see how well they liked it. It might even have the added bonus that it would force Thranduil to finally grow up and grow himself a sense of realism, because that did seem in short supply with him. And in her opinion a burned Mirkwood was an improvement either way, because it could not be worse than it was now.

‘You have a bold tongue, Catherine, daughter of John,’ the elf remarked icily.

‘It is not my fault that you do not like the truth that I speak,’ she countered.

The elf king now turned to Thorin. ‘You should teach your wife some manners,’ he told him.

‘My wife speaks what she likes,’ Thorin replied calmly. ‘And we are of a mind in this.’

His words surprised her, but not too much. It was after all just a part of the act, something they had agreed on. But it was also something that had begun to happen for real with them. It had happened with their small war council. Balin and Dwalin had been looking at them incredulously, because they had agreed about something so quickly and without using too much words. It was understanding on a much deeper level. Kate could not even pinpoint when it had begun, but it worked, for both of them.

‘Are you accusing me of letting orcs wander into my kingdom?’ There was a threat in his voice and Kate inwardly cringed. This was escalating.

‘No, I am accusing you of not keeping a better watch on your roads.’ Thorin too seemed to be getting into the grip of the anger. He may be much smaller than the elf he was facing, but he had no less authority and Kate would bet that Thranduil could feel it. It was a very interesting thing to see, because it looked like neither of them would back down. That would be admitting defeat and no elf would let himself be beaten by a dwarf just as no dwarf with a shred of self-respect would bow to an elf. But she knew where this was headed, because Thranduil had the upper hand. He didn’t need them to bow to him, because he could simply order that they be thrown into the dungeons and be done with it. There was only one outcome possible, unless some miracle happened to whisk them away from here and the chances of that happening were non-existent.

‘Apparently I should have kept a closer eye on my border.’ The elf king’s tone of voice was suddenly rather pleasant again, a change Kate, and every other dwarf in the room with her, did not trust. The elf hated dwarves – and consequently her as well, since she in his eyes was one of them through her supposed marriage – so he would not be nice to them if he could help it. There was something coming and it would be safe to say that this something would be nasty. ‘Had I been playing closer attention I might have realised that you had come to my lands, Thorin… Oakenshield.’ For some reason he spoke the last word in that mocking tone of voice. Kate did not know why, but she doubted it meant well. ‘Out of curiosity, were you planning to fight a dragon with a wooden shield?’

 _Stay out of this_ , common sense advised her. Getting involved might make things only worse, for she doubted she would be able to check her words. She was just too angry with this elf and most of his subjects now to think reasonably. And to be quite honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be reasonable. A large part of her wanted to shout, to drown out the fear that was making itself at home in her heart. Because the truth was that she did not want to go to the dungeons. What if Bilbo hadn’t followed them in here? And even if he had come in with them, would he be able to free them and get them out of this place before the elves realised that something was amiss? She had learned long ago not to trust the book unconditionally. It was too unpredictable and the same could apparently be said about the elves. And events in real life were already vastly different from the events as they were described in the book. The outcome therefore should be slightly different as well. That would only be logical, she imagined, but it did make her afraid and it was terribly hard not to show that fear. She would not give the elves the satisfaction.

‘How I intend to reclaim my kingdom is not a concern of yours,’ Thorin replied curtly, which was the only right answer in Kate’s opinion. It was also the only answer they could reasonably give, because as far as she was aware no real plans had been made. The focus so far had been on getting to the Mountain first and that was proving to be enough trouble as it was, especially since Thranduil did not seem to plan on letting them go.

‘Ah, but that is where you are wrong, Thorin, son of Thráin,’ Thranduil said. ‘Because it is a concern of mine. I cannot risk that the dragon will come to my lands. I have to think of my people.’

 _Which, presumably, was why you didn’t lift a finger on the day the Mountain fell_ , Kate thought. She was clever enough not to speak the words out loud this time.

‘Our plans are to _kill_ the dragon,’ Thorin countered icily. ‘And you are still bound by oath to aid my people in their need. I demand that you let us go and leave the worrying about how to slay a dragon to us.’

Kate wondered if he was even aware that he was copying her words and tone of voice. She didn’t think he was. He was focused on this word game with every fibre of his being and despite the hopelessness of it all, he was still trying to come out victorious. It was maybe a foolish thing to do, but Kate admired him for it. He was still fighting for his people, despite the fact that he was doomed to lose the fight before it had even properly begun. He inspired loyalty when he was not being a taciturn and grumpy bastard, she realised.

‘I cannot let you journey on,’ Thranduil said.

‘It is not within your right to hinder us,’ Thorin said in a low voice that spelled trouble for whoever it was directed against. ‘This is our quest and ours alone. I do not ask for aid, but I do demand free passage.’

‘You _demand_?’ This served to well and truly enrage the elf. ‘You are not in a position to demand.’

‘I am.’ From anyone else it would just sound like a childish contradiction, but not from Thorin. He was angry, feeling wronged and treated unjustly, but the words were calm and at the same time filled with an authority Kate herself had always great difficulty with to disobey. Here was a king demanding the loyalty and aid he was owed. She found she respected him for it. This, she realised, was the kind of man she could follow.

 _Oh, good grief, you’re turning into Balin now_ , her brain commented. But she meant it. Thorin was in the right and to follow him would be the right thing to do. Because he was a leader. And he was a friend as well and she stood by her friends.

Thranduil clearly did not seem to know what to do with this, probably because he knew that Thorin was justified in asking what he did. ‘I would have your word that you returned to the Ered Luin and never again came here,’ the elf said eventually.

He must know already that Thorin would rather die a painful and slow death before he swore to such a thing. They had come too close now. No elf would make him turn back from his chosen path at this point, especially not one who he had no respect for whatsoever. And maybe the elf had anticipated that and if that was the case, he was making use of it.

‘You will have no such promise from my lips,’ Thorin vowed. ‘I would rather die.’

 _Don’t give him any ideas_ , Kate thought, glancing around her nervously. She had no doubt that Galas for one would have no problems complying with such a thing. He had been sending murderous glances in Thorin’s direction every once in a while and Kate had seen his face when he realised that he had been taken for a fool and had then been made to look like one by believing Thorin’s false name. And he wasn’t the only dwarf-hating elf in the room, she was sure.

‘Then that is what you might do before you will be let out of the cells, even if it takes a hundred years,’ Thranduil said venomously. He looked at the guards that were stationed in the room. ‘Take them away.’

Kate felt a cold shiver go down her spine.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _God help us all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this. Thranduil is rather difficult to write.
> 
> On another note, you'll have to make do without the Wednesday chapter this week. I'm going on a five day trip to Berlin this week, so updating might be difficult then, but I'll be back by Sunday, so then I'll update again.
> 
> And for those of you who missed it, I posted a new one-shot in Duly Noted yesterday.
> 
> Next time: Thorin and Kate in the dungeon. Until then, please review?


	47. First Kiss

_Getting dragged away from the throne room was no fun, that I can promise you, dears. In fact it may have been one of the most terrifying things during the quest. Azog had scared me to near death and I can’t say that getting chased by wargs is any fun either, but I at least had some measure of control over what happened to me then. There was no control then. My left arm was still useless and I was still tied to Thorin, which lessened my opportunities to defend myself considerably._

_Fortunately, no matter how much trouble you lot are capable of getting yourselves into from time to time, none of you have ever gotten yourself locked into a cell in Thranduil’s dungeons – at least, not that I know of – and I am grateful for small mercies. But at least Jack has some prison experience – even if it is only for being a drunken lunatic on the streets of Dale – so you can relate to how humiliating it is to be dragged away and locked up. And we weren’t even drunk._

_It was humiliating. Dwarves are physically stronger than elves, but that did not count for very much, because there were still arrows pointed at our heads, just in case we were thinking about escaping, which of course we were. I may not be much of a fighter, have never been really, but I was not about to let a bunch of elves lock me away if I could fight against it._

_Fighting however would only succeed in either getting myself injured or killed and I had been injured enough for a lifetime, I’d say. So I let our captors do whatever they wanted, even if I really wanted to do nothing more than to struggle. But that was one of those moments when you realise that sometimes you have to choose your battles and it was not worth choosing one that I was already doomed to lose, no matter how infuriating that knowledge._

_Thranduil’s dungeons were situated under his palace, far underground. I had never been claustrophobic, but the deeper we came, the stronger the urge became to turn around and find some fresh air. Admittedly these caves were not as filthy – not at all actually – as the ones we’d seen in Goblin-town and they looked less threatening as well, but it’s rather hard to see the beauty of a place when you’re about to be imprisoned in it and you realise just how difficult it is going to be to escape from aforementioned place._

_They split up the company into small groups as we went along, making sure our job of escaping would be even more difficult than it would already have been, even if we had been kept together. I could only hope that the real Bilbo was as resourceful as the one in the book, because this truly would be a job for an expert burglar. An amateur didn’t even stand a chance of pulling this off. And it made me very worried, because while I knew what happened in the book, I had also come to learn that the story was no guarantee for real life. Real life just did what it wanted and it had no consideration for what the characters featuring in it wanted or needed. It had been a hard lesson to learn, and a painful one at times, but by the time we had met Thranduil I knew it well._

_And it wasn’t any help in trying to control the panic that was fighting to overwhelm me…_

 

The dungeon door being locked behind them did nothing whatsoever to calm Thorin’s already frayed nerves and apparently it did nothing to calm Kate’s either. The elves at least had the decency not to separate them, although Thorin suspected this was more for Kate’s sake than for his. They would probably have liked nothing better than to lock him up alone with no one to talk to, but since the elves thought Kate belonged with him, they had let her stay. They even seemed to think it amusing.

‘Bloody elves,’ Kate muttered under her breath. They had not removed the rope that tied them together and now that she had the chance, she tried to undo the knots in it. ‘What the hell did they think they were doing?’

Thorin sat down on the straw mattress. ‘They’re elves,’ he told her, an explanation in and out of itself. ‘That is what they do.’

And that was the case. They enmity between their two races dated back to the First Age. There had been better days, but things had always been tense between elves and dwarves. Thranduil did not make it any better and neither did his fear of Smaug. Thorin knew the elf king held his entire race responsible for crimes committed by another dwarf clan two ages ago. He seemed to think those things had happened because it was in the nature of dwarves to do such things and therefore the entire race was to blame and, apparently, punishable.

What could he possibly do to make that arrogant king see sense? The depressing answer to that question was that there was just nothing, nothing whatsoever, to change the current situation. Thranduil’s beliefs were too deep-rooted. And that was why they were here now, deep down in his dungeons. It had to be one of the lowest levels, Thorin guessed. They were far away from daylight. Even if they could miraculously break out of this cell, it would be a long way to the surface yet.

With something of a shock he realised he was close to giving up. He was trapped in a cell, powerless and tired beyond belief. The march to the palace had been tiring and he had not been able to sleep much at night for worrying about the confrontation with Thranduil and what would happen to them after. He didn’t think he could sleep anyway and whatever rest he had gotten in the past week or so had been short hours of sleep he had been able to snatch throughout the night, never longer than three hours in a night. He suspected it was often less.

And now here he was, physically and mentally drained after his confrontation with an enemy he almost feared more than the dragon. This enemy certainly had been on his mind a lot more than Smaug had been lately. And if they ever managed to get away from this dreadful place, Thorin was sure that it would be child’s play to kill that fire drake that had occupied his home for far longer than he had any right to. After the elves and Azog any ordeal would pale in comparison.

He leaned his head against the rock, taking some comfort in the familiarity of rock under and behind him. It was the natural result of being a dwarf, he imagined. It was better than the woods at any rate, more familiar, he supposed. Even though this was an elven dungeon, he was still underground and that was where his race belonged.

The occasional tugging on the rope around his waist indicated that Kate was still doing battle with the knots in it. Thorin looked up and saw that he was right. She had seated herself a little distance away from him and was now was busy trying to get the rope to do as she wanted, a deep frown etched into her forehead. There was not much light in this cell – just the little coming in from the torch that was burning in the corridor outside – and Kate still had her left arm in a sling. The wound had been healing faster than it should have because of those strange elvish medicines, but it was not completely healed yet. And now the sling was hindering her movements.

‘Leave it be, Catherine,’ he told her. What use would it be anyway? Glaring at the rope would not make it burn away, nor would the knots come undone any faster, if they would come undone at all, something Thorin rather doubted.

‘Shut up,’ Kate snapped. ‘It’s not that I dislike you or anything, but this is rather embarrassing when one of us need to relieve themselves. And I’m tired of that.’

That was something the dwarf could understand, very much so. It had been embarrassing enough during the journey. Thorin himself did not have too much trouble with that, but Kate valued her private space, he had come to learn, and she had not had very much of that lately. He understood that she needed to be alone a little, or as much as she could be when they were still so obviously trapped.

‘I see,’ he said.

Kate nodded. ‘Good.’ She looked down at the sling and then shed it. ‘Bloody thing,’ she muttered.

‘Elvaethor might protest,’ Thorin pointed out.

‘Elvaethor can put that sling where the sun doesn’t shine,’ the advisor countered. ‘I’m done wearing it. And do I actually look like I care what that idiot says? I have heard nothing but rubbish coming out of his mouth since we met him.’

Thorin could not suppress a smile as she attacked the rope with renewed determination. ‘You are right,’ he observed. The only sensible thing the elf had said had probably been closely linked to his medical advice. The rest was either unreliable or nonsense. He only had to remember the story he had told about their swords and everything that had followed from it. Rubbish seemed an apt description of Elvaethor’s words.

‘Again,’ Kate observed. She shook her head. ‘The way they’re all acting, it just makes my skin crawl. I didn’t think there would be very many differences between our races at first, because there does not seem to be too many differences between yours and mine, but the elves… They’re entirely alien.’

Thorin arched an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘You do not think there are many differences between our races?’ He didn’t think he’d ever heard something that ridiculous.

‘I didn’t say there were none,’ she reminded him. ‘It’s just that there are more similarities than differences. We’re both very down to earth, a part of this world, while the elves always give me the impression that they don’t really are of this earth. There’s something unearthly about them. I’m not saying that we are the same, just closer than we are with elves. And I bet we both hate this bloody piece of rope!’ She gave a fruitless and frustrated tug at it.

That was undeniable and Thorin found himself smiling in spite of himself. ‘It’s elvish rope, Catherine,’ he reminded her. ‘I do not think there is anything we can do to make it change its mind.’

He had hardly finished saying that when Kate interrupted him. ‘ _Yes_!’ she hissed triumphantly. ‘Got you.’

‘What…?’ Thorin asked, but then he saw. Somehow the knot seemed to have come loose while both of them had been talking and now the advisor was ridding herself of the thing that had kept them together for the last week. ‘You did it.’

‘Einstein, your observational skills are exceptional,’ she commented sarcastically. Thorin did not know who this Einstein was, but for some reason he doubted this had been a compliment. ‘One knot down, two to go.’

It took him a few seconds to realise that she meant to untie him as well. He had expected her to get herself untied and leave it at that. For some reason he had never thought that she would proceed to free him as well as herself, in the unlikely case that she managed to rid herself of her own bonds. ‘Why would you do that?’ he wondered.

He got an eye roll in response. ‘Did you think you would be able to undo the knots around your wrists all by yourself or were you planning to sit there with your hands tied until kingdom come?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘Don’t be stupid, will you? It doesn’t suit you, if I’m quite honest.’

Thorin frowned, even though the woman could not see it; her gaze was focused on the rope that tied his wrists together. She had not interpreted his words in the way he had expected her to. She had seemingly not even thought about him being surprised about her offering and, in hindsight, she might even be right to think like that. They were friends. She would offer to do such a thing for a friend. Thorin knew he would do it for her as well if their roles had been reversed.

He did not even know himself why he was so taken aback by her actions. Maybe it was because her friendship felt like such an unlikely thing to him, even after several weeks and several ordeals. They had been through hell and they had made it through alive and relatively well, closer friends than they had been before. It was a strange notion, but it left him with a warm feeling inside.

Kate’s fingers were cool against his skin as she tugged and struggled with the knots, the frown back on her forehead as she concentrated. ‘They do like to be thorough, don’t they?’ she commented. ‘Yes, I’ve got it.’

And he felt it. The moment she said it, the cord was looser and he could shed his bonds on the floor of the cell. It felt good to have his hands back to himself. It had been a most unpleasant feeling to have that last bit of freedom taken away from him and now he had it back, he felt a little more confident that they might just stand a chance to see this through after all. And that was a most welcome feeling indeed.

‘Thank you,’ he said with a curt nod.

‘You’re welcome,’ Kate replied, turning her attention to the rope around his waist.

‘I can do that,’ Thorin told her.

He was rewarded with a dismissive snort. ‘My fingers are slimmer,’ the advisor pointed out. ‘I’ll have a much easier job than you. Let me?’ There was some hesitance in her voice now, even if the dwarf did not know where that had come from so suddenly.

‘If you please,’ he said. She was right of course. His fingers were thicker than hers. They might not get grip on that slippery thing the elves used for rope. He just did not expect her to deal with that last obstacle as well, since it did not really tie him to anything or restricted his movements in any way.

‘It does come loose rather quickly,’ she observed. ‘Strange really. I have been pulling at it for days and it didn’t give any signs of giving way and now all it takes is a few gentle tugs for the knot to fall apart.’ She shook her head. ‘That has magic written all over it.’

Thorin would agree. She was right. This did sound like elvish magic. And in its own way it even made sense. There was no use for the rope to hold them any longer – they had nowhere to run to in this confined space – and therefore it allowed them to untie it. It was a rather unnerving thing.

And true to expectations this last knot took hardly two minutes work at all. ‘Done,’ the advisor declared. ‘I don’t know about you, but I do feel better now.’

He nodded again. He would not admit to that within hearing distance of anyone, but it was good to have some measure of liberty, even if it was only as far as to have use of his hands again. It was a good thing to feel, a ray of light in an otherwise very dark situation. ‘It is good,’ he admitted.

‘So,’ Kate said. ‘What now?’ She looked around her. ‘What are we going to do now?’ She sounded a bit forlorn, not as if she had given up all hope, but more like she didn’t know what to do next. And there was exhaustion present as well. Thorin had been close to her these last few nights – not that he had any choice in the matter – and he knew she had slept better than he had, but not much. Most nights she had been lying still, staring into the darkness, he presumed. To an unsuspecting onlooker she would look like she was sleeping, but Thorin had recognised the signs, the subtle difference in her breathing. And she was a restless sleeper too. She never lay that still when she was truly asleep.

‘Get some rest,’ Thorin decreed. Thranduil was not going to chop off their heads anytime soon. Thorin had not expected him to either. The elf king was many things, but he was not a violent man, so unlike his nephew. He would like to deal with this without any bloodshed. All he wanted was for Thorin to head back the way he came. And what need was there to kill them when it was so easy for him to keep them all locked in his dungeon? Mr Baggins had better be good at those burglar skills of his or they’d be here until the world ended and he didn’t find himself looking forward to such a thing.

Kate glanced around her, noticing that the only mattress and blanket were the ones they were currently seated on. ‘Well, you take the mattress,’ she said. ‘I’ve still got my cloak, so I should not get cold anytime soon.’

Was she serious? ‘Did you think the need to act ended the moment we were led from Thranduil’s throne room?’ he questioned. And that was leaving the fact that he would never make a woman sleep on the floor while he took the mattress out of his consideration. What was she thinking?

‘Didn’t it?’ Kate countered. ‘There isn’t a single elf anywhere near. We might as well make use of it while we can.’

How naïve she was and how Thorin envied her for that. If only things could be as simple as she believed them to be, how ideal his life would be. But things were seldom this simple. ‘What do you think an elven guard would think if he saw us lying so far apart?’ Had she truly not thought of this?

Naïve she may be, but she was no fool and her mind was sharp. ‘He’d find it suspicious,’ she nodded. ‘Might think this whole true love story we’ve been telling them is nothing more than a story after all. _Shit_!’

At least she had caught on. ‘We need to act the part,’ he told her, no more pleased with this development than she was. He was confused enough by where the two of them were standing without complicating things even more by letting her sleep so close by his side. Admittedly, they had done so more or less already after their capture – even if they had carefully kept some distance between them – but with so many people around it had not felt very intimate. There were no people around now. It was just the two of them and possibly the occasional guard. Thorin found that suddenly he was something that might be called nervous. ‘There’s only one mattress here. It would be suspicious not to share.’

He didn’t think he had said anything inappropriate, but Kate narrowed her eyes at him. ‘If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…’

Thorin was not the man to blush, but if he had been, he’d have done it then. She could not truly be thinking he would be taking advantage of her like that, could she? Mahal help him, but there were limits to his acting skills. ‘I am not,’ he told her sternly, cutting off that train of thought. He did _not_ want to go there.

Kate nodded. ‘Good. Because if you did, you’d be singing soprano within the hour.’

The joke did it for him. She had said the same thing in that cave in the Misty Mountains and the thought had been as amusing then as it was now. Nevertheless he found it difficult to believe that she had thought him capable of doing such a thing. ‘It disappoints me that you think that of me.’ He could hardly help his disapproving tone of voice. ‘But if we do not act the part, we’ll be as good as dead. These elves are waiting for an excuse to permanently get rid of us already and we’re supposed to have married for love, headstrong woman.’ That had been the story they had agreed on and now they needed to keep to it. It was bad enough to have been caught on one lie already. ‘Surely even you can tell what needs to be done?’ he asked of her. He would not call it pleading, but it might be close to it.

To his relief the advisor nodded. ‘Shove over then,’ she said. ‘And remember, the threat still holds.’

Thorin chuckled. It was one of those standard jokes between them and he had come to appreciate it. It was a way of coping, and not just for her anymore. Sometime during his journey he had adopted some of her manners and her humour as well. In return the icy behaviour he sometimes noticed with Kate when she was getting angry was something he recognised from himself. They were so different and yet so alike at the same time. For some reason it frightened him somewhat.

He did as Kate had asked and moved over a bit so that she could lie down as well. From one moment to the next the atmosphere in the cell had become rather awkward and Thorin almost found himself wishing for company, because then it would not be like this. Even Dori and his fussing would do now. He just did not want to be truly alone with Kate, not because he disliked her, but because he feared he may be starting to like her more than he should.

He shook his head to get rid of the thought. What was he even thinking? Was he, Thorin Oakenshield, descendent of Durin, really in danger of loving a human woman from another world, a woman who would return to that world first chance she got? It could not be. And he had more pressing matters on his mind than pondering their non-existent relationship. Kate would probably tell him to sort out his priorities and she’d be right too.

The advisor reluctantly took the spot Thorin had just vacated. ‘Well, good night then,’ she said. Thorin didn’t look at her, but she sounded resigned. Was sharing a mattress with him really so horrible that she felt this way? Thorin didn’t know why, but it made him sad that she would shy away even after everything they had been through. Or maybe she too had felt the awkwardness and was reacting to it by keeping away from Thorin, hoping to reduce it that way. The dwarf didn’t know, but he allowed himself to think that that was the reason why she acted as she did.

‘Good night, Catherine,’ he told her, using her full name just in case some elf was listening. He might as well teach himself to use it from now on to avoid slipping up.

The name both did and didn’t suit her. It didn’t suit the fiery woman with her temper and quick wit. It was not the name of the advisor he had become friends with, who he bantered with at the most inappropriate of times, who he had shouting matches with that would have been audible all over Eriador. Kate was a name that suited that woman. Catherine was another matter entirely. Catherine was the name of the woman who had organised the journey through Mirkwood at Beorn’s, who met hostile kings without any visible fear and who demanded answers out of Gandalf. Catherine was the authority figure, a queen in a way.

He dismissed that fanciful thought right away. He had been listening to the chatter of his men far too much if he now started to believe that he was attracted to Kate Andrews. Because he was not, not physically anyway. Her character may be another matter entirely, but it would be best not to dwell on that now either. He still had more important things to concern himself with.

Their current predicament was on the very top of that list. Kate was shivering, he realised, causing the mattress and the blanket to shake as well. Thorin looked at her. She was still trying to keep as much distance from him as she possibly could on the small mattress. The blanket was not very thick at all or very large for that matter and Thorin was sure her back was bared against the cold, because cold it was so far under the ground, cut off from any warmth the sun produced. And Kate must be cold. Her constant shivering was all the proof he needed.

And why was she acting in such a fashion? Was she trying to get ill? ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.

He could hardly see her face because it was so dark, but he’d bet all the gold in Erebor that she sent a mocking and irritated glare in his direction. ‘Back to the stupid questions again?’ she countered. ‘I am sleeping of course.’

Maybe she was trying to sleep, but she was not actually doing so. The reason for that was all too obvious. He reached out and found one of her hands. ‘You’re freezing.’ She was; her hands were like ice in his. It was hardly a mystery why she could not sleep.

‘Nonsense,’ Kate shot back. The statement was somewhat undermined by the violent shiver that made her entire body tremble.

Awkward or not, she would catch her death if she remained where she was. She needed to get warmed up. ‘You should move closer,’ he told her. Body heat would work. And it was not as if he had not done it before. Thorin remembered the cave in the Misty Mountains very well and that had been before they had even become friends.

‘I’m fine,’ came the stubborn reply.

Thorin groaned in frustration. Gandalf used to say that he was stubborn, but this woman seemed to have perfected the art. It would be useless to argue with her, he knew from that encounter in the Misty Mountains and so he wasted no more words on the subject. He reached for her and brusquely pulled her into his arms. He ignored her surprised yelp, muffled protests and the feeling of her cold body so close to his, simply wrapping his arms around her in a firm embrace that would surely get her warmed up in no time. He forced himself to ignore the increased awkwardness. This had nothing to do with their assumed relationship. This was about making sure the advisor did not get sick.

‘What are you _doing_?’ Kate protested, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, which was a doomed attempt anyway. And her words did not sound quite as threatening as they usually did, no doubt caused by the fact that she was now forced to mutter them against his chest. Thorin failed to hide a smirk. It was a good thing she currently was unable to see that.

‘If you don’t stop shivering, then neither of us will sleep tonight,’ he said bluntly. ‘Lie still, Catherine. I have no wish to fight you. Sleep. You will need your strength.’

‘Hm,’ came the muttered reply. Thorin could have sworn it had a bit of sarcasm in it too. ‘Now where did I hear that one before?’ But her body betrayed her. She was starting to relax and within five minutes Thorin heard her breathing slow. He found it wasn’t too difficult to drift off himself then.

 

***

 

When Kate woke she was far more comfortable and warm than her brain knew she should be. Last she checked she had been in a dungeon, feeling like she was freezing to death. But she was no longer freezing. There was a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her pressed against a warm chest that made sure she was warm and comfortable, or as comfortable as she could be on that thing that was supposed to pass as a mattress here. If anything, Thranduil’s hospitality was sorely lacking, not that she was surprised at that.

She wondered about him. It would seem that she had underestimated the hatred between elves and dwarves. She had been as arrogant as to think that reading books and watching movies had been sufficient to prepare her for the reality. After all that had already happened to her, she ought to have known that things simply did not work like that.

There had been hatred in Thranduil’s eyes. Only a fool would not see it. But it was mixed with loathing, a rather dangerous combination in Kate’s mind. He did not just hate dwarves with every fibre of his being, but he looked down on them as well. He believed he was of a superior race, that the rest of the world population was far beneath him. _Now where have we seen that before_ , she wondered sarcastically. Maybe Middle Earth was not as different from her own world after all, and maybe elves did have human characteristics sometimes. In this case it was not a very reassuring thought.

Kate could only hope that Bilbo would find a way to get them out of this blasted cell. He might have read the book by now, if he even had followed them into Thranduil’s palace and of that she could not be sure. He had followed them on the march north, that she knew. None of them had seen the hobbit, but the frequent cases of theft had been all the evidence the advisor needed. It had driven Galas up the wall, but not even his most skilled guards could stop the food from disappearing. The company had enjoyed it a lot. Entertainment had been in very short supply, so they took it where they could get it and knowing that their very own burglar outwitted their captors, who were supposed to have the sharpest senses in all of Middle Earth, was a cause for celebration.

In here it was of course difficult to determine whether Bilbo had entered this place as well. He was quick and quiet and as long as he wore that Ring, no one would be able to see him. While that was a good thing, it also caused her to worry. The elves already knew they had missed out on one of their companions. They would be searching for him and if they were in the possession of as much as half a brain, they would have realised this missing person had come north with them.

 _Stop it!_ Kate told herself firmly. _Worrying won’t change a bloody thing. Get a grip._

That was easier said than done, especially since there was not much else she could do. It wasn’t as if she could sit here and read a book. Eating, sleeping and talking would be the only ways to keep the worry and, strangely enough, the boredom at bay. Apparently worrying did not stop her from feeling bored to death as well. There was nothing she could do here and, if his breathing pattern was anything to go by, her cellmate was still sleeping.

She cracked open one eye and was proved right. Thorin was still asleep. Some of his hair was falling over his face, but he was unaware of it. The expression on his face was relaxed in sleep, but still troubled as well. It was a strange contradiction, but it was how he was, Kate supposed. The dwarf was a complicated person with many layers to his personality and she doubted she would ever fully understand him. Maybe she would if they were only locked in this blasted cell for long enough. The prospect was not very tempting.

She untangled herself from his embrace, a feat in and out of itself, since Thorin unconsciously held on tighter to her when she tried to get away from him. It took her five minutes and a lot of skill to do it without waking him up in the process. Even then he still gave a displeased groan when she left. Kate decided to blame his behaviour on his unconscious displeasure with the absence of a source of warmth. It had nothing to do with her as a person leaving.

But maybe it had. Kate could no longer be sure, not of this and not of her own feelings concerning the matter. The act of being a married couple had made a mess of her feelings, leaving her unsure of what it even was that she was feeling. It had been unclear even before that, but now they were walking a tightrope between friendship and something else entirely. It scared her. It didn’t exactly help that the act they were performing was so close to how they usually behaved, with just a few subtle differences to make it more believable. Somewhere down that road the lines between reality and act had become blurred and she found that sometimes she was unable to tell one from the other.

 _Okay, that’s it_ , she chastised herself. _This is not a fanfiction, Kate. In real life a human woman does not fall in love with a dwarf and the dwarf doesn’t fall in love with the woman. Get a grip. You’re reading far too much into this. It’s just an act you’re playing._

The advisor was not sure she liked the direction her thoughts were taking. It was as if her mind was already admitting that she was falling for her cellmate and that was something she was not going to do, not ever. Friendship was dangerous enough in terms of putting her heart at risk, falling in love was even more so. Nothing could ever come of it, so it was a thing best avoided. Kate had not even realised she was in danger. Her focus had been on getting the quest done and going home after. Forming a romantic attachment had been the farthest thing from her mind and it should remain that way. No, she did not have feelings for this dwarf. If she only told herself this enough, then she could will it to be true. It was the safest thing. What was happening to her now was merely the result of being scared, worried and having listened far too much to her companions’ gossip.

 _So, stop being such an idiot and do something useful_ , she urged herself.

And she did. She had not spent much time inspecting the cell she now found herself in. Yesterday she had been too preoccupied with removing the rope and after that she had been too tired to do anything else. Now it seemed like a stupid thing not to have done. Kate didn’t think the cell had a weakness – elves were rather thorough, she had come to learn – but they would never know for certain unless she checked for it. So she wrapped her cloak around herself to hold on to the warmth and keep the chill out and went to investigate.

She might as well saved herself the bother. The bars were strong, the walls were more so and there was not a single weak spot to be found in the entire cell. It made the advisor want to kick something or someone, preferably an elf, in frustration. This cell was rather spacious, that she would not deny, but nevertheless it induced some claustrophobia. It scared her to be trapped like this, down in the dark, with no daylight, only a torch in the corridor to see by. If that went out, they’d be alone in the dark and the thought frightened her.

‘What are you doing?’ It was Thorin’s still sleepy voice that put an end to the impending panic attack.

Kate turned around, forcing herself to conjure up something that might pass for a sarcastic smile with some imagination. ‘You seem to insist on asking the stupid questions,’ she shot back. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

Thorin worked himself into a sitting position, studying what she was doing. Kate almost started feeling uncomfortable. ‘I would not have asked had I known,’ the dwarf king shot back. Judging by the look in his eyes he truly had no idea what she was up to. And maybe that was not so strange as she had first thought it to be. After all, she was on her knees, feeling for any holes in the wall that could be of service to them. And he had just woken up. Maybe his brain was not fully back online again.

She got up and walked back to the mattress, seating herself on the edge of it in order not to sit on his legs or seat herself on the far too cold ground. ‘I was looking for weak spots,’ she admitted.

‘Did you find any?’ Thorin asked.

Kate shook her head. ‘There’s one little opening, the size of a mouse hole, I’d say. It leads into the cell next to ours, but it’s empty. We passed it when they brought us here and there was no one in there.’ The others had all been taken elsewhere and Kate could not for the life of her figure out where they had been taken. ‘It’s not much of a weak spot anyway,’ she admitted. ‘And that’s all there is. Bloody elves. Why do they have to be so ridiculously thorough about everything?’

‘To keep dangerous people like our company from breaking out,’ Thorin replied wryly.

‘Sadly they seem to be succeeding,’ Kate muttered. This whole situation was doing strange things to her moods. She felt frustrated beyond measure, up to a point where she wanted to hit the wall to get some of her anger off her chest. There was fear as well, mixed up with panic, because she was afraid she would be stuck here forever, never to see daylight again. _Then that is what you might do before you will be let out of the cells, even if it takes a hundred years_. That was what Thranduil had said. And hundred years probably meant nothing to an elf, but it meant the rest of her life to her. If Bilbo did not come, she might die in here. The prospect was scaring.

So of course the book stated that they would leave this place in barrels within the next two weeks. Not the most comfortable way of travelling, but preferable over staying in this dark place for the rest of her days. But there was no telling if that even was what would happen in real life, since there was such a gap between book and reality. She could simply not fully rely on her knowledge. Maybe this was what was meant to be, but Kate knew better than to think that was what would come to pass in real life as well. As she had just established, this was no fanfiction after all. In real life, things didn’t always work out and if they did, not always for the better.

‘Mr Baggins will come,’ Thorin said. It was almost as if he was trying to reassure her, something he wasn’t known to do very often. It was not in his nature. He was more the bossing people about type and if he tried to reassure people at all, he often failed at it because he sounded so brusque and blunt.

But she appreciated the effort he made. ‘I thought it was my job to reassure you,’ she joked feebly. ‘Not the other way around.’

‘It was necessary,’ Thorin told her. The tone of voice was still brusque, but Kate had grown used to that by now. There was no doubt about whether he really meant what he said. In his own way he was even being kind to her and Thorin Oakenshield wasn’t generally known for his kindness.

‘Thanks,’ she said, meaning it. It did mean a lot that he tried. ‘It’s just that I am not very sure if Bilbo will come at all. He hasn’t read the book.’ He could have, but there was just no way of knowing and to be honest, Kate thought that he would have other and better things to concern himself with than the contents of her rucksack. ‘I don’t know if he will come up with the barrel plan all on his own, if I’m really honest.’

Thorin sent her a quizzical look. ‘You always were the one with the most faith in our burglar,’ he observed.

Kate snorted. ‘Was I?’ she wondered. ‘I think that perhaps you’re getting me mixed up with Gandalf now.’

This time it was Thorin’s turn to snort. ‘I do not think I could ever mistake you for the wizard, Catherine,’ he remarked. ‘The hair colour would be a good thing to tell you apart, as would the fact that he is male and you are not.’

‘As you never ever failed to remind me from the moment I joined your company,’ Kate shot back. She had no idea how they had come from the depressing subjects to the playful banter, but she liked it. Heaven knew that she needed to distract herself, escapism though it may be, and the way things were now they would be stuck in this cell for a while. Bantering was a good way to keep both their spirits up. With the dark all around them the dark thoughts were all too near for Kate’s liking. She wondered how the rest of the company fared. Had they been kept more or less together or were they all on their own? She hoped and prayed for the first option.

Thorin chuckled that low chuckle of his. ‘I never thought you’d stay this long, Kate.’

‘Neither did I,’ Kate countered. And she had not thought she would remain this long. But now that she was here, there was no real regret about it either. In fact, she had come to enjoy the company more than she probably should. It was still a major concern of hers, although less pressing now that they were trapped in this cursed dungeon of Thranduil’s. ‘It’s not a regret of mine, though,’ she told him. They were friends now. She might as well tell him the truth. And it was not as if she was confessing a crime. ‘I just would have liked it better if we could have skipped this visit.’ She sighed. ‘Next time I think I have a brilliant idea, stop me.’

Thorin only frowned at her. ‘Why?’

‘You’re not stupid, are you?’ Kate inquired. ‘The fire? That was a mistake.’ And it had been. Apart from the danger she had put everyone in, it also had alerted every sentient being in Mirkwood to their presence. They might have survived the fight and passed through the forest unnoticed had she not made Bilbo light that fire. The inferno must have been visible from miles away. It was hardly a mystery why the elves had come to take a look. Had she been in their place she would have done the same.

Thorin positively glared at her, so Kate averted her eyes in order not to see it. ‘Look at me.’ This was a command, one that was almost impossible to ignore. But Kate had trained herself to ignore Thorin’s moods and commands quite well, so she kept her eyes firmly on her boots. ‘Catherine, look at me.’

‘Want to tell me how this was not my fault?’ she inquired sarcastically. ‘Save your breath, Thorin.’ She wasn’t exactly eager to take the blame for their current predicament, but it would be fair, she supposed. She was a member of the company and she had led them into danger. First she had been as stupid as to advise Thorin to take the Men-i-Naugrim – and only see where that had gotten them – and then she had made the fire that had not only endangered all of them, but had also drawn a lot of unwanted attention. Their only luck was perhaps that it had been the elves who had found them and not the servants of the current resident of Dol Guldur.

‘You blame yourself for the fact that the elves found us?’ Thorin sounded almost incredulous.

‘From your tone of voice I’d say that you don’t,’ Kate remarked sourly. ‘You know, what does it even matter? We’re here now anyway. Sometimes I even wonder if we can avoid the book from going exactly as it is written for an extended period of time.’ She got to her feet, too restless to sit down. The cell was not exactly the right place to pace, but she found she didn’t have too much trouble with it. ‘Just look at the bloody mess we’re in. I don’t know what Gandalf was even thinking!’

She only realised that this was hardly the right thing to say to someone whose very survival depended on her being able to change the story as it was written down in the book. If they could not change that ending, then he would die, as would Fíli and Kíli and that was something that was just too horrible to imagine.

‘Good grief,’ she whispered. ‘Thorin, I am sorry. That was tactless, it really was.’ She sat down again, so that they were at eyelevel, folding her legs under her. What on earth was wrong with her that she kept making these stupid remarks without even thinking? She might have thought that she had spent too much time in Dwalin’s company, so that now she had adopted his brutal honesty without even noticing that she had done it. ‘I mean, we can obviously change something. We already did so by taking the Men-i-Naugrim instead of the elven path and really all we need is to cheat the book long enough to reclaim the Mountain and sent any unwanted visitors packing.’

It had to be the understatement of the century, but right now she may want to belittle the trials that may not even come to pass. It was hardly news that Thorin felt strongly about this and he had good reasons to do so. His life depended on it. Kate well recalled how he had looked when he had first read the book. This expression was not quite like it, but it was close enough. _Congratulations, Andrews, you did it again._

‘I mean it,’ she went on. If only he’d say something, but that did not seem to be his way. Thorin reacted with dignified but freezing silence to things he did not like. ‘I don’t think we’re really doomed to live the book no matter what we ourselves want. If that was the case, then why would Gandalf have dragged me here in the first place? It would…’

She was stopped from finishing that sentence. By Thorin’s lips on hers. And the world stopped turning.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What the hell is happening?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I’m back again. Berlin was amazing, but it’s also good to be home again. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be up Thursday instead of Wednesday, because I’ll be out of town then the entire day.  
> In the meantime, reviews would be lovely. Anyone dare venture a guess as to what is going on?


	48. Consequences

_The king and queen of romance we were. Or rather, we were not. In fact, we were anything but. I don’t think we have ever been. What your father and I had and, thank Mahal, still have is something that is not easily described or defined. I’m actually convinced that many people would not even call it a proper romance and I wonder if I could truly fault them for that. I don’t think I would call it a “proper” romance either, whatever it is that is meant by that anyway._

_No, we were not the kind of people to show a lot of affection in public. I don’t think royalty is even allowed that privilege, but fortunately for us neither of us really wanted that. The only time we were so obvious about it was when we were in Mirkwood and I hardly think that counts, since both of us were still more or less convinced it was only an act! Unbelievable how blind we have both been._

_Thorin and I are mostly just a good team. We work well together and I like to think that’s at least part of the reason why things work so well in Erebor. It’s something that goes without saying, sometimes even without thinking. It just works. Signs of affection are mostly for behind closed doors and away from the eyes of our lovely kids, who seem to think that their father kissing their mother is a reason to break into a run, right, Duria?_

_We are a strange couple, come to think of it. We say ‘You’re an idiot’ when we mean ‘I love you,’ we argue until we’re both out of breath and kiss the next second and we insult one another at the most inappropriate of times, yet there is never any malice behind it. I just do not think that we are the kind of people to be all lovey-dovey around one another. It is not in our nature. Neither of us are comfortable with it._

_I know other people sometimes think us strange and I know you must have heard these talks as well. But those people would have talked anyway. Like Thranduil told us on the day I first met that arrogant excuse for a king, a human woman marrying a dwarf king was unheard of, so our marriage was going to make people talk anyway. Our strange way of behaving around one another was hardly going to add to it, although it is annoying from time to time._

_So, maybe you should not be too surprised that our first kiss was not romantic in any way…_

 

Thorin found himself almost frozen into place the moment Kate confessed that she had no idea if she would be capable to change anything that was written in the book they had both read from beginning to end. He knew she had entertained doubts like that before, but he thought they had been laid to rest when they had decided to break away from the book by taking the Men-i-Naugrim instead of the elven path Gandalf would have them take.

And it had seemed to be working. There had been wargs and orcs, yes. Even Azog had shown up. Thorin would be the last to say that their plans had been good, but it was different than the book had claimed events would go. He was well aware that Bifur had not died in the book, but it was a loss he could accept, if not lightly. But Bifur had died in battle, fighting. It was the kind of death he would have wanted for himself and the risk was one he had well known. No one went on a quest such as his without being fully aware of what the cost for such a decision might be. They had all known and they had all come nonetheless.

And they _had_ defeated the orcs. By all accounts it was a massive victory. There was only one death on their side and the enemy had been wiped off the face of the earth. It was more than anyone could have asked for.

And Thorin knew better than to ask for more. But he did it anyway, because he needed to get his company out of Mirkwood. Instead he got them captured by elves, just like the book claimed would happen. And now he was in this cell, the quest was at risk and where his companions were Mahal only knew. Well, the elves probably knew as well, but they were hardly going to give him the information he needed.

Kate seemed to realise she had said something that had unsettled him. Lately she seemed to be able to read him better than he was comfortable with. That privilege had been Dís’s before now and hers alone. And he had been known as one of the most unreadable persons alive, but where the advisor was concerned he appeared to be an open book.

‘Good grief,’ she whispered, probably realising the implications of what she had said. ‘Thorin, I am sorry. That was tactless, it really was.’ She seemed distressed, but it was difficult to make out. She had already been restless before. It was a feeling Thorin himself understood all too well. Being locked up with no access to any information made him edgy too. Who knew if Mr Baggins even could break them out of this place? There was no way of telling it for sure. There was only what should be, but no guarantee that this _should be_ was what would happen. And it was frustrating.

Kate sat down opposite him. Thorin knew where this was going. She was in full apology flow. She had done the same thing after her rather tactless joke about Smaug doing the cooking in Erebor. These moods were few and far in between and she usually only had them when she was already exhausted or otherwise thrown off balance. And Thorin understood her need to apologise for her rather tactless remarks, but the words came out of her mouth almost too fast to make heads or tails of it.

Kate was still in the middle of her apologetic speech, but Thorin found he was not really listening. He knew the gist of what she was saying, which was enough. And there was something else that got his attention. Sound carried far in these underground caves – which was what they were in essence, just with the additional bars – and the dwarf king could have sworn he heard something. The something, however, was undefined.

And undefined was not something Thorin liked, so he strained his ears and listened harder. There was definitely sound now. Footsteps it were, he decided, and an elf’s at that. No dwarf or man could walk that gracefully or that quietly. Thorin ruled out the burglar as well. If Bilbo had been approaching, he would have never even hear him coming before he was in front of the cell. The hobbit was an expert at sneaking around and besides, hobbits didn’t wear shoes. It had to be an elf.

And Kate was still in full flow, blabbing all kinds of information that the elves should never hear. Because if they did hear, it would be obvious that the story they had been telling their captors was nothing more than that: a story. And Thorin knew he could not be exposed as a liar in the given circumstances. But not only would they be exposed as liars, the elves would also learn many other things about them and the quest. The dwarf was sure that he did not want Thranduil to know that Kate hailed from another world and that she had knowledge of events that were yet to come, including their escape from his dungeons. The elf could never find that out.

‘Catherine!’ he hissed at her, hoping to get her attention by using her full name, the one he knew she did not particularly like.

Kate did not hear him. She was rambling now and Thorin thought it a fair guess that she had not heard him talking to her at all. And the footsteps of the elf – he believed that there was only one, but he was not entirely certain – were closer now than he was comfortable with. Who knows what that pointy-eared being had already heard? Elves did have stronger senses after all.

‘ _Catherine_!’ he tried again, again to absolutely no avail.

He needed to keep her quiet, plain and simple. The elves could not hear her, so maybe he could do what he had done before, when the orcs had been approaching at night, and clasp a hand over her mouth. But he also remembered that Kate had bitten him when he had done that the first time and that shutting up had not been very high on her list of priorities after that. Besides, he did not think that it was something a husband did to his wife. They had to pretend to be married while they were in here and for some reason he did not believe that it was done to keep her from blabbing things out like that. The elves looking in would know that something was amiss. They would know that the woman had been saying things that were not meant for their ears. They might keep a closer eye on them then and that was something they could do without.

But what other way was there? What did not look suspicious and what would silence Kate at the same time? And then it hit him. Of course.

Thorin did not allow himself to think it over. There was no time for thinking about it and if he did, he might change his mind instantly. He knew he would. So he did not think, leaned in and pressed his lips against Kate’s while she was still in the middle of a sentence.

The chattering stopped instantly. Kate froze into place, shocked and startled by this course of action. But Thorin knew her well. Shock never lasted long with the advisor and he half feared that when it inevitably would wear off, he would either get slapped across the face or bitten again. He could not yet decide which of the two it would be. What he was certain of was that he would find himself on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing later, but that was something he could deal with as long as long as she waited with it until the elf was gone.

What he had not expected from her was to relax. He had one hand on her shoulder and he could almost feel the tension leave her body. And this confused him. Why would she do that? It was almost as if she enjoyed it, but that could not be true, could it? She had never liked him, not like that. They were friends, nothing more.

But Thorin already knew that was not entirely true. He had done a lot of thinking after the inferno, had kept wondering why people reached the wrong conclusion about the two of them time and again. He had come to realise that they had been giving off the wrong signs to just about everyone they had met. It made him wonder why he did that and that had led to the conclusion that he _did_ care about the advisor, and more than just as a friend. He didn’t allow normal friends to sleep with their heads in his lap, he didn’t look out for normal friends the way he did for Kate. Sometime during this journey something had changed between them and he could not for the life of him pinpoint when or how it had happened.

There was no physical attraction. He still thought Kate as skinny and hairless as she had ever been and had he not known her as he did and he would have passed her in the street, he would not have spared her a second glance. He might not have spared her a first to begin with. But he had come to know her, her fiery temper, dry sense of humour, her newfound loyalty to her friends and family in this world. He had grown to like her, more than he should. Because such a thing did not happen, not between two individuals of a different race. And it could never last. Kate’s home was not in this world, but now it would help him in pulling this off. After Mirkwood all those undefined feelings would need to be shut away. He could simply not afford it. The quest was more important, _had_ to be more important.

In the meantime he would be lying to himself shamelessly if he claimed that this did not feel good. It felt better than anything he had experienced in years. It felt like being complete in a strange and also very alarming way. Kate hesitantly laid a hand against his cheek, a caress. Her hands were still soft, but he could feel the results of travelling in the wild for months on her palms. They were rougher than they had been.

And she was responding. Maybe she had heard the elf approaching as well now that she had finally stopped talking, had understood the need for acting. He could not think of another reason why she would suddenly kiss him, even if he had been the one to start it. Kate had never wasted an opportunity to point out that the thought of the two of them together was beyond ridiculous. She was not interested in him the way he had become interested in her, Mahal help him. How had this even happened?

This would not happen again. Even as their lips were still practically glued together, he knew that this would be just this once, to fool the elves into thinking something that was, at least for him, awfully close to the truth. So he committed it to memory, every movement, the feeling of a stray lock of red curly hair tickling the back of his hand, the feeling of the advisor’s mouth against his.

He was dragged back to the real world by the amused chuckle of what could only be an elf. No other being could make laughing sound like a song. ‘So, it is true.’

The dwarf let go of Kate, turning to the door. He inwardly moaned when he recognised Elvaethor’s face. Thranduil may be his sworn enemy and Galas his own pain in the behind, but Elvaethor was like a stinging insect you never could get killed: buzzing around your head, driving you crazy, inducing the urgent need to squash it and always just out of reach. He had been studying the supposed relationship while they were marching north and had always seemed to find it very interesting. But the elf’s very presence made Thorin’s skin crawl.

Apparently Kate was of the same opinion. ‘You again.’ She managed to convey all the annoyance and contempt that she felt with just those two words. ‘Nice to have seen you again. Can you just bugger off now?’

But neither Thorin nor Kate could make him “bugger off,” no matter how much they wanted it. And Thorin wanted this elf to go away, sooner rather than later. But they were in a cell and Elvaethor was free to go where he wished.

‘I came to see to your wound, my lady,’ the redheaded elf informed her.

‘It’s as good as healed,’ Kate countered. ‘There is nothing for you to look at.’ Thorin knew it was the truth. Her arm functioned almost just as well as it had before she had been injured. Kate was fine, if a bit flustered now. Her cheeks were a bright crimson and Thorin suspected it was because she was embarrassed. He himself did not feel quite at ease with an elf witnessing that kiss, but he knew better than to show it. Anger was a much safer way to deal with these matters anyway. Embarrassment was a weakness and he could not afford to be weak in this place. He needed to be strong here, especially when he was facing his captors.

‘Why are you here?’ he demanded. The wound was just the excuse to come down here. It was not the reason. Thorin prided himself in knowing when he was being lied to. He had been fooled by Azog – and he was none too proud of that – but he knew Elvaethor was not telling the truth. He had come down here for another reason and Thorin passionately hoped it was not to continue his study of his relationship with Kate. He was not sure if he could handle that so shortly after the kiss.

Because his feelings were confused, unclear. Kate would call it a mess. That kiss meant something, had marked the change of something. Maybe it had only served to point out to him just how much the woman had come to mean to him. It sealed what he felt, what he had suspected he felt for a little over a week now. It felt as if he had crossed the point of no return and it frightened him.

‘I said I came to see to your lady’s injury,’ the elf said pleasantly.

‘Part of the reason,’ Kate shot back, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Not all of it. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?’ It would seem that their personal insect’s presence unnerved her just as much as Thorin, although for slightly different reasons perhaps. She seemed more or less ashamed that Elvaethor had seen what he had seen. While Thorin could understand that she did not want witnesses to something that for some reason had turned out to be so intimate, it also annoyed him that she was apparently ashamed of what had happened between them just now.

‘Well, I cannot deny that yours is an interesting story,’ Elvaethor said. ‘A dwarf who married a human woman is rare enough, but you are not just any dwarf, are you, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór?’

Thorin was suddenly grateful that there were bars between them and the elf. Kate was looking at their pain in the behind as if she was dying to strangle him and Thorin could not find it in himself to fault her for that. The elf’s gloating was getting at his nerves, badly.

‘If you want a nice romantic story, just ask your minstrel to sing some bloody ballad,’ Kate grumbled. Her fists were clenching and unclenching, a clear sign that she was trying not to lose her patience with this annoying elf, a fight, Thorin suspected, she was doomed to lose. For that too he could not blame her. Mahal knew elves were an infuriating race. They may be Ilúvatar’s firstborn children, but could he not have made them a little less annoying? ‘Our story is our own. It is none of your concern.’

Elvaethor seated himself on the cold stone floor outside the cell. ‘But it is a very interesting story surely,’ he argued. ‘No offence, my lady, but you are not of noble birth, yet you attracted the attention of dwarven royalty. This has not been known to happen in the history of this world.’

‘Obviously there’s a first for everything,’ Kate countered.

Apparently. Kate was right, as was Elvaethor. Never before had one of Thorin’s kind fallen in love with one of another race. It was not done. It did not happen. And now Thorin found himself in danger of being the first to fall for an ordinary human woman with no beard and a lot of mouth. And she did not even hail from this world. It was insane. That was perhaps the best thing that could be said of it.

But this would never even have happened had Gandalf not been his meddling annoying self. It was the wizard who had brought Kate to this world against her wishes and, as it had turned out, against Thorin’s wishes as well. None of them had wanted her in the company, least of all in an advising role. Yet that was what had forced them to work together. Had they not been forced to do that, they would never have become as close as they had.

For a moment the dwarf king wondered if that had been Gandalf’s intention all along, to get the two of them together, but he dismissed that fanciful thought right away. No, Gandalf was no matchmaker. Kingmaker, yes, meddler extraordinaire, yes, and expert manipulator, yes. But he was no matchmaker. Thorin simply refused to believe that. He had just chosen Kate because he believed she was the right person to make Thorin listen and maybe he had intended for them to become friends, but that was it.

‘So it would seem,’ Elvaethor agreed. ‘And I feel I must apologise for doubting your words.’

Kate’s eyes narrowed a little further. ‘You doubted our word?’

‘An understandable mistake, I’m sure you’ll agree.’ The elf still smiled serenely. It was, as Kate used to say, one of their default settings and one of the most infuriating as well. ‘I simply suspected that there was another reason why you told us you had been married. For your protection, I assumed. I must now correct these assumptions.’

‘Yes, thank you for that,’ Kate said sarcastically. ‘Did your mother never tell you it is rude to spy on people, especially in these situations? You may have missed it, but it is a tiny bit humiliating. We’re not here for your personal entertainment.’

Was that why she was so angry, because she felt that token of affection had been put on show for all to see? That was something Thorin could understand, something he could relate to. He did not feel at ease with that himself. But it had to be done and he did not regret it, not even when it had made such a mess of his own feelings.

‘No, you are not,’ the elf said. ‘And I apologise for imposing on you in such a way.’ He smiled at them. ‘It would be a shame if no songs would be written about such a remarkable couple.’

Kate’s eyes flashed. ‘Don’t you dare.’ Thorin found he shared that particular sentiment. He had been praised in more than enough songs after Azanulbizar. He did not want to be praised in some stupid elven ballad based on a lie.

Elvaethor slowly got to his feet and Thorin and Kate followed suit. They could not go anywhere, but this elf looked down on them more than enough already and Thorin would not make it any worse than it was by remaining seated while the elf towered over him. He did have some pride, even though he had been locked up.

‘I would not write a song with such a disappointing ending,’ he informed the two of them. ‘It would not be fitting. A love such as yours is worthy of a better end.’ He smiled at them. ‘It should not end in a dungeon.’ He sounded almost sad, disappointed even maybe, almost as if he had lost the chance to write a wonderful ballad.

What was he saying here? Once again Thorin cursed his inability to read between lines. Normally he was good at that, but elves were very difficult to read, if they could be read at all. Elvaethor gave the vague impression of being on their side, but he dismissed that notion in the same thought. He could not understand the elves and their strange schemes and he should not wish for it either. Nothing they said could be taken at face value.

‘What do you mean?’ Kate questioned. She too must have sensed there was more to his words.

Elvaethor made a slight bow in her direction. ‘Nothing more than what I said, my lady.’ That was as evasive an answer as Thorin had ever heard. It was infuriating too. ‘I shall take my leave of you. I know when I am unwelcome.’

He turned on his heels and left. Well, at least he knew when he was not welcome indeed. Thorin was glad to see the back of him and it was with some satisfaction that he heard the footsteps fade into the distance. But this did mean that they were alone again and after what had happened between them, Thorin had no doubt they had an urgent need to discuss a few things. And the dwarf king may be courageous, bordering on reckless, on the battlefield, but this was something he inwardly cowered away from. Of course he would never tell that to anyone, not even to Kate. Especially not to Kate, he corrected himself.

But he was saved from having such a conversation by the most unexpected of visitors. He had already opened his mouth when someone on the other side of the bars spoke. ‘Thank goodness, I thought he’d never leave.’

 

***

 

Kate had turned away from the door, so when a very familiar voice spoke, she swivelled around to look at… nothing. The space in front of the door was empty. But that was not too much of a surprise, because she recognised the voice that had spoken instantly.

‘Bilbo!’ She had to lower her voice in order not to alarm Elvaethor in case he was still close, but she found it almost impossible to hide her relief now. True, she had hoped that Bilbo would come to find them, because that was what happened in the book, but she also knew better than to hope for it, in case it didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. That was what the kind-of-argument with Thorin had been about in the first place. Now she allowed the relief to wash over her. The book would turn out to be right. Sometimes that frightened her more than she was ready to admit, but now she felt like doing a happy dance around this cell because of it.

The hobbit slipped the Ring off his finger, tucking it away in the pocket of his jacket. He looked dishevelled, tired and distinctly ruffled, but only a fool would miss out on the smug expression on his face. And he had probably every right to look like that, because he had gone more or less undetected so far – to the extent that the elves knew that someone had to be there, but they could not track him down and arrest him, which had infuriated Galas to absolutely no end – he had remained free and now he had sneaked into the dungeons to find them.

‘You have no idea how happy I am to see you,’ Kate told him. And it was the truth.

The smug expression intensified in tenfold. ‘Well, you always did say I would make for a good burglar.’ Kate needed to think a moment about when she had said such a thing. ‘In the Misty Mountains?’ Bilbo reminded her.

It came back to her then. In the Misty Mountains, when they had been on the run from the goblins, they had had a small break in one cave or the other. They had needed to catch their breaths and get some rest, but Kate had found that sleep eluded her and the same had been true for Bilbo. Instead they had ended up talking about how he had outwitted the goblins and had managed to find Gandalf. Somewhere during that conversation Kate had remarked that he actually was well on his way to become a good burglar.

Unfortunately that was also the conversation when Bilbo had asked her if the Great Goblin’s assumption about Thorin and her being together had been true. Kate had denied it of course. No, they were not a couple and at the time she had never believed in the possibility of them ever becoming one.

At the time. That was precisely the point where everything had gone wrong. Because now, right now, Kate didn’t even think that the possibility was that impossible anymore, not after that blasted kiss. Ugh, she could still vividly recall the feeling of those lips on hers and it had successfully managed to break down every single wall she had built.

Because if anything, saying that she did not have feelings for this dwarf would be a lie. She did. She’d had them for quite a while too, she reckoned, even if she had been so forcefully denying them that she had not even recognised them for what they were anymore. But of course Thorin, blasted dwarf, had to put an end to that by silencing her in the most inappropriate way imaginable. What on earth had he been thinking?

Because that was what it was. The kiss had just been a way to shut her up, nothing more. While she had been prattling on, Thorin must have heard Elvaethor’s approach and it was logical that he did not want her to blab every last bit of information she had to the enemy. She had to be silenced. Up to that point Kate could understand his reasoning. But when she came to his methods, she was completely lost.

And it would seem that the same could be said about her heart. No matter how much she told herself that this was not a fanfiction and that this did just not happen in real life – _so get a sodding grip on yourself, Andrews_ – that to Thorin this had only been an act – _so stop behaving like a drooling teenager, girl_ – and that she had more or less promised herself not to form any permanent attachment in this world – _because that can only end in heartbreak and tears_ – the fact remained that something had changed with that sodding kiss and Kate was not entirely sure she was in the mood to consider that already.

Fortunately she had distraction near at hand, because the burglar was still standing in front of the cell. ‘How did you get here?’ she wondered. ‘We must be very deep down, right?’

Bilbo did not disappoint. ‘I’ll have you know that it wasn’t easy.’ The tone strangely reminded Kate of the tone he had used when he was about to relate to her how he had sneaked past the goblins; a mixture of smugness and pride, which he, she had to admit, was entitled to. It could not have been easy at all to sneak past elves, who were by all rights far more observant than the goblins. ‘It’s a maze down here and the elves have done a lot to keep you all separated.’

‘So we noticed,’ Thorin remarked gruffly.

‘I think I know where everyone is,’ the hobbit reported. ‘All I had to do was to follow the guards when they went to bring food. You two were distinctly harder to locate, but then I saw that…’ He was clearly looking for the right words to describe Kate’s own personal pain in the behind.

‘Annoying, pointy-eared tree-lover,’ she provided. ‘His name’s Elvaethor.’ And it annoyed her to no end that Tolkien never made any mention of him, or Galas, come to think of it. She had absolutely nothing to go on when it came to them and that was unnerving. And that was leaving that elf’s mysterious behaviour out of her consideration.

‘Him, yes,’ Bilbo said. ‘He’s the captain of the guard, apparently.’

Kate tried and failed not to snort. Just her luck of course. She knew the book had never named this captain, or described him. All the reader knew about him was that he was male – because he was referred to as a _he_ – and that he got drunk on the eve of the dwarves’ escape. Apparently Elvaethor was the one who, if everything went well, would get himself drunk sooner or later, although Kate obviously preferred the sooner over the later.

‘Charming,’ she commented sarcastically. ‘So, you followed him down here?’ At Bilbo’s nod, she frowned. ‘I did not see him leaving any food.’

At this Bilbo’s face took on the colour of an overripe tomato. ‘You were… ehm… otherwise occupied,’ he managed to say. ‘He left it next to the door.’

At this Kate had to work hard to not follow the hobbit’s example and blush like an idiot. She definitely did not want to be reminded of what had happened between Thorin and her. That had to be saved for later, when they were out of this damp cell. Or, better still, she ought to delete it in its entirety, because she was not sure she could handle the consequences of what had occurred here.

‘Good, I’m starving.’ She wasn’t, but that was something Bilbo did not need to know. For now she was just desperate for another topic of conversation, something Thorin and Bilbo both at least suspected, she thought.

The dwarf was as ill at ease as Kate herself was. The signs were subtle, but she had come to know him well. His posture was rigid, his words more formal and the look in his eyes alert. He treated this like he would any crisis situation and, come to think of it, that was exactly what this was. This was a crisis and a huge one at that. At least Thorin had his priorities sorted.

 _So, take that as an example and stop being so ridiculously sentimental, Catherine Andrews_ , she told herself. That kiss was over and done with. She was no squealing fangirl and this was no fanfiction. This was reality and in reality people sometimes had to do compromising things to save their skins. There needn’t necessarily be a happily ever after either. _Get your head out of your stories and back to the here and now, girl. There’s work to do. Floating on a cloud will not get you out of this dreadful place._ Her mental reprimand helped some.

Bilbo handed them the plate. Say of the elves what you like, but they didn’t let their prisoners starve. The meal was fit for a king. Kate had not been really hungry before then, but the sight of food reminded her that she had not eaten for quite some time.

‘Eat,’ Thorin commanded the hobbit brusquely.

‘I can steal some later,’ Bilbo said.

‘Eat,’ Thorin repeated. It was his own unique brand of caring, one Bilbo had not quite worked out yet, but Kate knew what this was. She had seen it before, another sign that she had spent far too much time in the dwarf’s company. If, no _when_ , they got out of this prison, she would need to keep her distance from him, if only to protect her own heart.

How had this even happened? She had sworn that she would not make any permanent attachments and up to the Misty Mountains she had done well. Of course that was when the Ri brothers cheerfully ignored that vow and dragged her into their family, regardless of her own wishes on the matter. Next she had allowed herself to befriend Thorin, because it would make cooperating so much easier. But now it would seem she got quite a lot more than she had bargained for. Somewhere down that road Thorin had become more to her than she was even comfortable with.

And Thorin himself was of course completely unmoved. He had not even blinked. He had just kissed her, made her heart a mess and then drawn away as if it meant nothing at all. To him it probably did not mean a single thing. It was just the best way to stop her from telling the elves all the information they could not have. For some stupid reason she felt as if he’d rejected her, used her and then cast her away without a second thought.

 _Get. A. Grip_. ‘Please eat,’ she told the hobbit. ‘He won’t shut up otherwise.’

Bilbo looked at both of them and then nodded, handing the plate to Kate afterwards. She took some and then passed it on to Thorin. It was the strangest meal she’d had in a long while. All of them were quiet and a little uncomfortable as well. Bilbo was on one side of the door and Thorin and Kate on the other and yet they had to eat from one single plate. Fortunately the bars were rather far apart. They could see and hear each other perfectly. The blasted things only prevented them from getting out, which was no doubt exactly what those things had been meant for. Not even Kate, who had heard on various occasions that she could be blown away in the gentlest breeze, would be able to squeeze through. And even if she could, it wouldn’t do her any good as long as she didn’t have a way out.

‘So, you know where everyone is?’ Kate asked when the last crumb had been cleared from the plate. Now that her stomach was filled and she forced her mind to think about the more serious matters, she did feel better. And the awkward situation with Thorin was a whole lot easier to ignore than it had been before. Bilbo’s arrival had come just in time.

Bilbo nodded. ‘It wasn’t really difficult to work it out. You’re all on different levels, but they kept you relatively near the main corridor and staircase. I think they just don’t want to have too much trouble remembering where they put everyone. The two of you are the deepest down. That elf, Galas, he said you were the most dangerous prisoners, so you had to be kept as far down as possible.’

This was hardly the time to make fun of the situation, but Kate could not help herself. She sniggered. ‘What, he actually called _me_ dangerous? Good grief, he’s even more delusional than I already thought he was. What an idiot.’

‘Do not underestimate him.’ Thorin ignored her and addressed Bilbo. ‘He has a temper and no love of dwarves. He will take great care to ensure our continued captivity.’

Kate found that she was not too surprised at that. During the journey here Thranduil’s arrogant nephew had never wasted an opportunity to humiliate them. Kate had seen it and had she not had her arm in that sling and had she not been tied to Thorin, she might have lost her temper before the first day was out, acquainting her fist with that too perfect nose of the elf’s. It was true that she had wondered how Galas would look with a broken nose and she had fantasised more than once about being the reason for said broken nose herself. She soon found that these little fantasies helped her cope with the reality of not being able to act on those impulses.

For Thorin it had been even worse. It had not taken the elves long to establish that he was the leader of the company. They, Galas most of all, had taunted him mercilessly about his inability to look after his company and hey had made scathing and humiliating references to quarrels and feuds that were probably older than the Roman empire. She had not understood all of it, despite her relatively good knowledge of Tolkien’s works, and most of it had been very subtle, but she had not been unaware of Thorin’s reactions to such jests. It had been very real and very painful for him. Kate had seen the fury burning in his eyes as he fought to keep his mouth shut. It had been humiliating for someone with such pride as Thorin had. Had his hands not been bound, Galas’s head might have been removed from his shoulders before he could utter another insult. Kate doubted Thorin would have even felt the arrows the other elves would have fired at him in case of such an event before the deed had been done.

Bilbo frowned. ‘There’s a feast tomorrow evening,’ he reported. ‘He complained about having to attend to Elvaethor this morning.’

Now it was Kate’s turn to frown. ‘That can’t be right.’ The words had escaped her mouth before she could even begin to check them. ‘The book says there’s a feast only two weeks after the company has been imprisoned. We’ve only been here for about a day.’ Her mind was working overtime. If she remembered correctly, then the company would escape from Thranduil’s dungeons at the night of the feast, because that was when the butler and the captain of the guards got themselves drunk and that was also the night that the empty barrels were pushed into the river. It was the night of the company’s escape.

But the timing was all wrong. It should not be so soon. True, Bilbo had found out where every dwarf was kept a lot sooner than the book said he would need and that was a pleasant surprise, but surely they needed more time to get ready, more time to prepare? Bilbo was truly a remarkable hobbit – doubtlessly the reason why he had been chosen as a burglar by the ever mysterious wizard – but even he could not work miracles.

She turned around to face Thorin, awkwardness at least for the moment forgotten. They had more important things to concern themselves with. He too had a frown in his forehead as he processed that information. ‘There’s a time difference,’ he said eventually. ‘We came here later than we should have in the book, because we took the Men-i-Naugrim.’

Kate nodded, feeling rather stupid for not coming up with that herself. He was right of course. They had taken the southern route instead of the northern one, which meant that they had a good way still to go after they had been captured. The date of Thranduil’s feast however had not been changed, which was why they had far less time to prepare their escape than they should have had otherwise. _Why had it seemed like a good idea to take the southern route again?_

But if she had to make that decision again today, even knowing what she knew now, she knew she would make the same choice. Because now Azog was dead and they had not encountered spiders, nor had anyone lost their memory. That had to be worth something. But Bifur would be alive had they taken the elven path.

 _And how would you know?_ common sense demanded. _It’s not as if that book is so very reliable._

But in this particular case it was. But the past was done and they could not change it now. All they could reasonably change was the future and if they did not want to spend a large part of said future in this cursed prison, they had to go and do something. Kate gave herself a quick mental kick in the behind.

‘We should risk it, don’t you think?’ she asked. Common sense was very much opposed to taking risks, but Kate told it to shut up. If she wanted risk-free, she would remain in this cell to the end of her days and that was not going to happen. She wanted to see the sunlight again. And one thing was for sure: she would not see the sun ever again if she chickened out now.

Thorin gave her a curt nod. ‘We should.’

‘Okay.’ She turned to Bilbo. ‘You still have my bag.’ It was more of a conclusion than a question, because she could see it sitting next to the halfling. ‘There’s a book in it, called _The Hobbit_.’

Said hobbit’s eyes widened in alarm. He knew what she was talking about. He couldn’t not know it after she had revealed the existence of that book at the top of her lungs just a little distance away from the goblins’ back door. He knew what she was talking about and, if his facial expression was anything to go by, he anticipated her next request already. ‘Yes?’

‘Get it out, will you?’ she asked, a bit wearily. What was it with the people of this world that they were treating that book as if it contained some kind of contagious disease, something they might catch if they even heard it mentioned?

Bilbo looked to Thorin for help – that had to be a first, because as far as Kate was aware the hobbit rather kept his distance after the unfortunate incident in the Misty Mountains – but that of course had been the wrong place to search for support. ‘Do it,’ Thorin told the burglar. Thank goodness that he was on her side.

Bilbo did as he was told. He searched the bag and pulled out her by now rather worn copy of _The Hobbit_.

‘There’s a chapter called _Barrels Out of Bond_ ,’ Kate informed him, ignoring his obvious discomfort. Now was not the time to start being afraid of a bit of knowledge. ‘I think it’s the ninth chapter. In it is described how we will get out of this place successfully. I want you to read it.’ She figured she would have Thorin’s permission for this course of action since he had already ordered Bilbo to retrieve the novel from the backpack. And now was not the time to ask permission. Now was clearly a time to act.

Bilbo’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. ‘You don’t mean that, do you? Can’t you read it?’

The advisor was tempted to roll her eyes at him. ‘I already did. And it would be useless anyway. I’m not the one who has to execute most of the actions detailed in that chapter. That’s going to be you.’

Bilbo swayed a little and Kate half expected him to faint on them there and then, but he merely grasped the bars for support, even if he remained too pale to be healthy. ‘I can’t…’

From the corner of her eyes she could see that the dwarf king was starting to lose patience with the company burglar and rightly so. Bilbo was stalling. ‘Yes, you can.’ _Oh dear, am I sounding like a certain American president right now_. ‘You’re braver than you give yourself credit for. Come on, what the hell happened to the hobbit who attacked heavily armed orcs with a mere letter opener and set orcs and wargs alike on fire?’ Bilbo could be a brave fellow, of that she had no doubt, but they would never get anywhere until he remembered where he had stored that bravery away. ‘And I think the choice is rather simple, Mr Burglar. It’s either you doing exactly what is in that chapter or we’ll be spending the rest of our lives in this dreadful place. We’re depending on _you_ to get us out!’ The words were snappy and impatient, but at least they seemed to do the job of reminding the hobbit of what was at stake.

‘I see.’ By the sound of it, he truly did and Kate was grateful for that fact.

She nodded. ‘Good.’ She conjured up a smile to compromise for her behaviour only seconds earlier. ‘Why don’t you sit here with us for a while? I don’t think there will be guards for quite some time.’

She was rewarded with a tentative smile in return. Brave hobbit or not, he remained a little frightened and really blame him for that she could not. Had she been in his shoes, she might have done a runner a long time ago. If they ever got out of this prison, she would tell him.

‘Thank you,’ Bilbo said, sitting down against the bars on his blanket, the book in his hands.

‘You’re welcome,’ the advisor said. She did not tell him the real reason why she had made the offer.

* * *

From Kate’s notes: _I’m a first class coward, I’ll admit it. But sitting here alone with only Thorin for company, it frightens me now. I know he will not bite my head off, but I can see that he wants to “talk about it” and I’m not sure if I want to. Good grief, I don’t even know what I want anymore. But at least Bilbo’s presence will, for the moment, forestall any conversation I don’t want to have. It’s not fair on him, but what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him either._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this chapter is a day early. I had said Thursday, but plans change and now I’ll be away tomorrow instead of today, so here is the new chapter already.  
> Anyway, I hope you all liked this one. Please review?


	49. Escape

_I sometimes wonder if I was the only one who felt so terribly awkward in that cell the next twenty-four hours. Bilbo was only nervous, as could be expected of someone who suddenly found himself responsible for the success of our escape. He fidgeted, toying with the Ring and his clothes while he read the relevant chapter about five times to memorise what needed doing. He asked a few questions and I answered them. He truly was frightened to do what he had to do, but after our discussion earlier that day he had not protested anymore and I was grateful for it._

_Thorin had gone back to sleep while Bilbo was reading. It wasn’t like him to do that, but these past few days had been taxing for all of us and Thorin was as affected by it as the rest of us were, even though he tried to deny it. I don’t think that he had slept much at all during the march to this horrid place and dwarf or not, by now his body was telling him that he had asked too much of it and he needed to rest before he could go on again. Taken into account that we had to wait now anyway, he might as well make use of the opportunity while it lasted. If everything went according to plan, we would be on the run soon enough and there would be no time to rest then._

_Guards came by every now and then, but Bilbo had discovered there was a creaking stair nearby, which always alerted us to unwanted company in time. Bilbo slipped on his Ring and I pretended to be busy braiding my hair or fixing my clothes whenever they passed by. When we were certain that the elves were gone, Bilbo would slip off the Ring again and we would continue as before. It seemed to me that the guards came by more often than they had been doing before, but I blamed it on their foolish belief that Thorin and I were dangerous._

_‘Do you think we can really do this?’ Bilbo asked at some point during our little book discussion. I understood where the question came from, because he hardly had any time at all to learn his way through Thranduil’s maze of a palace and find the barrels and the armoury, on Thorin’s insistence, because he had all but refused to leave without a weapon to defend himself with._

_But an honest answer was not the best option in this case, I reckoned. ‘Yes,’ I replied, not quite truthfully, because I had a lot of doubts of my own, but Bilbo did not need to know that. ‘Yes, I think we can.’ And when Bilbo still looked rather sceptical, I added: ‘So far things have always gone the way it is written in that book.’_ More or less anyway _. ‘This time will not be any different.’_

_Lie though it may be, it was enough to reassure the hobbit, so when Thorin woke again after his beauty sleep, Bilbo left to do what needed doing and I took Thorin’s place on the mattress to get some sleep myself. What was true for the dwarf king, was also true for me. We all needed to be well rested for the escape we were trying to attempt. I thought the nerves about it would keep me awake for hours, but the discussion and those nerves had tired me out and I fell asleep almost right away…_

 

Thorin leaned against the wall of the cell as Kate slept. She had stayed awake to answer Mr Baggins’s questions while he had rested and part of him felt bad for it. He knew the book as well, could have helped in some way, yet he had let Kate convince him to take a rest. There was a certain irony in that. The only two women he had listened to before now were his mother and occasionally his sister, and the latter only really when he could not help it. He did not know how and when he had let Kate become the third on that list.

But there were a lot of things he did not understand right now. He did not know why he reacted to Kate the way he did, or how he had even allowed her to claim such a spot in his heart. Because that was what she had done. That kiss had been more than just friendship and more than just an act. And that made the whole thing horribly confusing, scaring. It needn’t have been. Had Kate not responded in quite such an enthusiastic way, they could just have put it down to the need to shut her up and the urgent need to make Elvaethor believe that they were a married couple. But she had responded and that had landed them in a situation neither of them were comfortable with.

Because only a fool would miss out on the awkwardness this cell was filled with. Mr Baggins had either not noticed or had the decency to pretend that he had not noticed. Maybe he just put it down to the fact that the kiss, something that was supposedly so intimate that it should be private, had been witnessed by two people. He had blushed rather badly when the topic was mentioned.

Kate hardly dared to meet his eyes. She always found some excuse to look at other things, anything but him. Either she was talking to the burglar, she was inspecting her almost healed wound or she was busy trying to fix her hair or clothes. Normally she had no reservations whatsoever about looking him in the eye and telling him exactly what she thought about a situation. But she did not even really talk to him and if she had to, her cheeks flushed a bright crimson in what could be shame or embarrassment.

And it hurt more than Thorin was willing to admit. He now at least had good reason to believe that his feelings, however undefined, were not one-sided. Kate was no actress. She could not have made it look and feel so real if there was not something there that made her capable of making it look and feel so genuine. Thorin was after all no fool. He could not afford to be when there was an entire people depending on him. But if he was not quite ready to start defining his feelings, Kate was even less so.

She was asleep now on the mattress while Thorin kept watch. She had crawled underneath the blanket and had kept her cloak around her for warmth as well. He could see that she was not quite comfortable, but knew better than to offer to lie down next to her. After what had passed between them, he did not think either of them would be entirely fine with it.

And so he kept his distance, staring towards the abandoned corridor, occasionally glancing at the sleeping advisor. The dungeons were quiet. Even if there were elven patrols, they were so light on their feet Thorin never really heard them approach. Sometimes he only saw them when they were already looking into his cell.

This made him wonder about Elvaethor. He had heard that elf long before he even reached his cell. And he was not very different from others of his kind, apart from his unhealthy and creepy interest in Thorin’s relationship with Kate. It was almost, so he pondered, as if that elf had wanted them to know that he was coming.

But not all of the guards were like him unfortunately. Most of them hardly spared him a second glance. They only looked to see if he was still where he was supposed to be and then they were off again. Others looked at him, and most of the time at Kate as well, as if he were an oddity. Knowing elves as he did, Thorin thought it to be a fair guess that most of them had never even seen a dwarf before, not even once in their long lives. They were simply curious, in the way young children were curious about all things that were unknown to them. There did not seem to be any malice behind their inquisitive glances, but they were still their captors, still their enemies and Thorin rewarded their looks with as fierce a glare as he could muster. They were always gone quickly after that.

It was the last category Thorin had a true problem with. Those were the truly old elves, the ones who actually remembered the wars of the First Age and who, consequently, hated all dwarves with a passion, completely ignoring the fact that even if their version of the tale was accurate – which Thorin rather doubted, knowing the elves’ tendency to twist every story so that it only suited them – there was still not a chance that Thorin could be held responsible for those events. He had not been born and even his kin had had no part in those wars.

Of course it would be no good to try and tell the elves that. They were too convinced that the entire dwarven race was to blame, too convinced that all dwarves were in essence the same and therefore would always be prone to commit crimes like that again. And elves’ memories were very long indeed and they kept grudges better than any other race in Middle Earth.

Those guards looked at Thorin as if he was worth less than the mud under their shoes. He met their gazes defiantly, cloaking himself in a dignified silence, even as they insulted him. It was the right thing to be doing. And he would not lose what little dignity he still had left by losing control over himself. They would not get the satisfaction of humiliating him in such a manner.

His resolve to remain silent was severely tested though by the time most of the afternoon had passed, or so he supposed, since time was hard to keep track of in this darkness. This time he did actually hear his visitor approach. Because this was a visitor. He had more or less worked out the guards’ schedule and it was too early for them to show up again already. This was someone who had come here with a specific purpose and Thorin found himself wishing for some kind of weapon. Mahal knew he would hate for that Elvaethor to show up again.

There was one silver lining about this: it wasn’t Elvaethor. Unfortunately it was one of the two people Thorin liked to see even less. It wasn’t his sworn enemy, it was his nephew, Thorin’s very own pain in the behind. Galas, now dressed in those impractical elven robes instead of the practical clothing he had worn while he was with the patrol, came strutting into the corridor.

‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Look who we have here. Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór.’ The tone of voice was unmistakably mocking.

 _That took you long enough to figure out_. Thorin’s mental voice once again sounded an awful lot like the company advisor’s, but he kept his silence for now. He was not going to give Galas the satisfaction of an answer. Speaking about practising what one preached. It would seem Kate had a point with that.

For some reason Thorin’s silence annoyed the elf all the more. The look on his face darkened, and it had never been very pleasant to begin with. ‘You lied about your name,’ he said in an accusing manner.

‘I did,’ Thorin confirmed calmly. There was after all no denying it. He might as well own up to it and relish in the fact that he had been able to outwit an elf.

‘It’s a dishonourable thing to do.’ Galas spoke those words as if he had expected no less from someone of Thorin’s kind, as if the fact that he did not lie about his name made him a better person, of a superior race, than the dwarf king.

And said dwarf did not think Thranduil’s nephew was in any position to lecture anyone on dishonourable behaviour. ‘Then what do you call people who hit women with the hilt of their sword just because they speak words the receiver does not want to hear?’ he countered calmly. Dignified silence would not work on this elf. And Thorin was not sure he wanted to remain quiet when this one hurled insult after insult at his head. He may be locked inside this cell, but that did not mean he was prepared to swallow everything the elves threw at him. And if he was really honest, angering Galas was good fun as well. And Mahal knew that was a hard thing to come by.

And angered was exactly what the elf was. He looked at Thorin as if he wanted nothing better than to rip him to pieces, but that would get blood on those fine robes of his, so Thorin didn’t think he’d risk it, provided he had the necessary bodily strength for it and the dwarf knew for a fact that he had not.

It pleased him even more that the elf was unable to come up with an answer to Thorin’s accusations. No culture in Middle Earth looked kindly on hitting women and elves, who prided themselves on being the most civilised race in the world, least of all. Galas had done something dishonourable, although he would never admit to that of course. Thorin had not expected anything else from him.

‘You lied,’ he repeated, choosing to ignore the accusation altogether.

‘I did,’ Thorin confirmed again. ‘And you let yourself be lied to.’

Galas’s eyes narrowed and even though Thorin knew that if this would ever come to a real fight, he would come out as victor, he still felt a cold shiver go down his spine. Galas was not someone to be trifled with and he had more effective ways to fight an enemy, especially when said enemy was already in a cell. He had his status as royalty and that was as effective a weapon as any blade and as good a thing to hide behind as any shield. As long as Thorin had known him, which was for quite some time, come to think of it, he had done so. He had already used his royal status to prevent the dwarves of Erebor from hitting him square in the face, as he doubtlessly deserved. Thorin remembered that diplomatic visit all too well and if anything, it had solidified his already very low opinion of elves.

‘You knew me long ago,’ Thorin reminded Thranduil’s nephew. ‘It is not my mistake that you did not remember, even if your uncle still did. You could have known who I was, you could have known I had lied to you right from the start, yet you didn’t.’ He kept his voice calm and almost patient, the way he had always done when he was explaining things to Fíli and Kíli when they were little. It was a better way of getting on Galas’s nerves than biting remarks. That would not be dignified, but this was in its own unique way.

And Galas was the one losing his patience and therefore his dignity here. The elf may be hundreds of years older than Thorin, but he was not acting it. Maybe he had been so spoiled all his life that he had never learned to properly behave like an adult. Thorin would not rule out that option.

‘My king wants you gone from this place,’ he informed him.

 _I’m not really anxious to hang around here for much longer myself_. Once again his mental voice sounded a lot like Kate. He had to be careful with that, he reminded himself. Getting attached to the company advisor would only end up in heartbreak.

‘Then you should let us go,’ the dwarf replied. ‘We did not ask for this particular brand of elvish hospitality.’ He truly had spent too much time around the advisor. He was starting to sound like her, no matter how much he tried to avoid it. But at least it was an affliction Kate was suffering from as well. Sometimes she could copy his tone of voice so well, it was as if she had stolen it from him, a strange thought indeed.

‘Oh, we will,’ Galas said nonchalantly. ‘But we will have your word first.’

Of course there was a catch. There always was when the elves were involved. And of course they asked the one thing Thorin would never give to them. Because he had meant what he had told Thranduil: he would rather die than give up on his quest. They had come too far already. He would not turn around now to live the rest of his days in exile.

But it was about more than his own pride and his own longing to have a place to call home again. He had a whole people who needed a home, a place to live, a place where they would not be looked down upon the way they were now. His people were a proud people and exile was a humiliation. And as their king, Thorin owed it to them to give them the best he could. Balin had been right when he had told Thorin they had a life of peace and plenty in Ered Luin, but it was not as much peace and as much plenty as they had had when they had lived in Erebor.

He had been willing to put up with it for decades, because there had been no opportunity to do anything about it, but then Gandalf had come with the key, the one that was now hidden on Kate’s person in a place Thorin rather not spent too much time thinking about. There was an opportunity and, if the escape was successful tonight, they might still be in time for Durin’s Day. He would not give up and he would not give Thranduil, or that arrogant nephew of his for that matter, what he wanted.

‘You will not have it,’ Thorin told the elf icily.

The smile on the elf’s face was disturbing, even more so because it was directed at Kate’s still sleeping form. ‘There are more ways than one to ensure a prisoner’s cooperation,’ he informed the dwarf.

Said dwarf felt as if his stomach had been twisted into knots. He knew exactly what Galas was implying. ‘You would sink to the orcs’ level to get what you want?’ he growled. That was low, really low, especially for elves, who were so proud of their civilised manners, who always claimed they didn’t do things like that. It would seem that in this regard the elven race had some rotten apples after all and Galas was decidedly one of them.

‘Only if you force our hand.’ The elf was entirely too relaxed about this and it made Thorin’s blood boil. He would torture an innocent woman to make Thorin give his word to return to the other side of the Misty Mountains? But Galas had already shown a remarkable disregard for Kate’s female status when he had first knocked her out. He should not be surprised.

‘You do not touch my sister!’ The words were growled with such anger as Thorin himself at the time experienced and the voice to growl those words was very familiar. The dwarf king had just not expected to hear it here, because the owner of said voice was supposed to be locked up in a cell somewhere else in Thranduil’s maze of a dungeon.

Galas turned around, but he was already too late to react. He had been so caught up in taunting Thorin that he had failed to pay any attention to his surroundings and that was costing him. He swivelled around, only to be met with a very angry and undeniably violent Dori.

‘What…?’ was all he managed to say.

‘You. Do. Not. Touch. My. Sister.’ Every word was emphasised by a hit of Dori’s fist. Kate’s brother did not have a weapon, but he didn’t need to. He was one of the strongest dwarves in the company. If he really wanted to do damage, all he needed to do was to clench his fists and swing them around.

And that was exactly what he was doing now. He stomped the elf twice in the stomach before said elf could even begin to think to call out an alarm or make any move to defend himself. Thranduil’s nephew doubled over as a reflex, allowing Dori to reach his head, on which he landed the next four blows in rapid succession. By the time Dori was finished speaking and dealing out Galas’s judgement for threatening Kate, the elf was lying motionless on the floor, out cold. Thorin only regretted the fact that he had not been the one to put him there.

‘Thank you,’ he told Dori.

‘My pleasure,’ was the grim reply. Thorin thought it to be a fair guess to say that he meant that. Knocking out this arrogant elf as a payment for the threats he had made against the advisor had been a pleasure to him. Dori was a decent and gentle fellow for most of the time, but when one was as foolish as to attack his family, he had really no limits. And Kate was family to him, even if it was only by choice and not by blood. Thorin respected him for it. It was obvious that the dwarf with the elaborate hairdo was protective of Kate and Mahal knew she needed people to look after her, not that he would ever be heard to tell her, because then it might just be her who ripped his head off.

Kate suddenly seemed to be wide awake and Thorin strongly suspected her to have been all along. She had done so before, so he should not be surprised that she had done it again. The advisor got up in one fluent motion. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to see you,’ she told her brother. ‘How did you get out?’

‘The burglar,’ Dori replied. ‘He should be here with the key any moment. I decided to go ahead when we learned that elf had gone down here. And just in time, it would seem.’

Just in time indeed. Thorin did not really think Galas would have gone through with his threats, not right away anyway. But he might have done another day, had they not been escaping this night. But Dori’s help truly came just in time. Thorin would never know now if he would have been able to keep his temper in check, but he doubted it and then he would have reached through the bars to strangle Galas, regardless of the consequences. Had the elves seen that, they would have found themselves in a very tight spot. It was only when he realised that, that he also realised he had been prepared to kill in cold blood for Kate’s sake and this did nothing whatsoever to put an end to the inner chaos he was still experiencing when it came to the woman.

Fortunately he had distraction near at hand, because the hobbit ran into the corridor. He looked rather flustered and one look at the unconscious elf intensified that in tenfold. ‘Oh, dear me,’ he muttered. ‘Was that really necessary?’

‘Yes.’ Thorin felt a little uncomfortable when he found Dori and he had given the same answer simultaneously.

Kate had noticed it too. She tried and failed to bite back a smile. ‘He had it coming, Bilbo,’ she informed the hobbit. ‘For being a spoiled arrogant bastard.’

Thorin found it impossible to argue with that. ‘Get us out,’ he commanded. Really, this was not the time for the hobbit to remember that knocking people out was not the honourable thing to do. They had an escape to make. ‘The guards?’ he informed.

It was Dori who answered that question. ‘Most of them had to be knocked out,’ he replied calmly. He sounded wholly unconcerned and Thorin shared the sentiment. The elves had kept them prisoner under truly humiliating circumstances. They needed to get a taste of their own medicine in Thorin’s opinion.

Bilbo did not seem to share that opinion, but he kept his opinion to himself, which was a good thing. He fumbled with the keys he held in his hands and unlocked the door. ‘We do not have very much time,’ he said.

Kate would have told him that was stating the obvious, but they did not have any time for that. Thorin simply nodded his agreement and stepped out of the cell, Kate following in his wake. And Mr Baggins had been the one to get them out of this place in the first place. Thorin supposed that for just this once he could go a little easier on the burglar.

Kate looked at the elf, a frown on her forehead. ‘What shall we do with him?’ she wondered.

‘Leave him,’ Thorin said. ‘He’s still breathing. He will wake eventually.’

The advisor looked him in the eyes for what the dwarf believed the first time since before the kiss, a mischievous twinkle in hers. ‘Actually, I have a better plan…’

 

***

 

It was more than satisfactory to see Galas the Annoying dragged into the cell that had held her not so very long ago. The elf was still unconscious, so Dori and Thorin had no trouble at all moving him. Thranduil’s nephew’s fine robes dragged over the not quite clean floor, which in Kate’s opinion was an added bonus. She didn’t think of herself as the vengeful type, but she was happy to make an exception for this one. He had been the one to knock her out and mock her for most of the journey. Kate was not about to forget that anytime soon.

And it was strange that she was more and more choosing the dwarves’ side in the conflict between elves and dwarves. She had loved Tolkien’s work and found the elvish history as he had written it fascinating. So when she had come to Middle Earth for real, even if she had not come willingly, or quietly, she had imagined that the elves would be nice, good beings. _The Hobbit_ movie surely had exaggerated when they were concerned.

It turned out that she had never been so wrong in her life. Elves annoyed her. There really was no other word for it. The Rivendell ones had not been too bad, all things considered, but these Mirkwood elves were making her want to bash their heads against the walls of their own dungeons, and that was not something Kate Andrews was prone to think. She did not consider herself a violent person. It would seem this new Kate was a lot of things the old Kate was not. She had still to decide if that was a change for the better or not. Somehow she doubted it.

‘Serves him right,’ she commented as Galas was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. The advisor suspected the king of dropping the elf not on the mattress but next to it on the cold, hard ground on purpose. She couldn’t blame him.

‘Indeed,’ Dori agreed.

Bilbo was fidgeting with his clothes near the entrance of the cell, visibly anxious to go and go this very minute, preferably before anything could go wrong. And Kate agreed with him there. It would be very foolish to wait until the next elven patrol would come around.

‘Let’s go,’ she said. Thorin was more likely to take it from her than he was to take it from the hobbit. They had made some kind of truce after Azog’s first attack on their party, even if it had not really been agreed upon. But that agreement was more of the kind that prevented Thorin from bothering the hobbit. He had come to see Bilbo’s qualities, of this Kate was certain, but he wasn’t the kind of person to say such a thing. It just was not in his character. And today she did not think he would have any patience for the fussing burglar.

She got a curt nod in response and so she turned around to set the example herself. It was more of a way not to look at the dwarf, though. She knew that and she also knew that they could not go on like this indefinitely. People would start to notice if they did. But the kiss still confused her and she could not for the life of her tell if it had been nothing but an act or that there had been more to it. Her common sense settled on the act, because nothing was more important to Thorin than the quest. He had made that quite clear on various occasions. He would do whatever it took to make sure it succeeded and apparently that included kissing her as a way to shut her up. Friends they were and nothing more. Good grief, they had been trying to get their companions to see that for months now, had been trying to tell them on countless occasions. And Kate’s feelings on that subject may have changed, but that did not mean Thorin’s had too.

Bilbo quickly took the lead. He may be a little fussy, but he knew what he was doing and where he was going, which was more than could be said for the dwarves and woman. Kate knew she must have walked here before, but that was all a bit of a blur and she could not really recall which route they had taken then. It might have been a different route altogether. All these hallways and staircases looked the same to her.

‘Thanks, Bilbo,’ she told the hobbit when at long last they came to the top of the stairs. Her legs were cramping after so many steps and she thought that going down those stairs was decidedly easier than ascending them, which no doubt was exactly what the elves intended.

Speaking of elves, there did not seem to be very many of them at all. Kate saw some of the elvish guards, but they were all taking an involuntary nap, having been knocked out by escaped dwarves. On first thought this seemed suspicious to her, because it didn’t seem like a very elvish thing to do, but then she remembered that there was a feast going on somewhere in the palace and that, according to the book, most of Thranduil’s people were too busy being merry, that they could hardly be bothered to check on their prisoners. That was what made this night so ideal for an escape in the first place.

‘It was as your book predicted,’ the hobbit said, trying to be modest, but failing to keep the smug edge out of his voice. For just this once, he may be entitled to it, because book knowledge or not, this had been quite a feat and Kate was impressed. ‘The captain of the guard and the butler went to taste the wine, but it was too strong for them and now they are both sleeping.’

Kate had a very amusing mental picture of Elvaethor lying with his head on some table or other, merrily snoring the night away – if elves did such an ordinary thing as snoring – and having to come to the unpleasant conclusion in the morning that his prisoners had gone AWOL while he had been drunk. The thought was one that made her smile.

On Thorin’s insistence they visited the armoury first. Kate would have skipped it. Weapons were no good when one was trapped in a barrel and if the book was right, then they would be provided with new ones in Lake-town. She was not particularly attached to her own sword, even if it was a beautiful one and relatively easy to handle. All the things she needed were in the bag she had quickly taken back from Bilbo once he had gotten them out of their prison cell. She felt reassured having it with her. It contained her last links to home, the evidence that the old Kate had even existed. Lately she felt like she was in danger of forgetting that with everything else that was going on.

And this little trip would only cost them valuable time. She did not feel comfortable with it, but Thorin was adamant about it and when he was in one of those moods, she knew better than to protest. And maybe she too would feel somewhat safer if she had a way to defend herself. Lately she had come to realise that she was more of a fighter than she had believed herself to be. This did definitely not mean that her fighting skills had improved, but it did mean that she wanted a chance to defend herself properly and so she kept her mouth well and truly shut when the company burglar guided them towards the armoury.

It was positively huge. For some reason this freaked her out a little. How were they going to find their weapons in here? What did the elves need so many weapons for in the first place? They lived secluded, not anywhere near any form of civilisation as far as Kate was aware. They did not seem to have any real enemies, apart from the spiders that were populating the area maybe. Dol Guldur was far to the south. Kate did not think Sauron could do very much in this region apart from sickening the forest. Of course that was a bad thing to begin with, but it did make Kate wonder.

In the end the company, most of which had already been there when Kate’s little group arrived, had little difficulty in locating their weapons. Their possessions had been more or less kept together and were hard to overlook to begin with. Kate frowned. It was as if their things had been put on display for all to see. Or, so she wondered, it was almost as if someone had _wanted_ them to find it.

‘Here, take it.’ Thorin’s voice snapped her out of her musings. Kate looked up to see he was holding out Excalibur to her.

She risked a quick smile at him, before looking at the sword, as if to inspect it. That may of course be part of it, but it wasn’t all of it. _You rotten coward_. ‘Thank you.’ The thing was that she could hardly look at him without blushing like a village idiot and that had to stop, sooner rather than later. She was making a fool out of herself behaving like a lovesick teenager and they had far more important things going on than that at the moment. Her personal feelings would have to wait till later and if the best way to achieve that was to stay away from Thorin, then that was what she would be doing.

‘I want you to take this as well.’ Thorin was clearly not yet finished and she was forced to look up again, because not doing so would undeniably be rude.

It turned out that he was holding a dagger. She supposed it was elvish, since she could not remember seeing it with any of them before now. It was quite distinctive. Kate was sure she would have recognised it if she had chanced upon it before now.

She raised an eyebrow, deciding that humour might just be the best way to deal with situations like these. ‘Stealing from our hosts now?’ she inquired mockingly. ‘What has the world come to?’ This, this teasing she could still do without blushing. It had always been her personal kind of shield. It protected her from fear, from anger and seemingly from embarrassment as well.

Thorin recognised it for what it was, but thank goodness went along with it. ‘Look at it as payment,’ he suggested. ‘To make up for the inconvenience they have caused us.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Kate said, taking the dagger from him, taking care to avoid touching his skin as she did so. ‘It’s very… thoughtful of our hosts to make up for their behaviour in such a way.’ She cracked a smile. It did relieve the tension somewhat.

Thorin chuckled as well, which was a very welcome sound. ‘That’s the elves for you, Kate. They are very thoughtful creatures when they put their minds to it.’

 _Thorin Oakenshield, being sarcastic? Whatever next?_ ‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ she said.

The chuckling died away. ‘Kate?’ It was something of a command mixed up with a hesitant question, not a combination the advisor was used to when it came to this dwarf.

She looked up at him, telling herself that she was not going to blush this time. She was a grown woman and she could keep a sodding grip on herself and her treacherous emotions. ‘Yes?’

The look in his eyes was both intense and determined, a tell-tale sign that he was passionate about the thing he was about to discuss and there was no way that she would be able to sway his mind on the subject, not without a truly massive fight at any rate and that was not something she was looking particularly forward to, certainly not in the middle of what could be called enemy territory. They had better things to do.

‘When we arrive in Lake-town, we need to talk,’ the dwarf said. It was more of a command than a request. There was not a chance that she could wriggle herself out of this, not when the idea had gotten stuck in that thick skull of his.

She favoured him with a very non-enthusiastic nod. ‘I know.’ It did not make her like the prospect though. If she had her way, then they would just ignore the elephant in the room for the rest of the quest. At least that meant that she would never be forced tell Thorin the truth about her feelings for him, because they were there. If anything had proven that to her, then this involuntary stay in Thranduil’s dungeons had.

And she feared it far worse than she probably should. Thorin might already know what she felt for him. Her enthusiastic response to the kiss was a dead giveaway. But her fear was no longer about her own feelings; it was the fear for Thorin’s reaction that made her so nervous about this. Because when they had that conversation he would inevitably tell her that nothing could ever come of that one kiss. Even worse, he would tell her that he did not think of her in such a way and that would hurt. Because Kate was starting to think of him in a different way in spite of her own wishes, and she did not think that their friendship would be able to survive such a blow.

But her confirmation was enough to satisfy him for the time being and when the time for talk came, she would think of some excuse, something to keep him at arm’s length. It would not be fair on Thorin, but it would be best for both of them.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Come.’

Bilbo was the one to lead them again. Most of the company was none too happy about letting a hobbit take the lead, but Bilbo irritably snapped that if they all knew so well, they should lead on and that stopped the comments pretty much dead in their tracks. Kate tried to stifle a bark of laughter. If only the hobbit knew how much he sounded like a certain wizard in that moment. Gandalf might have said the same thing in the exact same tone of voice.

Kate hung back, walking with Nori instead of the king she was supposed to be advising. Her adoptive brother sported a shiner that he had gotten when he had spat a guard in his face when said guard came to deliver food, so he confessed in a hushed voice when he saw Dori was otherwise occupied. At her urging she found out that he had told Dori he had walked into a wall when the elves had thrown him in the cell. Kate thought that it was rather ridiculous that he would be afraid of Dori’s reaction when their older brother had been the one to molest an elf, which was decidedly more serious than spitting one in the eyes. It made both of them giggle like idiots.

Kate blamed the nerves for her altogether foolish behaviour. She did not normally act this childish. But joking seemed to be the way to deal with tension and there was quite a lot of that. There had not been so much at first, when the excitement of their escape still made her feel practically invincible, but it was there now. There were still very many things that could go wrong. There had just to be one elven guard in this part of the palace who raised the alarm for the entire plan to go belly-up. No matter what she had said to Bilbo, what was written in the book was no guarantee that everything would go the way they wanted it to go. But she kept that to herself for now. Most of her friends were nervous enough as it was. There was no reason why she should share that particular piece of information with them. It would only make them worry as well and last she checked worrying had never solved a single thing.

There were not many elven guards in this part of the castle and come to think of it, why should there be? Who would want to guard a couple of empty barrels, especially on the night that the elven king was celebrating only goodness knows what? He might even be celebrating the capture of the dwarves for all Kate knew. He seemed the type to do such a thing.

She thanked her lucky stars Thranduil was blissfully unaware of the book and its contents or he’d have posted more guards here. But it would seem that her words to Bilbo would turn out to be true. The cellar they had entered was empty, save for the barrels and the very drunk and sleeping figures of Elvaethor and another elf, who Kate suspected to be the butler the book had mentioned. Apart from the snoring, the scene was exactly as she had imagined it to be. Clearly elves were too perfect to do something as normal and annoying as snoring.

‘That’s a stroke of luck,’ Bofur commented as he too took in the situation. A big contagious smile appeared on his face. ‘Well done, Bilbo!’

Bilbo coloured a bright red at the praise. ‘I had help,’ he muttered, sending a meaningful glance in Kate’s direction.

He was right of course and the advisor knew that. But it had been Bilbo who had executed all their plans and at great personal risk as well. Maybe she should just do the right thing for once and give praise where it was due. ‘He’s right,’ she told the hobbit. ‘Great work.’

Even Thorin nodded his agreement, which had to be a first. He had never liked the burglar much and even now he was not inclined to stop and really praise him. ‘Get in the barrels,’ he ordered them.

Bombur looked a bit peaky, but that might have something to do with him wondering if there would be a barrel big enough to hold him. Kate glanced over at the barrels and conceded that he may have a point. There were one or two that might do, but _might_ was definitely the operative word.

She was glancing around to pick her own barrel when she caught sight of Elvaethor again. That would not be so very dramatic at all, had the elf not had his eyes open. His head was still in the same position on the table, but he was not sleeping. Her stomach dropped. They had been discovered and by the very elf who had appeared to be on their side at that. For all his talk about happy endings and his care for Kate’s wound he had seemed like some sort of friend, if not a very reliable friend at that.

She froze into place, but none of her friends noticed. They were far too busy climbing into barrels and asking Bilbo to fill them up with straw to prevent them from being bruised and battered to pieces, with which they had a point. Kate contemplated killing the elf before he had a chance to raise the alarm, but felt reluctant to do so because he had been kind to her in his own unique way. Murdering him seemed like poor repayment. But she could not let him ruin the plan either.

She was saved from having to make such a decision by Elvaethor himself. The elf caught sight of her and then, of all things to be doing, winked as if he was in on the whole plan and approved of it.

That was when the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. Elvaethor’s babbling about happy endings for songs, the obvious lack of guards in the dungeons this night, the weapons that had been all too easy to find… And then there was the fact that he was watching this, clearly having no intention to do anything to stop it. What did that elf think he was even doing? Was he really on their side? What was he playing at? If she was thinking correctly, then he might even have been the one to make that guard so drunk that he was out cold, an idea that was only strengthened by the notion that Elvaethor himself seemed to be perfectly sober.

But that would indicate that he had known they were planning to escape tonight in the first place and he could not have known that. Not unless he had listened to every single thing she had discussed with Bilbo last night. It was a possibility. The elves walked so quietly one could hardly hear them. Elvaethor could have listened in, but the question remained that it made absolutely no sense for him to betray his king to help this company. It didn’t add up.

‘Bilbo, do you still have the keys?’ she asked of the hobbit, making a spur of the moment decision.

Said hobbit nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Give them to me,’ the advisor all but commanded. ‘I’ll return them to the captain of the guards. He isn’t half bad as elves go and he has been kind to us. And Thranduil might suspect him of setting us free if he can’t produce those sodding keys.’ There, now she had made it sound like the Right Thing to do. And if she was right, then Elvaethor had been an immense help with this prison break. The theory still sounded insane, but it was the only logical explanation of the facts.

‘He has done nothing for us,’ Thorin said dismissively.

The burglar handed the keys over in spite of Thorin’s grumbling and got on with his task as Kate marched over to the elf to put the keys back in the pocket of his coat. She was not sure that this was where they had come from in the first place, but this did allow her to lean over, so that she could talk, or rather whisper to him without anyone noticing.

‘What on earth are you playing at?’ she demanded in a low whisper.

‘Playing, my lady?’ the elf whispered back. He kept his eyes closed, but he was awake.

‘Stop messing around,’ the advisor hissed. ‘I know you helped us escape tonight and I think you overheard several conversations as well. What I don’t know is why.’ And somehow it seemed very important that she knew exactly why Elvaethor had done what he had done, because it was so unusual for an elf to do what he did.

The smallest hint of a smile showed on the elf’s face as Kate put the keys away. ‘Does not every song deserve a worthy end, my lady?’

That was it? That was the reason he threw his orders to the wind and risked his life to help them escape? All because he believed in happy endings, even if those happy endings had to be helped along somewhat? Had this come from any other elf than Elvaethor, Kate would have been suspicious right away. But this was Elvaethor and he was a dreamer, she had come to learn in the time she had known him.

‘You are completely insane,’ she informed him, because that was the truth. ‘But thank you.’ Because insane this may be, he was the one to help them to get away from this place. And Thranduil could better not find out about that, or Elvaethor was a dead elf walking.

‘Kate, hurry up!’ Dori called over at her. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Dori already half lowered into a barrel, but not about to sit back before he knew for certain that his family was accounted for. His concern made Kate smile.

‘Coming,’ she replied. ‘I’m almost done.’

She turned back to find Elvaethor smiling again, his eyes open. ‘Until we meet again, Lady Kate.’ He closed his eyes and returned to his state of pretend sleep.

The advisor took that as her cue to leave. She took the barrel next to Glóin and waited for Bilbo to close the lid over her head.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I don’t think I’d have believed it possible for an elf to be on our side, but it would seem that miracles never cease. Elvaethor is a mystery and an annoying one, but he did risk his life for us, and all for some stupid happy ending. What would he be, the elvish equivalent of a village idiot?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have the escape and Galas has been taken down a peg or two, as several of you requested. Come on, he could not really get away with this, could he?  
> This update’s a few hours earlier than usual, but I’ll be away for a large part of the day and I am not quite sure for how long yet, so I thought I’d update a few hours earlier.   
> Next time there’ll be barrels. Until then, reviews would mean the world. I’d love to hear your opinion.


	50. Tossed and Turned

_The barrel escape. It has often been described as the most original way to exit an elvish palace against the owner’s wishes. It had never been done before and to my knowledge it has never been done after, not in the last place because Thranduil started to guard that unlikely exit the way a dragon guards its plunder. I have this from a very reliable source, because I never felt the need to go back and see it for myself. Despite the fact that we are not at war with Mirkwood and we have reasonably well functioning trade relations – note the use of the word reasonable – it would not be a wise idea to actually show our heads there. In my world people would say that we were persona non grata, but that language is not actually in use in Middle Earth. Let’s just say that we are less than welcome guests. And of course we were never too keen on visiting ourselves._

_So yes, I have heard our barrel escape being described as original and daring. It was both, but if I should be looking for the correct way to describe it, I would call it reckless and completely insane. I don’t know what Tolkien was thinking when he wrote that part of his book, but I started to doubt his sanity. Could he not have thought of another way to have the company escape that horrid place? A secret tunnel would have done as well. Of course that would not make for a very exiting chapter in a book, but by the time we were about to escape in those blasted barrels I did not care for excitement. Boring and mundane sounded like heaven, so naturally it didn’t happen._

_But that too is one of the things that never made it to your bedtime stories. And for this we might be forgiven, I believe. Because you were children and you liked to hear epic tales of heroic deeds and daring escapes, so that was what we gave to you. And you loved it. I can still see you begging Thorin for that story, even when you could tell it better than we could by that time. Of course your father never minded telling it, since he was rather fond of it himself. I have a lingering suspicion that he banished the unpleasant details to the back of his mind._

_Maybe you even loved it too much. This particularly occurred to me the day my two eldest sons decided to recreate the story by trying to sail down the River Running in unused mead barrels you had stolen from somewhere. Thoren, Thráin, I don’t think you were aware of the danger, but Mahal knows we were. You could have gotten yourself hurt or even killed doing that, had Duria not chickened out of the plan at the last minute and run to us to inform us what was going on._

_I think the two of you were already in the barrels, trying to roll yourselves into the current when we came out. Yes, I know we shouted at you and I don’t think that was a particularly wise thing to be doing, but oh dears, did you scare me that day. I think a few of my hairs turned grey instantly because of that one event._

_We had of course forgotten to add the_ don’t try this at home _warning when we told you the story – consider it given now – but maybe the account of the real event as we experienced it, will tell you why we were so upset when you tried to copy it…_

 

Kate was having a minor panic attack the moment Bilbo closed the lid over her head. Her barrel was filled with a lot of straw to protect her from the impact of the shocks and bumps she was bound to experience in the coming hours, but this also meant that she was sitting in a cramped position and could hardly lift a finger. That was more terrifying than she was ready to admit. And then there was the fact that she could not see a thing. It was as dark around her as it had been in Mirkwood at night and that forest did not hold many fond memories at all.

 _Get a grip on yourself, girl_ , she ordered herself. _You’re a grown woman and this is the only way you’ll get out. Stop being such a big baby._

Her mental scolding helped, but only a little. Because Kate Andrews had never been a hero. She was not one of the world’s biggest cowards – because the biggest cowards did not call wargs nice doggies and didn’t knock out orcs with wooden shields – but she did come close. And she wanted out, consequences be damned. She had never been really terrified of the dark and she had never been claustrophobic, but then, she had not been afraid of heights until she took a flight by eagle either. This journey made her feel a lot of things she had not experienced before, it would seem.

But getting out now was not an option. Kate listened intently to what was going on outside her barrel and at first there did not seem too much noise. Most of her friends had already been packed away in barrels by the time she had finished her confusing conversation with Elvaethor and Bilbo did not have a lot of work left to do.

She did wonder about that elf, did wonder what he was up to. Elves, she had come to learn, never revealed all their plans to the world and Elvaethor was probably no exception. All that inane babbling about love of happy endings was probably no more than that: babbling. Elves always were up to something.

If she had not known better, she’d have said that he wanted Erebor restored to its former glory, because helping Thorin escape certainly indicated that. Not that this made sense at all, because elves did not like strong dwarven kingdoms in their backyards. Not that they liked dangerous dragons any better, but Smaug had not shown his ugly face for nigh on sixty years. It would be a logical assumption that they would not be troubled much by him. So what did Elvaethor want?

Thinking about it probably was not going to help her very much. Who could ever know what was going on inside an elvish head anyway? Only time would tell, but that was not something Kate liked very much. She liked certainties in her life and the fact that she knew next to nothing about Elvaethor unnerved her. And the book was not a great deal of help either. The book never even named him.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of happy voices coming into the cellar. ‘Where’s Galion, the butler?’ Kate heard one of them ask. ‘I haven’t seen him at the tables tonight. He ought to be here now to show us what is to be done.’ The voice sounded a little annoyed, displeased with the butler’s absence. Of course Galion was not absent at all. _Just in mind, not in body._

‘I shall be very angry if the old slowcoach is late.’ Another elf sounded even more annoyed, possibly because he had been dragged from the feast while he just wanted to have fun. His next words only confirmed that. ‘I have no wish to waste time down here while the song is up.’

These elves reminded Kate of the Rivendell elves: silly and song-loving. They were apparently not too different from their kinsmen on the other side of the Misty Mountains. The only thing in which they really differed was their treatment of dwarves. When amongst their own, they were just as fond of music and feasts as the Rivendell elves. And Kate remembered that Tolkien had described the Mirkwood elves as good folk, just a little more suspicious than others of their kind. It was just because Kate had been on the receiving end of aforementioned suspicion that she had not seen them for what they really were. Or rather, she _had_ seen them for what they really were. She had just not seen all of it. But she doubted she would ever have seen this side of them had she not been hidden in a barrel. Her association with the company of Thorin Oakenshield had made sure that they would never see her in a better light.

‘Oh,’ someone else said. Well, it was more like a yawn than an actual word. Kate imagined the owner of the voice just stretched and then took in his surroundings, but she could not see a single thing. All she had to go on was her hearing. She sorely missed the additional information her eyes could have provided her with. But it could not be helped. She was locked up in this bloody barrel and that might last for quite a while.

‘Ah, did you begin a little feast of your own, Elvaethor?’ the first elf asked.

Elvaethor had been the one to “wake” now? Galion the Butler must still be asleep then. Oh, this really was a messed up version of the book, but Kate did wonder to what extent this was just the book messed up. If she was thinking correctly, the captain of the guards played a large part in this as well.

‘We had to do something to pass the time while you fellows drunk and made merry up at the king’s palace,’ the red-haired elf retorted. ‘I’ll wager you almost forgot your tasks, maybe even on purpose.’ There was an underlying tone of stern disapproval, as if he was lecturing the elves that had just arrived. ‘It’s a small wonder we fell asleep.’

‘Small wonder when wine stands close at hand in a jug!’ the second elf laughed.

‘Watch your tongue, Cenion,’ Elvaethor’s voice said. He sounded stern, the true captain of the guards who reprimanded his subordinate. There was no trace now of the dreamy and happy-ending-loving elf now. That did not necessarily mean that that had been a mask. Elves could be both silly and dead serious, Kate had come to learn. It did make things ridiculously confusing and the elves themselves unpredictable.

What the company advisor was rather sure of though was the notion that Elvaethor would not betray their presence to these new arrivals. Whatever his game was, it was not to stop the company from escaping the dungeons. That at least was a relief.

‘I beg your pardon.’ Cenion sounded somewhat apologetic.

‘I should hope so. Be off with you. You know what to do.’ Elvaethor sounded rather icy, a lot like Thorin actually, and Kate started to realise why he was captain of the guards. At first she had not understood that at all, because if anything the elf seemed like the elvish equivalent of a village idiot, but apparently he could do stern and commanding as well.

One of the elves groaned. Again Kate wished she could see something, anything at all. She had heard only two besides Elvaethor, but that did not mean there could not be more. It was utterly dark in here and elves could move so softly they would never hear them coming at all.

Her wondering about the number of elves quickly vanished when she could hear the sound of barrels being moved about. Suddenly the thought that she was going to be rolled down a trap door into a cold and swift-flowing river was all too present in her mind. Kate had never liked rollercoasters and something told her that this was going to be a lot worse than that. Water might come in, fill the barrel, sink it and she would not be able to get out. She would be alone in the dark, drowning and no one would miss her until Lake-town and by then it would be far too late for help.

The panic was trying to work its way into her head and Kate had to work hard to keep herself from voicing that panic in a scream. No one would thank her for doing that, the company least of all, not when the prison break had been extremely successful thus far.

 _Get a grip, Andrews_ , she told herself sternly. _This is your only chance to get out of here, so you will_ not _act like a baby._ This realisation helped some, but not much. Her mind knew this was the only way she would ever get out of this place and if she did not want to spend the rest of her life in that dark, claustrophobia-inducing dungeon, then she would keep quiet and stay in this barrel until they were far, far away from this horrible palace and its king.

This did not make her dread what was about to happen to her any less though. All around her barrels were being moved and it wasn’t long before she heard the first one fall into the water below the cellar. That might be one of her friends in that barrel. Her stomach tied itself into tight knots.

‘Elvaethor, I am sure that this wine has addled your wits,’ one of the barrel-pushing elves remarked. ‘These are the full casks you have us pull out, not the empty ones, if there is anything in weight.’

Kate imagined that the captain of the guards unleashed an icy glare on the elf who had spoken. ‘I’d rather think the wine may have addled yours. The consumption of it has weakened your arms. These are the ones to go and no others. Do as I say!’

There was some grumbling, but no one apparently dared to protest out loud anymore, for which Kate was grateful, for as much as she dreaded this journey by river, she dreaded being found out even more. Because if that happened, she would never see any daylight again and if she was certain of one thing, then it was that she had seen quite enough of that horrid dungeon for the rest of her life. She wanted her freedom back.

‘Very well, very well,’ the addressed elf muttered. ‘But on your head be it if the king’s full butter tubs and his best wine is pushed into the river for the men of Lake-town to feast on for nothing!’

‘I assure you that the king will not find any of his butter or his wine missing,’ Elvaethor said confidently.

 _Dwarves however are another matter altogether_ , Kate thought, hoping and praying that it would take a while for the elves to discover what had happened. Dori had more or less admitted to knocking out several of the guards and Kate knew that her adopted brother had a lot of physical strength. She had seen it only recently when he had used it to knock out Galas. And Dwalin did not seem like the type to take half measures either. Those guards would be well and truly out for a while. With a bit of luck it would only be when the next shift came in that their absence was noted. That could take another few hours or so. They might be very lucky.

That was if they would not get killed by barrel first. The company advisor had hardly finished the thought when her barrel was taken up, turned over and then she was rolling over the floor. Her heart was beating so loud that she could swear the elves must hear it. This kind of movement was already inducing a slight nausea, although that could be put down to nerves as well.

‘Down they go!’ the elves announced. That was the only warning she got. She could hear the sound of elves complaining about the weight and the sound of the river and then she was in free fall. And she was terrified. It was ridiculous, she told herself. The book stated that all of them would be all right in the end and that should have reassured her. Normally it scared her that the book was so often accurate – and she feared that, especially when it came to the ending – but now it helped her in not panicking to such an extent that she would scream.

 _The Hobbit_ described the barrel escape from Bilbo’s point of view and while the prospect of swimming in such an icy river, holding on to some barrel or other for dear life, was o tempting prospect at all, at the moment Kate would choose it over her current predicament. Because there was one thing Tolkien had absolutely forgotten to mention and that was how terrifying it was to be trapped in a small enclosed space in complete darkness, knowing that you were on a river with a very strong current and that you could just drown if a lot of water came into aforementioned enclosed space or you could die if the barrel crashed upon some unseen rock or other. It was hell.

Admittedly, it was a very different kind of hell than the burning forest had been, but it was hell all the same. She had plunged into the water and for a moment was afraid that she had gone below the surface, but she could still hear the elves, who had now burst out into a very Tolkien-sounding farewell song to the barrels – why did elves even have to make songs about _everything_? – very well and if she had been under water they would have sounded different.

This was a relief, if not much, because she was tossed about as the barrel itself was tossed and turned in the stream. The river was running strong and wild in these parts and for a moment Kate wondered why this transport system was even in existence. It hardly seemed like a good way to her. The way things were going it felt like she could crash and her barrel would break in pieces. But the system was still used, so most of the barrels must make it to Lake-town in one piece.

 _Of course, most of them is not all of them_ , that annoying voice in the back of her head commented.

Definitely the worst thing about this was the complete isolation. No matter how bad things had been, all the other trials had been endured with her friends nearby. The warg attack that had brought them to Rivendell had been horrible, but Dori and Thorin had been there and with the latter she had even exchanged something that with some imagination might pass for a joke. The stone giants had been more or less the same and that was true as well for their encounter with the goblins. They had been able to draw strength from the presence of companions. In both fights with Azog’s merry band of misfits it had been the same. It had been frightening beyond belief, the last time even more so than the first, but she had not been alone and that was worth a lot.

Now there was nobody. She was trapped in here, all alone. Her companions were somewhere nearby, but she had no way of reaching them, no way of communicating with them. She could not even pinpoint where exactly they were. Frightening.

‘Pull yourself together,’ she growled. Saying it out loud made the fact that she was here alone a little less obvious. It was not really silent here, with the noise of the river almost deafening her, but it was good to hear a voice, even if it was just her own. Kate did not know why, but it helped. ‘One day. You need to hold out one day. You can do that. You’ve seen much, much worse.’

And that was true, even if that was not a truly happy thought either. And Kate did find that it went better eventually. This was not a thing one would ever be able to get used to and she was sure she would come out with more than one bruise, maybe even a concussion after she had bumped her head against the lid after a rather unexpected series of turning over and over again mid-stream. Bilbo had provided her with a lot of straw that was supposed to keep that from happening, but Kate had known in advance that it would be no good.

Strangely enough that was not the worst thing. After a while the stream quietened down a bit and she was not tossed about as much as previously had been the case. What she needed to worry about now was something else entirely. By her reckoning it had been early in the evening that she had been let out of the cell she had shared with Thorin and they had been pushed in the water about an hour or two after that, counting the journey out of the dungeons, the trip to the armoury and the time it had taken them to get into the barrels. In here it was impossible to measure time, but Kate reckoned that a good few hours must have passed since then.

The best indicator in this conclusion was the state of her bladder. She had not relieved herself since before she had gone to sleep in that blasted cell, she realised. Of course it had been the last thing on her mind when Dori and Bilbo came to free them and the same could be said for their escape and those first hellish hours in the river. The adrenaline had kept those concerns safely stored away in the back of her mind.

But now the adrenaline had gone and the more trivial matters presented themselves to the company advisor. The hunger and thirst were doable for the moment. And they paled in comparison with the absolute and very embarrassing need to empty her bladder, the sooner the better. That was yet another thing Tolkien had never written a thing about in this book and now she herself was stuck in that barrel, it seemed like a grave error.

‘Shit,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Why were it always those thing nobody ever thought about that proved to be of the most hinder? It had been the same with her monthlies early on – although the elvish painkiller and the supplies she had gotten from them had ensured she had not needed to bring that matter to her companions’ attention since, and thank goodness for that – and the blisters on her feet after running through Goblin-town for what felt like hours on end. None of that stuff was ever mentioned in novels and by now Kate seriously started to wonder why. If authors aimed for realism, their heroes should really be bothered by these things as well.

But she was not going to embarrass herself by relieving herself in this barrel. She did have some dignity and she had not wet the bed since she was four. If it was up to her she would not be reviving that bad habit now.

Her resolve lasted for about an hour longer. The river was still flowing swiftly and Kate still found herself frequently being tossed about as if she weighed no more than a tree’s leave that had been set adrift on the wide ocean, but strangely enough she could no longer be bothered by that now that she had a far more pressing concern. Who’d have thought that this was the biggest problem one could experience on such an escape? It was as unexpected as it was embarrassing.

They were pushed now into what Kate suspected were shallower waters. She could hear the shouts of men as they went about their work. Momentarily the fear of discovery made the bladder-problem take a backseat, but her concern was unnecessary. It would seem that the people tasked with binding the barrels together would like nothing better than going to bed or grabbing a nice drink before going to bed and they made swift work of their job. Things might be different in the morning, but for now at least they were safe, leaving her mind and body far too much time to remind her of that bigger problem.

‘Hello?’ She was distracted by the voice of the burglar, who was calling out in a hushed voice. ‘Are you there?’

It seemed not a smart thing to be doing in here, because who knows who was watching, but it was actually a relief to hear another voice, and a friendly voice at that. ‘Here!’ she called back, knocking on the barrel to indicate which one she was in.

‘Kate?’ Bilbo sounded nearer by now, and a bit hesitant too.

No, Bombur, what’d you think? Kate thought sarcastically. ‘Yes, it’s me.’ Bilbo had risked a lot for all of them and his journey could not have been pleasant at all. It would be the Right Thing to be a little bit nice to him. They owed it to him they got out in the first place. ‘You all right?’

‘I have b-b-been bet-t-t-ter.’ A violent shiver interfered with his words. ‘How are you?’

Kate grimaced, something the hobbit fortunately could not see. ‘Can you get me out of here for a few minutes?’ She tried and failed not to sound pleading.

‘Kate, that’s dangerous!’ the hobbit whispered forcefully. ‘I know it’s cramped in there.’ _No, you have absolutely no idea how bloody cramped it is in here._ ‘But we can’t risk it.’

‘It’s not that,’ the advisor informed him. ‘It’s my bladder.’ For some reason it was a whole lot less embarrassing to discuss this when she could not see the person she confessed this to. ‘Bilbo, just a minute?’ Oh yes, she was definitely pleading now, although she hated that very notion with a passion.

‘There’s one man on watch duty,’ the burglar informed her. He did sound uncomfortable. The lack of sight did nothing to help him, it would seem. ‘He’d see. You… you ehm… You need to do it in there.’ The embarrassment was too obvious to miss now. ‘I need to go and find out about the others.’ Kate could hear the sound of splashes as he moved away.

And the advisor thought she might just die of shame. The point was that there was wisdom in Bilbo’s words. There was still a long way ahead before they reached Lake-town and there was just no way she could delay the inevitable that long. And so she closed her eyes, prayed to God that no one would ever find out about this and then followed Bilbo’s advice.

 

***

 

Thorin had slept uncomfortably for a great many times during his life. It was the natural result of living so many years in exile. The dwarf had slept under the stars on floors that made his back and neck hurt, in shacks, in haystacks, small holes in the ground – that were nothing like the cosy hobbit-hole that was Mr Baggins’s residence – and on mattresses that were so thin that they did absolutely nothing to mask the fact that underneath was a very hard and very cold floor. Exile meant that he had grown used to discomfort. He knew how to deal with it and could sleep despite the fact that things were so bad.

He only wished the same could be said about his current sleeping arrangement. Barrels were promptly promoted to the first place on the list of most uncomfortable sleeping places. The dwarf king had obtained a rather large barrel with quite a bit of straw, but the fact remained that those barrels had never been intended to be used to transport any living beings in. And dwarves may not be the largest creatures to walk this earth, but the barrels still were rather cramped and Thorin’s muscles ached, protesting against the very notion of being forced into the same position for hours and hours on end.

At first it had not been too bad. And he had been tossed and turned too much in the river too much to pay any attention to that kind of discomfort. He was battered and bruised and the injuries were starting to seriously bother him. He would even admit, if only to himself, that he had been afraid that he would drown more than once.

But so far everything had gone exactly according to plan, the way the book had led him to believe things were supposed to go. It was a strange thing to see for himself how events followed that accursed book of Kate’s while said events were still unfolding. Thorin prided himself on having a good memory and he could have sworn that some of the things that the elves had said before they were pushed out of the door had been exactly the same as in that book. In a way it was unnerving.

They had bumped down the river until they had come to this place, where they, according to the book, would wait for the remainder of the night until they were transported to Esgaroth. Until then, he would have to remain quiet. These men were still elves and if they discovered their cargo, they would send them straight back to where they came from. And Thorin Oakenshield was not about to let that happen while he still lived and breathed.

Mr Baggins had come to him, asking if he was still all right and had then left again, only to report that all the members of his company were accounted for. Thorin had demanded to know and although the hobbit had not felt very much like complying with that request, he had done it all the same.

It put Thorin at ease enough to try and rest while he could. It was not a comfortable position, but he knew enough of life on the road to know that he needed to rest when he could, because only Mahal knew when he would have the chance again. And he would not be any help to anyone if he kept himself awake, wondering about the others. No one would benefit from that and so he all but forced himself to sleep.

He woke up to the feeling of aching muscles and the sound of shouting men. For a moment he feared that they had been discovered and that their plan had failed, but then he listened closer and he realised that the elves were binding the barrels together now, making a raft of it that they could easily steer down the river.

‘It’s not right,’ an elf near Thorin’s barrel muttered. ‘This is a heavy load! Look at some of these. They are never empty;  they float too deep.’

Thorin felt that someone softly kicked his barrel to indicate which one floated too deep. The dwarf could feel his heart pounding in his ears. If the elves did suspect something was amiss, they might open the casks to see what was in them and that would be the end of their daring escape. And while he was a warrior and knew how to defend himself, he was not in the ideal position to attack or to defend. He had a small hunting knife at hand. It had been taken from him when they had first been taken, but he had stolen it back last night. It was small and fitted in his boot. It was also the only weapon small enough that he could wield from his current position. He did not think it would be much use against the elves, though. It did not mean he was not prepared to fight for his life and his freedom should the situation ask for it.

But they were trying to pass unnoticed and so he controlled his breathing and tried to lie as still as he possibly could while the elf prodded his hiding place.

‘If they had come ashore in daylight, we might have had a look inside,’ another elf said.

‘I still think we should open them now,’ the first elf, the suspicious one, insisted. ‘The king won’t be pleased if they have disposed of the empty casks and sent the full ones to Esgaroth for its inhabitants to feast from.’

This was wrong, Thorin knew. He could not for the life of him remember if this had happened in Kate’s book as well, but he somehow seriously doubted it. The elves in the book were not that insistent about opening the barrels to see what was in them.

But he also knew how foolish it was to rely solely on that book. He had heard Kate complain about it more than enough to know that it was not always truthful, that the real events did as they pleased most of the time and that there was no guarantee at all that they would unfold as the events in the book. They did unfold like those predicted events often enough, but not always. Thorin had studied _The Hobbit_ himself and knew that she was right. Normally he was grateful for it, because those loopholes could just prove his salvation, but it could also mean that his quest would fail, because some nosy elves could not stop themselves from checking their cargo.

‘No time for that now!’ the second elf all but snapped – because elves, except Galas, just did not snap – impatiently. ‘The day is wearing on and we need to go.’

His companion muttered something that might be consent, but he could not be really sure. He did catch the last words, though. ‘On your head be it.’

‘That is fine by me,’ the other one said, wholly unconcerned. Thorin did not think he could keep up that attitude when he eventually found out that his load had been more than empty barrels and accidentally disposed apples and butter. ‘Shove off!’ he then called to someone else.

Thorin exhaled in relief. He did not know how close he had been to being discovered, but he could tell that it had been very close, closer than he was comfortable with. And if it had come to that, then he would not have been able to do anything about it. It was frightening. He was not used to sitting and waiting while others decided his fate. And Thorin’s fate was, for the moment at least, in the hands of a hobbit with a magic ring. Frightening that was in a way. Thorin could not even get out of this cask himself. He was not in the right position to push the lid away, because he could not lift his arms over his head and push. He truly was trapped this time.

But the elves seemed to have forgotten about their too deep floating load altogether now. They were chatting, gossiping and laughing as they steered the barrel-raft downriver. Thorin paid attention for a while, to find out if there was anything useful to be learned. It could well be that news of their escape had already reached the place where the barrels had been gathered, if the messenger travelled fast on a good horse. If that was the case, they would need to be very careful.

But Thorin imagined that if that news had reached these two elves already, they would not be gossiping about the pretty elf maidens of the court or singing ridiculous songs about their beauty. The news of dwarves escaping from a dungeon that no one else had ever escaped from, that would be the news of the day and these two did not seem concerned with that.

He stopped listening to them then, instead directing his thoughts elsewhere. Their escape would be discovered by now. Thorin imagined it had been found out hours ago. He wondered what Thranduil would do. The elf king would know immediately in which direction he would have run, would likely send men after him to stop him from going anywhere near the Mountain.

The thing was that he was not entirely sure how willing the men of Esgaroth were to obey Thranduil. He was not someone to be trifled with and his fear of Smaug would make him all the more determined to get his prisoners back. With the elves being good trade partners of the town, the people there might just be inclined to listen.

On the other hand they had been hoping for the return of the King under the Mountain. They might not be as willing to give that hope up as Thranduil might like. In this case, again, he was not entirely sure how the real events and the book events were linked. It was sometimes just too easy for the real events to do as they chose, not heeding the what-was-supposed-to-be element of it all.

It was dark in this barrel and there was water coming through as well. It wasn’t much, not nearly enough to get him into danger of sinking and drowning, but more than enough to leak through the straw and make him feel cold and wet. The summer had mostly gone now and the chill was already back in the air. This autumn might be a cold one and the winter would probably come early. Thorin remembered several years in his youth that it had been like that. Those would not be the ideal conditions to complete this quest, but he had not come so far to turn back now.

But he feared the coming events as well. At Beorn’s house he accepted Kate’s oath to stand guard over his mental health and then had banished the matter from his mind. There was a lot more that needed his attention and Mirkwood was the first and foremost of those matters. From dawn till dusk his mind had been on the forest, on finding ways to get through it without any problems. Of course the without problems part of his plan had not quite worked out, but he had spent a lot of his time thinking about how to get his company out of it on the east side.

And now that task was more or less done. Mirkwood need not bother his thoughts for much longer and then they would need to make those last miles to the Mountain. And then he would have the gold lust to fear. The very thought made his stomach twist in knots. He was not even sure how much one person could do against an illness of the mind. Thorin remembered his grandfather all too well. Whenever someone as much as hinted at him not being in his right mind, he had slapped them down and those people had not dared to protest any further, fearing the king’s wrath.

But Kate was not like that. She would probably tell him to stop being such a pig-headed buffoon and whack him over the head to get him to listen. Something about that was infinitely reassuring and Thorin found he needed that reassurance, because he feared the gold lust more than anything else in the world, more even than the dragon he would surely have to fight. But he could not leave now and abandon the quest. His people needed their home back and even if they were sceptical about the success of his quest – Thorin had heard it being compared with Thrór’s attempt to retake Khazad-Dûm – he owed it to them to try.

His thoughts wandered to Kate now. It was not something Thorin wanted to spend time thinking about, but he was trapped in a barrel now, dependent on others to get him where he needed to be. His thoughts were the only thing he had for company and they were taking on a life of their own.

Kate was confusing at the moment, a person he did not know what to do with, which was the very reason why he did not want to think about her for the moment. He needed to be focused on the quest, but his mind increasingly disobeyed him and relived memories of nights with her sleeping in his lap, in his arms – even if it had only been an act – and more than once the kiss as well.

The advisor was becoming a distraction, more so every day. But he could not leave her behind in Esgaroth, as part of him longed to do, to be rid of the one thing that kept his mind from what he needed to be focusing on, because he needed her. And she had made an oath to protect his mental health, for which she needed to be present in person. She would tag along anyway.

And a far too large part of the dwarf was glad of the need for her presence. He had come to the conclusion some time ago that telling himself that he did not feel a thing for the woman from the other world would not be fooling anyone, not even himself. There was something between them, something Thorin feared was very much one-sided. Kate had voiced her opinion about the two of them together more than once. She saw him as a friend, but not as something more than that.

And how he wished that was the truth. Because what Thorin felt for the advisor was, to phrase it with Thranduil’s words, unheard of. It did not happen. Marriages between two races did not happen, especially not when dwarves were involved. Thorin knew his history and knew of two examples of marriages between elves and men, back in the First Age, but dwarves had never married someone of another race. They kept to their own, as it was meant to be.

And maybe he would never have thought about falling for a human woman when he had not been more or less forced together with her, thanks to Gandalf and his cursed meddling. Oh, the wizard had not brought her here to mess up Thorin’s feelings – even if he would probably be overjoyed to learn of it, knowing the old man – that was what she had done all the same and now things had escalated to such an extent that it could no longer be put down to a simple friendship. This was more, stronger. And it had become utterly impossible to ignore, especially after that kiss in the dungeon.

And that was why he needed to talk to her as soon as he found the time to do so. Things had become awkward between them, to a point that Kate hardly dared to look at him. And that could not continue. This needed to be out in the open.

Thorin remembered that Dori had more or less ordered him to do right by Kate, before they had entered the dreary place that Mirkwood was. And if he was to do right by her, he needed to speak out. It made him almost more nervous than the prospect of having to fight a dragon, but it needed to be done. She would reject his attention, as she should, but if he wanted to prevent Dori from going after him to give him what he had privately dubbed the Galas-treatment, then he needed to do it. It was the right thing to do and maybe her rejection would give him closure in a way. Then he could at least let it go and concentrate on the mission that needed doing.

He had just reached that conclusion when he noticed that the barrels had come to a halt. Time was impossible to measure in here, but he suspected that this meant they had arrived at their destination. Thorin would be glad of it, because his muscles were aching more than he had ever felt before. He wanted out of this place. He had already spent far too much time alone with his thoughts and they did not make for very pleasant company. And it was dark as well. It reminded Thorin all too much of the nights of Mirkwood. This dark was quite similar. It felt equally restricting, weighing down heavily on him. He could hear well enough, but his sight was denied to him.

‘Well met!’ the elves called out to someone Thorin could not see.

Voices further away responded, but the dwarf could not make out the words. They were too far off and the wood of the cask did not do anything to help him either. He did assume that it was an invitation to come and join them or something else very much like that, because he could feel the elves starting to move. They had been right on top of him for most of the journey, but the weight now disappeared from the barrel. He could feel that he did not float as deeply as he had before now that they disappeared.

He heard voices for a while, but after some time they died away and then only the sound left was the sound of gentle waves against the barrels. The water was still in these parts and Thorin did remember something about there being a quiet bay near the town and he guessed that was where they were now. In this regard it did help to have a book. He was not completely clueless. He knew what was going on.

It was only then that he realised that the escape had been successful. They had made it out of the dungeons and had then managed to outwit several other elves. He was free again and even if the men of Esgaroth decided to send him back, he could fight again. That had been denied to him before and he was not in a hurry to be in such a situation anytime soon again.

He was pondering this when he became aware that someone was cutting the ropes that tied his barrel to that of the others. For a moment his heart nearly stopped, but then he remembered that the burglar would do this once men and elves had left. He was close to being freed and that was not an excessive luxury now.

Thorin could hear the hobbit’s laboured breathing, interrupted every now and then by a loud sneeze. Mr Baggins must have caught a cold while he had been lying in the icy river. The dwarf was not too surprised. If the little water that had leaked into his cask was already giving him cold shivers, it had to be worse for Bilbo, who had not had straw to keep the worst away.

The barrel was rolled onto the shore and came to a halt a little distance away from the water. Then there was some struggling with the lid before the thing suddenly gave way and the bright light of day chased away the darkness.

Thorin had to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust to the sudden influx of light, but then he found himself staring at a very miserable looking hobbit. But the burglar’s predicament had to take a backseat for a while. For now the dwarf just felt triumphant. They had done it. They were free again.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I’ll never ever do this again. I have no idea what Tolkien was even thinking when he wrote this, but I am seriously starting to doubt his sanity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 50 already. I have no idea when this story became so huge. And now I had them spend a whole chapter in barrels. I have seriously no clue as to how that even happened, but it did.   
> Next update will not be this Sunday, but the Sunday after that because I’m going away with friends for a week this Friday and I most likely won’t have access to internet then. Probably just as well, because I fear I might be coming down with a mild case of the dreaded writer’s block, so hopefully the holiday will help with that.  
> Anyway, until the next time and reviews for this would be lovely. I really like to hear what you think, as always.


	51. Keeping Up Appearances

_So yes, dears, that’s barrel-riding for you; cold, uncomfortable and in a way far more frightening than any orc attack I have ever seen. It’s a strange thing, but I remember being more afraid of things that I could not do a single thing about than being afraid of something I could fight. Orcs are something one can fight. It would turn out that a river is not on the same list._

_But we had been lucky to have made it so far without getting caught. I think it’s bordering on a miracle, especially as I later learned that our Middle Earth variation of prison break had been discovered only about half an hour after the last barrel had been rolled out of that trap door. From a reliable source I have it that some servant came to bring some food to the guards down in the dungeons and got positively shocked by what it was that he found. He screamed bloody murder and refused to step foot in the dungeon, shocked by so much violence. You’d say that elves, looking at their history, would not be so shocked at seeing a few guards taking a blow to the head, but this one was apparently rather young and had never set foot outside Thranduil’s realm._

_What worked in our favour was that the guards were quite unable to determine how we had gotten out, because the doors were all still locked and unbroken. In that way nothing was wrong. It was just that the prisoners had all gone that was puzzling them. Some of our company were rather pleased with themselves when they learned they had indeed outwitted a bunch of elves._

_What followed was a true witch hunt, which, if my source can be believed, was more like a bunch of headless chickens tripping over themselves in their haste to find out what had happened and how it was possible for a company of thirteen prisoners, heavily guarded prisoners, to get out of their cells, knock out the security and then just vanish into thin air. They discovered that our weapons had gone, as well as some of their own weaponry, that we had added to our own collection as payment of sorts._

_Still, they were mightily confused as to how we got out of a castle that had magical doors that did not open without the elves’ permission and there was no other way out of the palace, not that they knew of. Eventually someone, an elf by the name of Cenion, realised that certain barrels had been rather heavy, a lot heavier than they should have been. He further realised that Elvaethor had been asleep before his friends and he had come in to push the casks into the river, giving a company of dwarves the chance to climb in and get out. Cenion’s a rather clever boy indeed._

_Of course this still did not solve their problem of how we had gotten out in the first place, but they did know that we had gotten out and it was not all that hard for them to realise where we were headed. But by the time they had finally ascertained that we had left the palace and were not hiding within its walls – as they had first suspected – the night was already wearing late and by the time they finally got to the place where the barrels had been gathered, the elves there had just pushed off and were well on their way to the Long Lake._

_We didn’t know how lucky we had been of course, not then. All we knew was that we were cold and wet and that our muscles ached…_

 

It was a relief to be out of the barrel. Thorin could not tell how long he had been in this makeshift prison of his own choosing, but it would be well over twelve hours. All his muscles burned and protested against being forced in the same position for hours on end and he found that his strength was deserting him. This led to a very embarrassing scene of crawling out of the cask, with some help of the burglar. Doubtlessly he would be ashamed of this later, but for the time being he was just very glad to be out of the barrel.

The escape had been successful, that was undeniable, but Thorin wondered how anyone in full possession of his brains could ever think of something so ridiculous as escaping in small barrels. But he would also have to admit that he was grateful to this person for alerting them to the weak spot in Thranduil’s security. If that weak spot had not been there, they would still be prisoners in that dungeon of his and that was not something the dwarf was anxious to repeat. He valued his freedom.

And it did feel as a relief to breathe the free air again. It was a fair morning. There was a chill in the air, but the sun was shining down on him, almost as if to welcome him back. Because that was something that was starting to seep through only now: he was nearly home. In the distance he could make out the shape of the Mountain.

His heart nearly stopped and for a moment his troubles were forgotten. He forced himself to stand and look in the direction of Erebor. Yes, he had seen it once before, when he had been seated on the back of an eagle watching east at the eagle’s insistence. But it had been far off and nothing more than a vague shape on the horizon then. That was infinitely different now.

But as he looked he felt himself disappointed.

The last time he had laid eyes on the Mountain, there had been fire and smoke everywhere. He had been on the run then, supporting a wounded warrior who leaned on him with what appeared his full weight. But he had looked back just that once. The sight that met his eyes had broken his heart. Erebor was shrouded in a dark black smoke that made it almost impossible to see anything at all. His homeland was burning, as was the land around it.

Of course it had not been like that in his youth. The land surrounding Erebor had been green and fertile and its slopes were home to huge pines. The land had been beautiful, peaceful. It was the kind of land that made one feel welcome, that made one feel like coming home. It was the mental picture Thorin had carried with him for all those years in exile. It was not just a reminder of what he had lost, but also a reminder of what he would once go home to again.

But this was not homecoming, not in the way he had imagined it would be. He had known the land had been destroyed when Smaug had come, but he had believed that the years would have healed it again. Trees and plants could be burned, but somewhere seeds remained and life would return. And now Smaug had not been seen for sixty years, so it should have gotten the chance to recover itself.

But it had not. The land was barren. The earth seemed scorched, like the earth in Mirkwood had been after their inferno. Here and there one lonely plant had braved the dragon’s danger and had sprung up, but those were few and far in between. It was nothing like the beautiful land the dwarf king remembered.

It made him fear for Erebor as well. If the land surrounding it had been so badly burned, then what would have become of the Mountain itself? He remembered joking about it with Kate, but that had been in Mirkwood. The thought of Smaug slaving away with mop and bucket was even more ridiculous here than it had already been in the darkness of Thranduil’s realm. Smaug would not have taken care of Erebor. All he cared about was the treasure and Erebor had always been so much more than that.

His heart clenched and he had to work hard to get rid of a few treacherous tears that turned to spill over at the sight of Erebor and what had once been Dale.

 _We will rebuild it_. That thought took up residence in his heart and mind. Before now he had hardly allowed himself to plan beyond the point of arriving at the back door and finding a way to open it. That was the big flaw in their plan on tackling the dragon in there: there was no plan. But now he had a purpose for after that dragon was gone and that motivated him to think about aforementioned dragon first.

Mr Baggins had marched back into the lake to retrieve another barrel and Thorin gave himself a mental kick in the behind, because he was here doing nothing while the smaller and weaker hobbit did the work of freeing his men.  And that was not the way things were supposed to be. He was the leader of this company and seeing to his men was his duty.

He marched into the lake and took the first barrel that was lying too deep in the water to be empty. His muscles protested against it, but they protested every motion right now and he had learned to ignore physical pain when there were more important things to concern himself with.

It did not take too much effort to open up the barrel and then he saw Balin’s face. The elderly dwarf looked ten times more miserable than Thorin felt, and that included the disheartening sight of the Mountain. Thorin’s oldest friend was soaked and far too pale. It was one of those times that the dwarf king realised that Balin had quite a few decades on him and was getting older. This was not the way in which one transported an elderly person.

 _You should not have taken elderly persons with you on the quest then_. Once again his mental voice sounded remarkably like Kate. And it was right, but Balin had wanted to come, would have been offended if Thorin had tried to leave him behind. And in the end Thorin was glad that he had him in his company, because Balin was his oldest friend and he valued his support and opinion. He was the steady rock in times of turmoil.

And now it was his turn to be a rock for his friend. He forced his face into a reassuring smile and reached out to grab Balin’s arms. The state he was in now he would not be able to crawl out on his own strength.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘Come, Balin.’

His friend seemed barely conscious and it did not take Óin for Thorin to realise that he was badly affected by his most recent ordeal. And so it was down to Thorin to lift him out. He at least had the bodily strength to do so and Balin’s feeble protests of being able to do it himself did not make any impact on his king.

‘Sit here,’ he ordered Balin brusquely when he had set him on the ground and had kicked away the barrel from him. ‘I’ll look for the others.’

The barest hint of a smile appeared on Balin’s face. ‘Thank you, laddie.’

This made Thorin smile. The whole world could come to an end, but it would not stop Balin from calling him laddie. In a world that seemed to have tilted on its axis, the notion that there were some things that would never change was more than welcome to him.

He responded with a curt nod. ‘Rest,’ he told his friend.

All too soon they would need to make for Esgaroth. He had been reluctant to go there because of the elvish presence in that town, but if he looked at his company now, he knew that there was no choice. They had no provisions and some of them were in a bad way. Mr Baggins had managed to free Bombur while Thorin had seen to Balin and the fat dwarf could only lie on the ground in misery, too bruised and battered to even lift a finger. He had come through this ordeal well and he had been as foolish to hope that the others would make it through just as well. It would seem that he had been mistaken in that assumption.

And now they needed the help, whatever help the people of this town would be able to offer them. Thorin had to believe that Kate’s book was right on this account as well.

He was already on his way to get a next barrel, when Balin called him back. ‘Did you see it?’ he asked.

The _it_ didn’t need any further explaining. Thorin knew what his friend meant. ‘I did,’ he said.

Somehow it felt like his heart was broken all over again. And Balin must feel the same. He too had lived there, had called it home. To see Erebor so ruined was like someone had put a dagger in his heart and twisted it there, again and again.

He turned around to face his friend. ‘We will make this right again.’ He needed to. He owed that to his people. And to make it right again, he had to survive. And in order to survive, he had to make sure that his mind was not taken over by the gold lust. And maybe having a purpose would make it easier for him to stay focused and in control. He could not fall to the lure of the gold, because his people needed him too much.

Balin nodded. ‘We will see it done,’ he promised.

Thorin nodded again and then turned to open up another cask. Mr Baggins had gone back into the water as well and was currently in the process of helping Fíli to his feet, who, Mahal be praised, only seemed to be a little stiff. ‘I hope I never smell the smell of apples again,’ he moaned. ‘My tub was full of it.’

Thorin did not know what his tub had been filled with, but he was glad that it was nothing with a distinctive smell. His stomach was demanding attention as well, but he could ignore that as long as the smell of food was kept away from him. Fíli had been surrounded by it for hours on end.

The dwarf king opened the next cask and helped Kíli to get out as well. Like his brother, Thorin’s youngest sister-son was only a little stiff. He stretched his arms and legs and then made a dash for the nearest bush to empty his bladder, shouting over his shoulder that he would be back in just a few moments to help out.

‘Thorin! I think I need your help!’ The voice of the hobbit prevented the dwarf from commenting on Kíli’s amusing behaviour.

He turned to see the hobbit standing next to an opened barrel with a slightly panicked expression on his face. He did not have a clue as to what was going on, but it had to be serious and that meant that it was his responsibility to deal with it.

But even though it was serious, he was a little surprised that Bilbo Baggins had called to him. Things had been rather tense between them, not in the last place because Thorin liked to keep some distance between them. Mr Baggins knew nothing of the world at all, nothing of sorrow and even less of loss. All he yearned for was his comfortable chair by the fire and his books, maps and six or seven meals a day. And those were such trivial and unimportant things to Thorin.

But he would have to admit that lately the burglar was starting to act like a burglar. The fact that he had managed to smuggle them all out of Thranduil’s dungeon was a fine example of that. And maybe he could go a little easier on the hobbit for that. And so he marched over to see what the matter was.

‘She doesn’t respond,’ the halfling informed him before he was even anywhere near him. He seemed rather flustered and very ill at ease. And Thorin also knew exactly who he was talking about. There was after all only one female in the company. ‘And there’s blood on her forehead as well.’

Thorin told himself that he should not react to that as violently as he did. But at the mention of Kate being apparently heavily injured he could feel his blood run cold and his stomach twisted in a tight knot. He should have known that she was far too fragile to endure such a perilous journey.

He all but ran the last few meters – he did not truly run, because that would indicate that he cared more than he ought to do – and knelt down next to the barrel to look into it. Kate was seemingly unconscious. Her eyes were closed and she gave no sign of realising what was going on around her. There was a bloody wound on her forehead. It must have happened quite a while ago, because the blood had already dried.

Thorin looked up at the burglar. ‘How long since you last checked on her?’ he demanded.

‘Last night,’ Bilbo replied immediately. ‘When I was making a round to see if everyone was there. She was fine then.’

That must mean it had happened on the river today. The raft had bumped against a few rocks on the way and Kate’s barrel had been the one to crash against it. The corresponding marks were on the cask. The advisor must have hit her head and passed out. And that was no good news by any means.

He made a quick decision. ‘Open as many casks as you can,’ he ordered the halfling. ‘I will get her out. Go. Send Óin when you find him.’ _And Mahal give that he is both conscious and capable of moving around on his own._

The burglar did not protest. Instead he moved away so fast that it was as if Thorin had been threatening to hurt him if he didn’t go to do his job this instant. Thorin himself reached inside and dragged the woman out. Kate still did not give any sign of life and that worried the dwarf king. The woman attracted trouble and injuries, he was starting to believe. She had gotten herself injured during the flight to Rivendell, had been whipped across the face in Goblin-town and had been badly injured during their last fight with Azog’s small army as well. And that was even leaving the blow to the head with the hilt of Galas’s sword out of his consideration. It worried him more than it should.

The advisor was soaked as well. The barrel had been badly damaged by its encounter with the rock and it had made a small hole it the wood. There was a considerable amount of river water inside. The advisor, her bag and the straw were all wet.

He took her up and carried her over to where Balin was still sitting. To think that of all their number it had of course to be the woman who got injured during the barrel escape. But this did worry him. Kate was pale and unmoving. Even that stupid unruly mass of hair of hers was lifeless now that the water was weighing it down, taking the curls from it. For some reason it felt like a bad thing.

Balin was trying to get to his feet, but a stern glare from Thorin stopped him before he could make good on his intention. ‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘She hit her head,’ Thorin reported. ‘I need you to stay with her until we have found Óin.’ As much as he may want to remain at Kate’s side, that was a stupid idea for more than one reason. He was still the leader of this company and as such it was his duty to see to all the members of his company. It would be wrong to remain with one that was already being seen to by another.

But there was also the element of not wanting to get any closer to the advisor than he already was. He could no longer trust his feelings around her and since nothing could ever come of those treacherous feelings, he would have to train himself to stay far away from the woman. It was the best and wisest thing to be doing. The conversation they would need to have soon would be hard enough already. There was no need to torment himself any further.

He got to his feet and made to march away. Fíli, Kíli and Mr Baggins had freed another few of his men, but Óin was not among them. And there were still quite a lot of barrels that needed opening. And even if they were opened it remained to be seen how well their occupants were. Dwalin was grumbling and trying – and failing – to get to his feet, but Bofur for once was not smiling, just lying on the ground, and the same was true for Glóin. This may be the only way of escape, but it had taken a heavy toll on all the members of his company.

So much for keeping them safe. He had sworn to Balin in the deeps of Goblin-town that he would try his hardest to keep each and every member of his company safe, but it seemed that he had not been very successful in his attempts to do so. Yes, they were free and they were alive, all but Bifur – and that loss still hurt – but this was not the manner in which he had hoped to arrive in Esgaroth. So far everything that could have gone wrong, had indeed gone wrong and that stung. It felt like a personal failure.

Again, he was called back by his oldest friend. ‘Thorin, come back.’ That tone of voice made the dwarf king feel like a lad all over again. And he had a fairly good idea what Balin was planning to do and say. He had been developing certain matchmaker skills over the last few months and that was the last thing he could use right now. He ought to have more important things on his mind.

‘Not this time,’ he told Balin. And not any time after this either. He recalled that before the Misty Mountains Kate had kept her distance to the company to prevent herself from becoming attached. He could do the same, although it was already too late to prevent anything. But he could contain the damage.

‘You care about her, laddie.’ Balin’s words stopped him dead in his tracks. He should have known better than to try and hide anything from him. As always, he could see right through him.

‘I cannot afford to,’ he replied. It was the truth, a harsh one, but a truth nonetheless. And he owed that to Balin. He could not lie to him.

‘Can’t or won’t?’ his friend asked sharply.

Thorin forced himself to turn around. ‘Both of those.’ His feet carried him back to the place where he was sitting and Kate was lying almost of their own volition. ‘Balin, nothing can come of it.’ He knew this was as good a confession of his feelings as any declaration. ‘This is the best way.’

‘You always were more stubborn than was good for you.’ Balin shook his head. ‘So is she. You would be well matched.’

‘It is not done,’ Thorin reminded him. And that would not change now. Kate had a world to go back to, a life to live, and he would not have a place in that. That was the way Gandalf had intended it to be. It was the way Kate herself would want it. Thorin had not forgotten how desperate she had been to return to her friends and family just a few weeks ago. Something like that did not fade in a matter of weeks, as Thorin understood all too well. The woman did not belong here and he could not belong in her world. It was plain and simple. ‘Her place is in her own world.’ And his was in Erebor. Never had he seen that more clearly as when he had seen what had become of his homeland just now. ‘Why, Balin?’ he asked in turn. ‘Why do you want this so much?’ Because that was one of the unexplained mysteries, something he should have asked about much earlier, he realised.

His friend smiled indulgently, like a parent might do. ‘You have always been alone, laddie. You deserve some happiness in your life. Our advisor might give it to you.’

Thorin was severely tempted to grimace. Happiness was not something that had been part of his life for many years. He could not afford to put his own before his people’s, especially not in exile, when they looked to him for strength. Happiness had become a luxury and it was not one that was for him. Maybe, after Erebor had been restored to its former glory, he would find rest and peace of mind, but it would not be with Kate. ‘I cannot afford to,’ he answered truthfully.

Balin shook his head, as if he did not believe a single word of what Thorin had said. ‘I may be old, Thorin, but I have not lost my wits.’ He almost seemed amused, if also a little exasperated. ‘The two of you would make it all so much easier on yourselves if you recognised what was right in front of you.’

He would have left Thorin to stew over those words for quite some time to come, Thorin knew. It was his habit to place some remark and then leave it up to his king to think about it. And Thorin would certainly have done exactly that, had Kate not stirred that moment.

 

***

 

It was becoming something of a habit to wake up with a head that felt like it had been hit with a sledgehammer, Kate observed as her consciousness started to return to her. But in this case it was of course not a sledgehammer, but her own barrel. Events were still a bit unclear, but the way she remembered, her cask had hit some rock at some point in time after they had left the place where the barrels had been gathered. It had been unexpected and Kate did not have the chance to brace herself, even if she could have done that in that cramped space, before her head had been thrown against the wood. And that had been no contest. These thing had been made to transport goods over a rather bumpy river and so they were strong and undeniably painful when one bumped one’s head against it.

She must have passed out after that. Well, at least she had missed the rest of that horrible journey, because now she was lying on some floor or other. The air was clean and did not smell like dirty cask. She had a lot more space to move as well and that was a very welcome change.

She tried to move, making her muscles protest.

That action alerted her to the fact that she was not alone, though. ‘Kate, are you awake?’ The advisor would have recognised that voice anywhere.

She cracked an eye open to find herself staring right at Thorin. ‘Nice to see you too,’ she commented. ‘Despite the fact that you keep insisting to ask the stupid questions. Of course I’m awake.’ Truth was that she was not very comfortable with him so close, but the bantering had worked for them before, to protect them both from fear or anger. Maybe it would do the job of protecting them from awkwardness as well.

And if she was really honest, she did not quite know what to do with that worry that she thought she had seen on his face. Thorin Oakenshield was not known to worry much. She had seen it only a few times, and then mostly for Fíli and Kíli. Kate was not comfortable with being on the receiving end of that concern.

He did crack a smile, even if it did not quite reach his eyes. ‘How are you feeling?’

Kate frowned. ‘Soaked, aching all over. My head’s bloody sore as well.’ The frown deepened. ‘But I thought you didn’t do fussing?’ All that stupid fussing of his seemed to suggest that he felt something for her as well and she knew that would not be the case. They had both been rather insistent that nothing was going on between them, even if Kate was no longer sure how true her own claims were. Things had been rather messed up since that kiss.

She still didn’t know what it was that kiss had actually done. She did not think it had made her fall for Thorin. Kate Andrews, practical woman that she was, did not believe in fairy tales about true love’s kiss and the like. It was more likely that the kiss had made her realise that Thorin did not repel her, nothing even close to it. It made her realise that they had grown closer over the past few months and that she was appreciating his company quite a bit more than she had thought. Moreover, that kiss had felt good. It was tender, sweet and perfect and those treacherous butterflies had already taken up residence in her stomach before she could even begin to stop them. It had felt like Thorin did care for her in a way that had often been suggested by their companions, but that Kate had never even contemplated to be true. She had not believed that she had felt about Thorin in such a way.

And she could not pinpoint when that had even happened. Yes, Thorin had become a closer friend than most of the friends she had in her own world, despite his difficult character. Kate simply blamed it on the events. No one could go through that and not end up bonding with the person who went through it with them. She had not realised that what they had was a bit more, a bit deeper than friendship until Thorin had pressed his lips against hers. That bloody kiss had burned away all the things she had been telling herself, leaving her to face a rather uncomfortable truth. She had done a stupid thing: she had fallen in love, despite her good intention of not doing so in Middle Earth. She had believed to reserve that for home. It had not worked out.

And it was even more painful because it was clearly one-sided. Kate had heard what Thranduil had said. _It would be extremely rare for a dwarf to marry a daughter of the race of Men. Unheard of. Especially for dwarf royalty_. And from what she herself had gathered and knew from Tolkien’s work was that dwarves were a secretive race, who did not like outsiders very much. At first they had only put up with her because Gandalf insisted. Naturally that had changed later, but still, she was an outsider. And as far as she was aware, not a single one dwarf had ever married someone that was not of their own race. Did that not tell her everything she needed to know?

 _This is not a fanfiction, girl. Not all stories have the happily ever after. Get used to it._ And because of that it would be best to keep direct contact to a minimum, at least until the awkwardness wore off and Thorin forgot that they still needed to have a conversation. Because that conversation would never happen if Kate had a say in the matter.

‘As your friend, I do believe I am allowed to be concerned,’ Thorin countered. Kate could not tell why, but for some reason it bugged her that he was using her tone and words.

‘Then as your friend I’m telling you to stop making such a fuss.’ Kate tried to keep her tone of voice light, but she had the impression it sounded more biting than she had intended. Keeping him at a distance would be difficult and Kate found herself wishing for that relatively uncomplicated friendship they had enjoyed in Mirkwood. There had been deeper feelings then as well, although that was only something she was able to recognise in hindsight, because they had been so well hidden. They had both believed that it had been only friendship. There was nothing more, they believed. And now she was longing for that time, that kind of friendship. Because that was something she could handle, something they both could handle.

There was an understanding in Thorin’s eyes. It was there for a moment and then his expression was carefully shaped back into that decisive leader expression he wore so well. At the beginning of the journey Kate had believed it to be his default setting. Now she suspected that it may simply be a mask he hid all his emotions behind. She wished she could do the same. ‘Can you stand?’

Kate gave herself a moment to work that out and eventually decided that she could. It would not be fun in any way, but she should be able to handle it. And she would hate to be seen as weak. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘Then walk with me,’ he said.

The advisor was not at all sure that was a good idea. There was a lingering suspicion that he wanted to have that conversation here and now and Kate was opposed to that for multiple reasons. The best thing would really be if someone came and deleted that kiss from both their memories, so that they could go on as before and focus on the bloody quest instead of on the mess of feelings.

But Thorin still was the king and she was technically under his command. So she nodded and used a nearby barrel to support her as she got to her feet. Thorin looked like he was going to offer her his hand, but refrained from it at the last possible moment. And that was a good thing. They would need to work out a new way to work with the other and since neither of them seemed particularly inclined to talk about it. It was too embarrassing, she supposed. Therefore it would be a matter of just learn by doing, see what worked and didn’t work and go from that. This was them trying to work something out already.

‘Sure,’ she said, trying and failing to make it sound nonchalant. She quickly turned to look at Balin to hide it. ‘Will you be all right here?’

The elderly dwarf did seem rather shaken by the whole ordeal and he wasn’t one of the youngest dwarves around anymore. Kate had seen him hide injury and pain before, but she knew how to look. It was undeniable that the barrel escape had not been too easy on him. It would be the same as putting her grandfather in such a barrel. And that was not something she wanted to think about now. Kate had successfully managed to keep every thought of her very ill, now possibly deceased, granddad locked away in the back of her mind for months, because it was just too painful to think about. It would not do to think of such matters now.

Balin made it a little easier by smiling encouragingly. ‘I’ll be fine, lass. Go.’ There was that expression on his face that told Kate a lot more than she wanted to know. It was almost as if he knew that there was more between them than she was ready to admit to anyone, not even to herself. And that was something she could really do without.

She just replied with a smile and something she hoped would pass as a warning look – although she was quite convinced it was more exasperated – and followed Thorin away from the company, most of whom were out of their barrels now. A few were on their feet, but most dwarves were still in the process of catching their breaths and stretching their muscles now that they had a chance to stretch them. Kate felt the need to do the same thing, but as company advisor she could not afford to waste time on that kind of thing. When she had made that oath to Thorin, she had also lost the right to indulge in such small luxuries, because of aforementioned oath, she should put her duties first. And she supposed that was true for personal feelings as well. _I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed_. That meant that the quest came first and everything else later.

 _So, stop wailing about wanting to stretch your muscles, Andrews_ , she reprimanded herself. _And get a bloody move on. And get a grip on your sodding feelings while you’re at it. The quest comes first now._

But that was something she knew with her head. Erebor had always been the final destination, had always been where they had to be going. But Kate had, she realised now, always been far more concerned with the present. There was always some kind of sticky situation they needed to get out of first. Thorin on the other hand was always more concentrating on the destination, his kingdom, his home. His mind was always on it, she imagined. For her it was more words. And she could not afford to do that any longer, not while they were so close to their goal.

‘What is it?’ she asked, before realising that this was not the wisest thing to be asking. If she wanted to be in control of this conversation, then she should take the lead. It might even allow her to keep some of the dignity she had lost by kissing him back so enthusiastically. ‘If this is about that…’ She hesitated. _Spit the word out, Andrews. It needs to be said_. ‘If this is about the kiss, then I think it’s best if we just forgot about it.’ There, she’d said it. ‘I think we both knew that was an act to fool the elves and to be quite frank, it’s quite ridiculous the way we’ve been behaving around each other because of it.’

Kate ignored the feeling that her heart was breaking with those words, instead opting on feeling proud of herself that she had managed to deliver the words without a tremor in her voice. She could handle this the adult way. She did not blunder her way through this like any fanfiction heroine would do. There were no tears, no dramatic scenes and heart-wrenching background music. This was business-like, determined and strong. Kate liked it. It reminded her of the old Kate, the aspiring journalist who could make the quick decisions and stick with them. And it was time to bring a little of her old self back, because at the moment she wasn’t sure she liked the new version of herself.

For a moment she thought she saw something on Thorin’s face, but it was gone before she could even begin to make heads or tails of it. The mask had slipped, but it was back in place within the second. As frustrating as that was, it was probably for the better. She did not really want to know what he thought about this matter. It was better for her peace of mind.

He gave a curt nod. ‘Good.’

Part of Kate was relieved that he seemed to understand how this worked. It was just that a bigger part of her was somewhat disappointed. But then, Thorin Oakenshield was not known for concerning himself with trivial things like sentimentality. And this was not a story, nowhere near it, not in real life anyway. And if it was a story, then it was not a romantic one. Tolkien wasn’t known for writing a lot of romance after all.

‘Good,’ she echoed. ‘Then can we please stop with this awkward business and go on as we did before? You know, I quite miss those idiotic questions of yours.’ The attempt at humour was feeble and utterly failing because of the underlying pleading tone. Romance was out of the question for the obvious reasons, but Kate missed the friendship and she would hate to lose it over something as ridiculous as this, just because she had been unable to keep control of her own heart. She knew she would lose it within the next few months anyway, when she would inevitably return home, but she could enjoy it while it lasted. Her heart would be broken either way.

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her. ‘The blow to the head must have addled your memory,’ he informed her. ‘I believe you accused me of asking you a stupid question not ten minutes ago.’

Thank goodness that he had picked up on this. He realised what it was she was asking and he was complying. It was a relief, she would admit. And so she ignored her heart – it would be no good to let that rule her head anyway – and went with the banter, simply choosing to be grateful that that part of their friendship had not gotten lost.

‘Well, you used to do it more frequently,’ she felt obliged to point out, even if she was sure that he had not truly insulted her. That he had not done for quite some time, she now realised, and the shouting at one another seemed to have ceased to have happened altogether. She kept her voice light, even if her feelings were quickly descending into chaos. On one hand she felt like doing a happy dance around the Long Lake for not having lost Thorin’s friendship, but an equally big part of Kate Andrews felt like crying, felt like as if she had lost something precious, even though she had never had it in the first place.

 _Why does life have to be so bloody complicated all the time?_ She had never meant for any of this to have happened, had never planned that she was going to Middle Earth in the first place. Kate had been content with her life the way it was until a certain wizard had not as much as nudged, but more like dragged her out of her door to go on some adventure that was supposed to be happening only in a famous novel. Neither had it been planned that she would end up befriending members of that company, quite against her own will as well. That was the kind of thing that was meant to happen in fanfiction only. And what she had certainly never planned for was to fall in love with Thorin Oakenshield, because that was the kind of thing reserved for those same fanfictions. Besides, she hadn’t been intending to fall in love with anyone at all. That would only complicate things, because when this quest was done, she’d go home and she’d never see any of them again. It was as it should be. What had happened to her was nothing as it should be.

‘I was under the impression you did not like it,’ Thorin pointed out.

Kate arched an eyebrow, at the moment eager to keep the banter up as long as she possibly could. ‘And you actually listened to me?’ she inquired with mock incredulity.

Thorin did not smile or let her know that he in any way was amused by what she had said. His expression had morphed back into that mask that she found ridiculously hard to read. ‘You are the company advisor,’ he reminded her.

‘So it says in my contract,’ Kate shot back. _And so it says in my oath as well_. Of course it had to be that very oath, in fact both of the oaths she had made, that prevented her from distancing herself from the dwarf king, which was less than welcome news to her now.

‘The men of Esgaroth,’ Thorin began. ‘I cannot say if they will welcome us.’

Kate frowned. ‘The book says they will,’ she said. Of course she should be the first to acknowledge the fact that the book was not always right, that, in fact, it was rather unpredictable. It had gotten the entire confrontation with Thranduil wrong, it had not made mention of either Galas or Elvaethor, although the last one was referred to as captain of the guard. The book never mentioned Azog either. Well, it did, but in the book that Defiler had been long dead. Things could, often would, differ from Tolkien’s writings and Thorin would indeed be right to be cautious, because the people of Lake-town had excellent trade relations with the Mirkwood elves and Kate knew from her own world that people would do strange things when they believed their beloved economy to be in danger. And in danger it might be if the people of the Long Lake did something that Thranduil was bound not to like.

Still, there might be trouble looming, but this was something she could actually deal with. This was her area of expertise and it was decidedly a lot less risky than the matters of the heart, that should not even come anywhere near this quest.

‘You know that the book is not always reliable,’ Thorin said. It almost sounded as if he was reprimanding her.

‘Are you asking me what I think we should do?’ Kate asked.

The dwarf did not bother with a reply. Kate had come to see that it was a particular habit of his. His silence obviously meant yes, but if he said that out loud, it would sound as if he would not be able to make his own decisions, that he was dependent on others. So he left it to her to piece it together, so that at least he could truthfully deny having asked such a thing in the first place if he was ever asked about it. Kate would have to admit that it was not such a stupid idea at all.

She decided to comply with the unspoken request. ‘Knock on the bloody door, see where that leads.’ She shrugged. ‘We can’t hang around here all day or we’ll all catch our deaths.’ Even if the men of Lake-town were more willing to cooperate with elves than with dwarves, choosing a steady economy over the prospect of untold riches – as they well might – then that still didn’t mean they would end up in Thranduil’s dungeons again, because Kate was quite sure that not a single member of their company would go down without a fight. Besides, it wasn’t as if there were a whole lot of other options available. They had no supplies, no dry clothes and all of them were wet and hungry. They needed to go somewhere. Lake-town was the only town in the neighbourhood. And the book stated they would find help there. Just this once, she hoped it was right.

Thorin nodded, as if this confirmed what he himself had been thinking. That was strange in and out of itself. Since when did he want her reassurance? ‘You will pose again as my wife,’ he told Kate brusquely.

The nerves returned with a vengeance. ‘Must we do that again?’ She knew full well she sounded like a whining child, but she could not care less. Keeping up that pretence marriage would mean shared quarters and that might bring back that awkwardness she had been trying to dispel. ‘This whole we’re-married-business is starting to look habit-forming.’

Thorin fixed her with the glare she had not seen directed at her person for quite some time. ‘The elves will surely follow us here. We cannot be seen to have lied or the people will turn against us.’

Unfortunately that sounded far too logical. They did still have a good chance of getting a reception in book-style, but the people might not like them quite so much if they found out this company had not been honest with them. People could change their minds faster than one could say Erebor and public opinion was a very tricky thing. The last thing they needed was for the men of Lake-town to turn on them, especially not when the company was dependent on their help. And that of course was leaving the fact that Kate was a woman and as such could apparently not be seen to travel alone out of consideration. There really was not much choice at all.

It didn’t mean she had to like it, although she now disliked it for entirely different reasons than she had before. ‘Fine,’ she snapped, sending an equally annoyed glare Thorin’s way. ‘Have it your way. Just don’t try anything.’ Translation: don’t try anything like that kiss again. ‘Or you’ll be singing soprano for the next couple of decades.’

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Her words should not hurt me as they do, but I cannot deny that they pain me worse than any sword, Mahal help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I’m back again, which means regular updates from now on again if all goes well. I do have some bad news, because I realised I may have taken on too much by trying to juggle four stories at the same time. This means that Duly Noted will not get a regular update scheme for the next couple of months. It’s not abandoned, but my focus for now is on the three on-going stories. As soon as Operation Wandless is finished, around November probably, it will be picked up again. Until then there will be the occasional update, but not much.  
> Anyway, Thorin and Kate’s conversation did probably not turn out the way you wanted to, so I hope you won’t come at me with pitchforks and the like. Next time: entering Lake-town proves to be something rather difficult. Until then, review?  
> Till Wednesday!


	52. Welcome

_When I was still a young girl I made a nasty fall one time and broke my leg. And let me tell you, I wasn’t the kind of child to sit still all day. Yes, it is one of those traits I seem to have passed on to most of you as well. My mother made me sit on the couch all day and tried to keep me entertained to keep me from climbing off aforementioned couch. Had I done so, I might have ruined all the healing that had already happened. But I was only seven or eight years old and that did not mean terribly much to me._

_‘You’re your own worst enemy, Catherine,’ my mother told me then. She told me many times after that as well whenever I was doing something she would label self-destructive. I was rather reckless as a young girl after all and Jacko and I got ourselves into more than one tight spot._

_What I had never thought to be doing was to apply the you’re-your-own-worst-enemy thing to my relationship with your father, but in hindsight it fitted our situation perfectly. Looking back on it now, I realise we could have saved ourselves quite a bit of time if we had been honest with one another then and to you it must be strange and maybe even frustrating that we seemed so eager to make a mess of things._

_But I think that is rather easy for you to say. You have always been used to your father and me being together, because you never knew anything else. Of course you know of people like Lady Nai, who is rather opposed to me as Queen under the Mountain, but we always made fun of her and her rants. We did not take her seriously, because  by the time you understood what she was saying, she was only one of a few people who still held on to such beliefs._

_Things were quite different during the quest. The very thought of a dwarf marrying someone of another race was quite unheard of. The only thing that may have shocked people more was if Thorin had married an elf. Relationships like that had never been known before we threw all tradition right out of Erebor’s main gate by marrying and we were still not even aware that we were going to marry at some point in the future, because neither of us thought it was possible. Neither of us even believed that the other felt the same way._

_And apart from the taboo – because I think that is what it can be called – on marriages between individuals of a different race, there was the massive issue of my leaving after the quest had been completed, provided we’d be successful in the first place. I believed I did not belong in Middle Earth, which was motivation enough to try and keep my distance and the same was true for Thorin._

_I think for me that was one of the biggest issues, because racial prejudice and customs didn’t really mean anything to me then. I believed that a relationship between Thorin and me could never work out, because Thorin could, being who he was, obviously not leave Middle Earth and I had a whole life and loved ones I needed to go back to. No, it would take some very intense events to change that and that day on the shores of the Long Lake, they were all still in the future and we were our own worst enemies…_

 

The day was wearing on and by the time each and every member of the company had climbed out of the barrels that had transported them out of Mirkwood, the sun was close to sinking behind the dark trees of Thranduil’s forest. Not one single one of Thorin’s men had particularly enjoyed the escape, but most of them were already back on their feet after an extensive stretching routine. The small strand they were on was hidden from view by a few walls without windows in them, so even when they were close to the town, its people had not yet noticed them.

They would soon enough, because they could not remain here for much longer. Like Kate had said, they would catch their deaths if they remained on this small patch of strand. Some of them were in need of some medical attention and practically all of them were in need of food and a hot bath, not necessarily in that order. Thorin was usually not the kind of dwarf to worry very much over things like taking regular baths, unless Dís bullied him into it, but now he felt the need to wash, if only to remove the elvish stench from his person.

‘We need to move out,’ he told his company. He could see already that not everyone would be able to. Bombur seemed to have it particularly bad. He was barely moving and from what Thorin had gathered from his brother, Bombur’s barrel had been rather bumped about during the journey and he had hit his head an alarming amount of time. And there were a few more who shared that kind of problem. He would have to go with Kate’s book and take a small company to ask for entrance to Esgaroth.

Fíli and Kíli would need to come with him. They were capable of standing on their own two feet and they could move around of their own volition. They were family too. And it might come across as strange if he left them behind, even if only to look after the others. And if Kate was to pass as his wife, she would need to come as well.

He had tried to hide his… disappointment when she had so casually ended what little hope had been growing in his heart in spite of his good intentions not to cherish any hope on the matter. Kate had called it ridiculous on more than one occasion. The scathing way in which she had referred to the idea of the two of them being together should have told him all he needed to know, but did not want to know.

Still, the words hurt. _If this is about the kiss, then I think it’s best if we just forgot about it. I think we both knew that was an act to fool the elves and to be quite frank, it’s quite ridiculous the way we’ve been behaving around each other because of it._ It had been business-like, dismissive and annoyed. It had not held one ounce of affection. She liked being friends, the bantering proved that, but she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in being anything more to him. If he had any doubts about the subject, those words had cured him of them.

He should have known it too. Mahal knew how much she missed her home. In Beorn’s house he had, accidentally mind, seen some letters addressed to her brother, letters that could never be sent. What they did do was to drive the message home how much she missed the world she came from. She _wanted_ to return.

And it was as it should be. She would go back to her own world, he would remain here and that would be the end of it. That had been the way Gandalf had always intended for it to be and that was how it should be. And he had a quest to focus on, so he would need to keep his feelings to himself and press on regardless.

‘Fíli, Kíli, Kate!’ he called. ‘With me.’

His sister-sons had been helping Dwalin to make some kind of shelter which they could lay Bombur and, to Thorin’s surprise, Nori in, while Kate sat with Balin. They were deep in conversation and the dwarf could only hope that his friend kept his knowledge about Thorin’s state of heart to himself.

All three of them leaped up when they heard their names being called. Thorin knew he had used his commander voice, the kind of voice people for some reason found hard to disobey, even if its effect was lost on Kate and Thranduil, to his shame. Kate though complied with a sardonic smile. ‘Oh, you’re back to normal, I see,’ she commented. ‘Giving orders and all that.’

It was the teasing as he’d known it before. It was familiar and reassuring in a certain way, but it also meant that that other thing would never happen and the banter for Thorin only served to remind him of that altogether painful fact. And it therefore was all the more difficult to repay her in her own coin. ‘I thought you might like it better than the fussing,’ he countered.

‘I do,’ she admitted. ‘But not an awful lot, you know. So, what’s the plan?’

‘I believe you said that we might best “knock on the bloody door, see where that leads,”’ he reminded her. He tried to make it sound teasing, but he found he sounded icy and forbidding, cold. He knew what it was caused by, and he could not let that affect the way he acted. He may never have what he had been hoping for, but he would not want to lose the friendship any sooner than he really had to. Hopefully Kate would just put it down to their recent ordeal. None of them were at their best behaviour now.

She had heard it of course, and grimaced at the tone of voice. ‘I know what I said. I just didn’t really expect you to listen to any of it.’

The advisor may have a point with that accusation, although it was not something the dwarf king very much liked to be reminded of. He remembered all too well that he had never listened to her advice much when he was in such a mood. He never listened to anybody then. But he had listened to her the last few months, even when he had not really wanted to. Although he was not sure how much of it was listening and how much of it really was only the two of them being of the same mind. The only thing he regretted now was that they could not truly be of the same mind when it came to where the two of them were standing.

He kept his silence. Maybe she had been expecting a witty retort, but Thorin was not in the mood for witticisms. The rejection hurt too much and he was short-tempered and grumpy as a result. And this all tied in with their current situation of being wet, hungry and exhausted. Silence would be more dignified now.

Kate did not seem to realise that. It was almost as if she was trying to fill the air with words to keep the silence Thorin found himself craving for at bay. Maybe she still found it awkward even after they had that kind of conversation. Thorin could not tell.

But at least she was talking to his sister-sons now, which meant that he had the time to force himself to think of more serious matters. He knew the book, knew that he was supposed to make a rather dramatic entrance, but he could not for the life of him see himself do that. There seemed to be a world of differences between him and the dwarf the book seemed to think he was supposed to be. And maybe that proved Kate’s claim that not everything needed to go as the book told them to. They had some freedom to choose their own paths, although the choices were limited, as he had learned when they had found themselves captured by the elves.

But at least the book had been clear about one thing: the Mountain would be reclaimed and that filled the dwarf king’s heart with some hope. And hope was needed, because the very sight of Erebor had discouraged him. It breathed desolation and death. So many things had been destroyed by the dragon. The area around the Mountain now only served to put his destructive skills on display, making Thorin worry about what would happen when eventually they would face the dragon.

Because they would face Smaug. This would _not_ be like in the book the woman still carried around. Whether or not this town would offer them hospitality, its inhabitants would not deserve the wrath of the firedrake. Too much death and destruction had been dealt by Smaug and Thorin would not allow it to happen that he could deal any more, not on his watch. Essentially this was a feud that had been passed down to him by his father and grandfather. If anyone should put an end to the fiery threat that dragon posed, it should be Thorin, not some man from this town, no matter how impressive his skills with a bow.

But they needed to find help first. His men needed food and a place to sleep. Thorin himself did not feel like resting yet – he had slept a few hours in the place where the barrels had been gathered and could do without sleep for much longer than that – but Balin for example would need some place to rest his head.

Darkness was falling quickly now. The summer had well and truly gone while they had been kept occupied in Mirkwood and now winter was already approaching. The days grew ever shorter and the chill was in the air during the days now as well as the nights. It would not be long until the frost would freeze the earth at night.

The gate of Esgaroth had already been closed. Thorin could hear voices behind it though. There were people there and they would hear him when he knocked on the gate. And he did feel nervous about doing this. Even the book stated that there were ties of friendship between the people of this town and the Woodland Realm. The book had also stated that the Master of Esgaroth was none too eager to let in the people he feared might spoil his relation with aforementioned realm. He had to hope that the people here truly did long for the return or the King under the Mountain, or their adventure might just end here.

He turned to Kate, settling for banter in the face of the uncertain future. ‘If this turns out badly and they’ll kill us, Mahal help me, I’ll revive you and kill you again.’

Kate had fallen silent some while ago, but this brought the smile back to her face. It even touched her eyes. ‘Stop stealing my lines,’ she growled playfully, nudging him.

Thorin did not think that worthy of a reply. ‘Stay at my side,’ he told her. It would not make things easier, but they needed to. Thorin had meant what he had said: it would be suspicious if they did not act like a couple now, while they had been doing that for the duration of the quest. And they could do it. They had little choice. And personal feelings had always taken a backseat on this quest. For both of them the quest was the most important thing – for Thorin because it would give his people back his home and for Kate because she had sworn to it – and everything else had to come after that.

‘I wasn’t going anywhere,’ the advisor said wryly. ‘Although I might reconsider if you insist on making a dramatic book style entrance.’

He had not been planning on it. The book version of him was arrogant, unpredictable and haughty. _Sounds like you_ , Kate would probably say, but it would be meant as teasing. Thorin knew he was nothing like that. Yes, he was a proud person, but that was not a crime. The rest of the things written about him was only accurate to a certain extent.

The dwarf took a deep breath and knocked on the gate. Waiting would not do him any favours. It would make it look like he was hesitating and that was something he could not afford now. He was the leader of this company and it was his task to make sure they would be looked after.

The talking behind the wooden gate fell silent. Thorin knocked again to make quite sure that they did not fool themselves into believing they had imagined the first knock, that must have been barely audible over the noise of their talk and laughter. The last thing he wanted was to be left outside this gate.

‘Who’s there?’ came a voice.

‘The Minister of Infrastructure to inquire why the roads around here are so terribly bad,’ Kate muttered sarcastically. Fíli and Kíli quite unsuccessfully tried to mask their laughter as a coughing fit.

‘Open the gate,’ Thorin commanded. He may have decided against entering this city as the proud and haughty king the book described him as, but he was not entering like a beggar either. He was the rightful King under the Mountain and he would be treated as such. He had been a beggar on the road for far too long. He was not sure if he could handle that so close to his ancestral home.

The gate did open, but they were met by a group of guards with weapons. Thorin had thought it best to leave his weapons with the company for the time being, but that was a decision he was now in danger of regretting. He had not been expecting to be received with enthusiasm, but he would have to admit that he had been hoping for something better than this.

The man who looked like he was the local captain of the guards, narrowed his eyes at them. ‘Who are you, dwarf?’ The tone was nowhere even near friendly.

‘My name is Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King under the Mountain.’ Thorin despised the height difference. These men towered over him and it was not a very pleasant feeling. ‘I have returned.’ And he had. It was only now that he said it, that he realised he was closer to home than he had been in more than hundred and fifty years. Home may have changed, and it was still inhabited by the dragon Smaug, but he was nearer by than since the Mountain had fallen. Almost there, and still so far away.

The man who stood next to the captain dropped both his spear and his jaw when he heard that. ‘Impossible,’ he whispered.

‘Not impossible,’ Thorin contradicted. Most of the men had been giving off signs of what appeared to be shock the moment they had learned of his identity. He did not think his name would have made much of an impression – he had still been young and inexperienced when Erebor was sacked and Dale destroyed – but they would remember the name of the last King under the Mountain. And on that his hope was built.

Because no one would be alive today who remembered. The lifespan of these people was short and for them many generations had passed since Thrór’s day. He had very little with what he could prove his identity, should it come down to that. Yes, he bore a likeness to his father and grandfather, but that would not convince anyone in this town, for they would not remember him. All he had was himself, the map and the key and those last two were still hidden on Kate’s person as far as he was aware. That might even prove to be the greatest flaw in his plan, he now realised. It had been too long and no one in this area remembered him and the old days anymore. It made him feel sad at heart, but mostly it made him just feel old.

The captain of the guards was clearly not convinced yet. ‘Name your companions.’ If he had believed Thorin’s words, then it was likely he would have been politer. But this was still just a command and Thorin was clearly on the receiving end of it, something he did not particularly like.

But for the time being it would not do to refuse to answer the question. He could not afford to be cast out. _Swallow your pride_ , he told himself. _The quest depends on you_. It was a heavy burden, but one he had taken up willingly. He had sworn to himself that he would always let the quest take precedence. If that meant that he would enter this town like a beggar, then maybe he would need to let that happen. If all went well, he would prove soon enough that he was who he had claimed to be.

‘Fíli and Kíli,’ he replied curtly, unable to hide his indignity at being talked to like he was worth nothing entirely. ‘My sister-sons. And this is Catherine, daughter of John, my wife.’ He took Kate’s hand to emphasise the point.

That made a few more jaws drop. Thorin knew that it was unusual for a dwarf to marry a woman of the race of Men; it had been one of his main concerns where it came to Kate these last few days. But it was the story they had more or less agreed on, and people had assumed it since Rivendell. It would be foolish not to use it, even now it was almost too painful to keep up after Kate’s rejection, even if it had not been said in so many words.

‘Lay down your arms!’ was the next command that was hurled their way.

Thorin could feel Kate’s grip on his arms tighten, a tell-tale sign that she was either scared or close to losing her temper. Thorin would bet all the gold in Erebor on the latter. And he was proven right. ‘You are either blind or stupid if you cannot see that we came with none. We have an urgent need to speak to the Master of this town. It is a matter of life and death.’

She had spent too much time around him, Thorin pondered. She was sounding like him. For a moment he did not see an advisor, still full of youthful temperament and naïve views on the world, but he saw a queen. He had seen glimpses of the leader in her before, but it had never been very obvious and if it was obvious, it never lasted long. But he saw it clearly now and at the same time he saw everything that could never be.

The captain of the guards looked down at them dismissively, something that vexed Thorin to no end. Normally he did not have a problem with being who he was, but in his dealings with elves it would not hurt anyone if he was but a foot taller. It would prevent him getting stared down at. ‘The Master is at a feast,’ the guard informed him, clearly having no intention of taking them anywhere near this Master. He had not bought their story, true though it may be. A cautious man he was and there was not much wrong with that, except in cases like this.

‘Then you’d better take us to him.’ This was said by Fíli. Thorin’s sister-sons too seemed to have become increasingly annoyed by the less than cooperating attitude of the town’s guards. Time was wearing on and their companions were still out there, waiting for them to gain access to this town and get the much needed help some of them needed. Balin sprang to mind and Bombur as well. Thorin had to remind himself that bashing a few of those ignorant heads together was not likely to help his case, but Mahal, was he tempted to!

‘I will not disturb him tonight.’ The captain of the guards looked alarmingly determined to stand by that. ‘You may come back in the morning.’

This time it was Kíli’s temper that snapped. ‘We have sick companions down by the shores of the Long Lake,’ he growled in a manner that reminded Thorin a lot of himself. He felt a pang of regret that it had been necessary for his youngest sister-son to grow up too soon. He had accused him of knowing nothing of the world several months ago, but now he feared Kíli may know far more about the world than Thorin would have wished for him.

A flicker of unease crossed the captain’s face. ‘I need to talk to someone,’ he said. Apparently he was a half decent man at least if he felt uncomfortable about leaving sick people out in the cold, as he should.

‘Then do it quickly,’ Thorin said. This was not going quite according to the book and it worried him. In Kate’s book the guards had hindered them some, but eventually the captain had agreed to take them to the Master and after that it was the town’s people enthusiasm that swung the odds in their favour. That was not happening now.

The captain walked back to the hut they had previously been sitting in and most of his men followed him, leaving only two of them to make sure that the dwarves did not go anywhere they were not supposed to go.

‘They won’t let us in,’ Fíli muttered under his breath. There was a worried frown on his face that reminded Thorin only too much of the expression he himself often wore. His sister-sons had grown up too fast and now they were turning into him. Thorin’s hands clenched into fists, momentarily forgetting that he still held Kate’s hand in one of his.

‘Ouch,’ she hissed. ‘Let go, you big oaf!’

He did as she asked. ‘The book is wrong,’ he told her. The worry turned his voice cold and harsh.

And Kate sensed that, so she sent him a perfect glare. ‘I told you not to take it as gospel,’ she shot back. She kept her voice down as to not let the guards listen in to the conversation that was surely not meant for  their ears. ‘But did you bloody well listen? Of course not! Because you are Thorin bloody Oakenshield and you don’t listen to anyone.’

This was more and more turning into a fight, of the kind they had on the west side of the Misty Mountains and that was not a thought Thorin liked. He had believed that they were past that. ‘So, if I were to listen to you now, what then would you suggest?’ he challenged her. He knew his advisor well enough to know that she could not bring herself to turn down one when it was put to her.

And she did not disappoint. For a moment she just glared at him, but then the corners of her mouth curled up. ‘I’d suggest that we help the book come true,’ she replied. The glare was gone in favour of a twinkle in her eyes. ‘How do you think these gentlemen feel about a damsel in distress?’

Thorin was about to ask what she meant by that when Kate Andrews answered that question by dropping to the ground in an altogether far too convincing faint.

 

***

 

Kate leaned back into the bath tub, letting the hot water relax her muscles. She had trouble even remembering when the last time was that she had been clean, really clean, but she had a lingering suspicion that the last time she had washed properly was at Beorn’s house, and any proper bath she may have taken predated the trip through the Misty Mountains, because that quick swim in the Anduin did not really count as a proper bath in her opinion. It had been cold and freezing and she had been all too glad to get out of the icy water first chance she got. This bath was of a different nature altogether.

And then to think that it had almost not happened. The guards at the gate had looked pretty forbidding, not at all as if they were very willing to permit them admittance to the town. Their captain clearly did not believe a single word Thorin had said and had not made a secret out of it. That had worried Kate more than she actually liked to admit to her companions. And she was already on edge. She was exhausted, hungry and thirsty. Add to that that disastrous conversation with Thorin just before and she had not felt like being polite to anyone, least of all the dwarf king who had currently been demonstrating his best I-am-the-king-and-I-am-the-king-with-the-worst-temper-in-Middle-Earth-behaviour that used to drive Kate up the wall – or trees in absence of walls – before Mirkwood. She had glared and snarled at him, but of course he had distracted her by putting a challenge to her, and it had been one she found herself incapable of turning down, as he would have known in advance, the sly bastard.

At least this – the fighting and the strange banter from before that – meant that things had gone back to normal and for that she was grateful. The awkwardness had disappeared, almost instantly, the moment they had a mission to focus on, a quest to complete. And Kate would not deny that it helped her in burying all those treacherous things she did not want to feel. They were allies again and everything was as it should be. And they had a mission, a mission to get into that town to get the help some of their companions desperately needed. Balin may put on a brave face, but it was rather obvious that he would have great difficulty walking and Bombur had been a ball of misery when she had last seen him. And here they were at the gate of Lake-town, facing a bunch of guards that looked altogether forbidding, not nice at all.

 _So, Andrews, feet on the ground, head out of the clouds_ , she ordered herself. _Think!_

At first she had turned to the book for inspiration, but that did not yield a lot of possibilities. They had tried it the book way and that had not worked. The movie covering this part of the journey had not yet been released, so she should not look for answers there either. No, they would have to rely on their own wits in this case.

Kate looked at the captain’s retreating back. He seemed to have nerves of steel, but he had looked more or less concerned when Kíli had mentioned the presence of sick companions. And then the idea hit her. If that man felt conflicted about shutting out sick people, then maybe she could give him an extra reminder of how cruel it would be to turn them away. And if her experience with male individuals around here was anything to go by, then they did not feel comfortable about mistreating a woman. Even the elves, not Kate’s biggest friends, had not been as cruel as to leave her wounds untreated as they had done her companions. And normally she hated the whole special treatment that seemed to apply to women, but she might just turn it to their advantage.

 _Yeah, and next thing you know you’re going down in Erebor history as Catherine the Cunning_. It did have a rather nice ring to it and at any rate it sounded better than Kate the Clumsy or Miss Andrews the Stubborn. _You’re rambling, get going_. And so she did as the plan began to take shape in her head.

‘I’d suggest that we help the book come true,’ she suggested to Thorin. That captain had not at all been all right with the idea of sick people out there in the cold, but they were far away, not within his line of sight and eventually he may find it easy to ignore that fact and turn them away regardless. He might find that harder when a sick person, and a woman at that, was right in front of him. ‘How do you think these gentlemen feel about a damsel in distress?’ she added when Thorin’s gaze betrayed nothing but utter confusion. He had not yet guessed her plan.

But he would soon enough, because Kate let her eyes fall shut and then let herself crash to the ground, hoping and praying that Thorin’s battle reflexes would prevent her from acquainting her head with the floor. As far as she was concerned, her head had been hurt quite enough for one day. She was sure the lump on her forehead did not look too pretty – _what’s new?_ – and it ached too. She did not at all feel like gaining another. Maybe she ought to have warned him beforehand, but she hoped for a more genuine reaction now that she hadn’t.

And she got one. ‘Kate!’ Thorin was so shocked that he forgot to use her full name, the idiot, but at least he grabbed her before she had fallen entirely and for that she was very grateful. He lifted her off the floor. ‘Kate, wake up!’

He did know that this was all an act, didn’t he? The advisor would have frowned if she had not been so certain that that would blow her cover spectacularly. Sometimes it was so bloody hard to figure out what Thorin Oakenshield was really feeling and what was just an act. He was a difficult person to read and it had been like that in Mirkwood as well. Their whole relationship had been nothing but pretence to him and yet Kate could not have told it from his behaviour. This might just be the same.

She had to keep her eyes closed and stay completely still, so she could not see a thing, but she certainly heard the voice of the captain as he rushed back outside. ‘What happened?’ He sounded like he was in shock.

‘My wife has passed out from exhaustion,’ Thorin informed him coolly. Kate knew that tone of voice. Ten to one that Mr Captain found himself on the receiving end of the dwarf king’s most freezing glare. ‘Now, will you take us to see your Master? My wife needs a place to rest or would you have her sleep in the cold tonight?’ He certainly did know how to turn this situation to his advantage. Kate had known that he would, which was why she had gone with this. _Catherine the Cunning indeed. Gandalf would be proud of you, girl._

‘Of course.’ The captain did appear shocked indeed now he was faced with a damsel in distress and it took a lot of self-restraint for Kate not to smirk. But it did feel good to for once have a plan of her own, not inspired by any book, that actually did work out. She had come to seriously doubt her ability to change anything, but this restored some of her faith. ‘Follow me then.’

Thorin started to move, so Kate figured he had complied with the order – because that was what it was – without question, although another freezing glare was not outside the range of possibilities. She kept lying still, but it was hard. She hated to not being able to see where she was going and the walking movement made her feel a little seasick.

She ignored that other part of her that felt a little too well with the dwarf so close. _No fanfiction_ , she reminded herself. And being near Thorin should not feel as good as it did, not that secure. Some stupid irrational part of her found that it felt like safety and home, even when she was cold, sporting a wound and a headache and was wearing clothes that had by no means dried well. And so she told herself to get a grip, again, and remain still until they arrived where they should be arriving. She only hoped they would be there soon, because the air was chilly and she was starting to feel cold. As long as she had been moving around, it had been doable, but now that she was lying still the cold crept in.

‘Do something that unexpected again and I’ll kill you myself,’ Thorin hissed at her at a certain point in time. It didn’t take an expert to find out that he was really startled by what she had done. She had given him a real fright, it would seem.

‘You’re welcome,’ she whispered back sarcastically. ‘For getting you into the town, you know.’ Thanking people was not something he often did. Kate was not even sure if he had the word in his dictionary at times, but it didn’t make the habit any less annoying. Honestly, how hard could it be?

Thorin didn’t reply, which probably meant that he could not have said anything without giving away that she was not as unconscious as she pretended to be. Had he had the opportunity, he would have used it to tell her exactly what he thought of the answer she had given him. It was his way, or at least it had been his way before they had become allies and currently it seemed that their relationship was in acute danger of turning back into the relationship pre-Rivendell and that was something Kate did not particularly like at all. And somehow it had something to do with the kiss, the following awkwardness and both their annoyance with said awkwardness. Or at least, that was what she suspected that Thorin’s motivation was. She knew that her own reasons for acting as she did might be a tad bit more complicated and had everything to do with something she stubbornly refused to refer to as heartache.

They entered a building. Kate could feel it. It was definitely warmer in here, wherever that here was, than it had been outside and that was a welcome change from the chilly weather outside. She could hear loud voices as well. They were laughing and talking at a volume that suggested they’d like the people in Rohan and Gondor to hear their conversations as well.

‘Wake up,’ Thorin hissed at her. ‘Before we enter the hall.’

It would doubtlessly spoil the effect of his entrance somewhat if he were to carry her in, so maybe now was the best time to stop playing unconscious and return to the waking world. That sounded like a good idea to her anyway, because pretending to be out cold was starting to vex her. She had to keep her eyes closed and had to rely on her other senses to find out what was happening around her. And that was not something Kate Andrews particularly liked.

So she made a show of cracking one eye open, blinking against the light. ‘Oh,’ she moaned. ‘What happened?’

‘Thank Mahal, you’re awake!’ Kíli seemed genuinely relieved and the advisor realised he had not understood that it had all been an act and nothing more. His brother had caught on and sent his younger sibling an eye roll that might tell Kíli all he needed to know.

‘You passed out,’ Thorin informed her in what was probably supposed to pass as a soothing tone of voice. ‘How do you feel?’

‘I’m fine,’ Kate replied. She wasn’t, but she was not going to look like the whining spoiled little girl here by listing her complaints. She was supposed to pass as royalty here and it was not very dignified for royalty to behave like children. Of course that had not stopped several kings and emperors from her world from doing exactly that. ‘Just help me to my feet?’

Kate did feel a little crowded with all three dwarves around her, one of them only just realising that he had been acting like a fool for believing that she had truly fainted. Behind them she also discovered the captain of the guard and some of his men.

‘Are you well, my lady?’ Poor man, she must have frightened him badly. But then she remembered that he had been about to shut them out at night and her sympathy for him and his problems vanished. He might deserve the scare, it served him right.

Kate nodded, trying copy Thorin’s most grumpy attitude. ‘I am well,’ she said. The whole delicate female tactic had worked out. That had to be a first that she used it deliberately. Normally she hated the bloody fussing and she was sure she would hate it again before this quest was over. For now it was an attitude that might just get them invited into this town.

Thorin and Fíli helped her to her feet. It was good to be on the inside again. Thranduil’s dungeons had not been very warm and the barrel-ride had been horrible and cold. Here the fires were burning. The warmth slowly seeped through her damp clothes and made her feel a bit more comfortable that she had been, if not much. She felt dirty and hungry still. She’d probably kill for the chance to have a bath.

‘I’ll take you to the Master now.’ The captain was still looking at her nervously, as if she could faint any second. Kate changed her mind on the opinion that for now she was okay with the fussing if that had to be their way into this town.

They followed a few paces behind. ‘Which will it be?’ Thorin whispered. The icy king had gone for just a few seconds. This was the banter again, although it was not really the banter as they had known it before. This sounded forced, strained for some reason, as if both of them were desperately trying to hold on to something that was no longer there. ‘A modest entrance of a big an dramatic one?’

Kate pondered that for half a second. She had believed the book style entrée a little over the top, but if they wanted the people of Lake-town on their side, big and dramatic might be just what they needed. They did need to make an impact and they would not get that by not making a show out of this, much as she hated that. Tolkien did have a feel for dramatics every now and then and she was not quite sure how comfortable she was with those.

‘Big and dramatic,’ she decided.

She got a curt nod for her troubles. There was not exactly more time for conversation. They had passed the doors and had come into a large hall where people were feasting. The smell of food filled the air and Kate’s stomach growled hungrily when the delicious smells reached her nose. She had the good fortune that the noise of that was drowned out by the noise in the hall. She could hardly hear herself think as it was.

The Master of lake-town was seated at the far end of the hall. It was not too difficult to determine which one of the feasting men he was. To Kate it seemed like the people of this town chose their leader in the same fashion as the goblins did, because the Master was the tallest and fattest of the people in the hall for as far as Kate was aware. _Grown fat by sitting on his bum all day_ , she suspected. In this case the knowledge she already had about him came in handy. The book had informed her that this man valued the trade relations with Mirkwood and now that she saw him, Kate had to agree with Tolkien. He did not look like he would like the peace in his city disturbed.

But there was something a little more alarming. Next to the Master sat one of the elves she recognised from Galas’s patrol. Grey eyes, brown hair and as handsome as all his kinsmen he was, but Kate had mostly seen Lainor as Galas’s right-hand man, always at his beck and call and quite obviously buttering up to Thranduil’s arrogant nephew in hopes of getting a better position himself. That was what she thought at the very least. At the moment he seemed in the process of buttering up to the Master of the town and that was a development they could have done without.

Kate nudged Thorin. ‘Look who we’ve got there,’ she whispered, discreetly pointing out Lainor’s figure. If she had guessed right, he had been sent here to convince the Master to send back any dwarves that may come knocking. The book had better be right about the people’s reaction or they’d be back in Thranduil’s dungeons before they could say Erebor. And that was not a future Kate found herself looking forward to.

Thorin nodded, but the tension was written all over his face. Kate had seen him like that more than once. It was his crisis mode, she suspected. There was that blank expression on his face, but now it mingled with something that might be described as pride and anger. The anger was easily explained, given the fact that there was an elf in the room who was unlikely to be there only to test the quality of the food in these parts.

The captain walked away to inform the Master that he had guests quietly, without disturbing the rest of the guests, beckoning them to wait until he had done so. But if they let him do this his way, it was quite certain that the other people in the hall would never notice what was going on and therefore they would not rally to their course as _The Hobbit_ and professor Tolkien would have them do. And that was not part of their plan. They needed, as she had phrased it before, to help the book a little in coming true.

Thorin knew that too. If Kate knew him at all, he was none too happy about shouting his identity across the hall at the top of his lungs, but there was not a whole list of other options. He threw her a quick glance and then turned towards the hall to do what was necessary.

‘I am Thorin!’ It was more of a roar than a shout. It easily drowned out all the noise in the rest of the hall, catching its occupants’ attention effortlessly. ‘Son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the King under the Mountain. I have returned!’

If anyone had dropped a pin in the silence that followed, it might have deafened them all. Everyone turned, everyone stared. Kate found herself wishing that the ground would open and swallow her up. For just a few seconds that dragged out to what felt like endless hours, no one moved. And then the chaos happened.

Kate could not help but smile as she remembered that now that she was lying in her bath tub, even though the water in it was turning darker and darker now that the dirt was coming off her body. She had been dirty so long that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be clean, but now that she was, she remembered that she liked it.

And she did get the royal treatment. The Master of the town did not have an awful lot of choice after his own people got so carried away by their own enthusiasm. If anything, it would seem that Tolkien had not been exaggerating the hope of the people that the dragon would one day be defeated and the wealth of old would be restored along with the King under the Mountain. In this case it had been a matter of helping the book to come true, or it would not have happened. And that was something the advisor did not believe had ever happened before. She had been using the information in it to try and steer them away from the dangerous events. She had been using it as well to make sure Bilbo got them all out of that horrible dungeon of Thranduil’s. But never before had she tried to steer the real events to follow the book. That was something similar to turning the world upside down in her opinion.

But really, this was maybe not the night to ponder such matters. She would save those for tomorrow. For now Kate Andrews just lay in the bath and relaxed. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Our whole elf disaster in a nutshell:_

_There once were fourteen companions in Mirkwood,_

_Whose condition was not so very good._

_They got stuck in a cell_

_And although now all’s well,_

_They still had to escape the place in barrel-wood._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I can’t rhyme, but that little piece got into my head, so there you have it.   
> In other news, I do post a chapter for Duly Noted today. It’ll probably the last for some time, but I had most of it written anyway, so I thought I might as well put it online. And for those of you who do not know who Lady Nai is, of whom Kate speaks in the journal part, she does feature in chapter 3 of Duly Noted.   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review?


	53. Complications

_And so we entered Lake-town with cunning. It wasn’t honourable in any way and at that time I could not really bring myself to care about honour. We had companions in need of help and we ourselves were not really feeling too well either. We were tired, dirty and hungry. The elves had fed us well, but it had been quite a while since our last meal when we had escaped and by the time we had entered Lake-town, I’d say at least twenty-four hours had passed since the moment Bilbo and Dori had broken us out of the cell. Tempers were running short as a result of all the tension and I was rather quick to blame the lack of banter on that, even as I knew full well it had nothing to do with our predicament at the time._

_We were in luck though, because Thorin’s big and dramatic entrance turned the odds in our favour. I think all of you have heard his best battle commander roar at least once, generally the direct result of some prank or other one of you thought it wise to pull on some unsuspecting nobleman. Thorin was no less annoyed then as he tended to be after one of your childish pranks. He easily silenced a hall full of people. It did not even seem to take any trouble at all, although I won’t deny my ears were not extremely grateful for the treatment._

_At least we got the attention we had been seeking and that we, let’s be honest, needed for our plan to succeed. I kept my eyes mostly on the Master and his new best friend. The Master had paled considerably. That was a nice contrast to Lainor, who was giving a very believable demonstration of an overripe tomato next to him. It didn’t take an expert to conclude that they were not very pleased with our arrival and would make us go straight back to Mirkwood and Thranduil’s charming dungeons in chains as quickly as they possibly could. There was something about that Master that set my teeth on edge and made a cold shiver go down my spine. He was the kind of man who would probably even sell his friends if he thought there was something in it for him. And Lainor just wanted to get into his king’s good graces by recapturing some escaped prisoners. For a moment there, dears, things did not look very well for us at all._

_‘Get them!’ Lainor shouted, but it just so happened that his command coincided with a general cheering from the hall that rather drowned out his furiously shouted order. It would seem that the people of Lake-town were taking the old songs about the wealth of the King under the Mountain a tad bit too serious. If the stories I later heard do actually have an element of truth in them, then business had been booming in the days before Smaug. And even though the people here wanted for nothing, the thought of more wealth was not that unwelcome to them. I would have been the last person in that moment to point out that there was still a dragon to be reckoned with, because that evening people seemed to have forgotten it, although they would remember soon enough. Personally I blame the large amounts of alcohol that had already been consumed at the feast before we got there for their alarming and exaggerated cheerfulness._

_But that cheerfulness proved to be our salvation, so I would not complain. The Master looked like he had just consumed a very sour lemon instead of a feast. He was not exactly a stupid man and he knew that if he did not have any ambition to get skinned alive by his own people, then it might be a good idea to invite us. He whispered some words to his elvish companion after he had offered us his hospitality though, so I promised myself not to trust that scheming man…_

 

Kate was quite sure she had dozed off in that bath, even when she had promised herself she would only close her eyes for a few seconds, but when she opened her eyes again the water was cold and black, indicating that she had been here longer than she had intended. But the dirt on her body was gone and she felt refreshed. She got up and out of the tub, grabbing the towel that had been left for her next to it and covering herself with it before anyone could walk in and see her standing there stark naked.

The room was warm. There was a fire burning in the hearth that kept the chill away and bathed the chamber in a warm light. And it was a nice room too, spacious and cosy at the same time, especially in this light. She supposed it was the Middle Earth equivalent of a luxury hotel room, the kind of room royalty might stay in.

And that was after all what she pretended to be. To these people she was a visiting queen. The room she was forced to share with Thorin had a large hearth, a positively huge bed that she was trying not to pay too much attention just now, a wardrobe, a desk, some luxury chairs and a dressing table with a large mirror that Kate now turned to look at. She had not seen her own reflection since she had looked into the Anduin and even that had not been really helpful in terms of assessing how she had changed. This mirror was far more helpful.

She wasn’t sure she liked what she saw though. The first thing she noticed was that she had lost some weight. Kate supposed it was inevitable after the small rations they had in Mirkwood, even though the elves had fed them well. A lot of women might commit a murder to lose a few pounds, but Kate was not one of them. Rations might be cut back before everything came to an end and a few extra pounds might come in handy then. Besides, she just looked too skinny now.

The next thing she saw were the scars. The ones on her arm had healed well. Kate suspected some kind of elvish magic was involved, because the burn looked a lot less serious than it had been or should be in Kate’s mind. It was still ugly, still far too conspicuous and she still didn’t have a clue how to explain it at home, but she really had to admit that it could have been worse. _Yes, you could have been dead. Several times over_.

The scar the orc’s sword had made was a red line above the burn. That too had healed well, but she would have that thing the rest of her life. And yes, that too could have been a whole lot worse if that annoying and unpredictable Elvaethor had not done whatever it was that he had done and fixed it up. And, like the burn, this was easily hidden as long as she wore something with long sleeves, or sleeves that at least covered her upper arms. If she was careful, no one at home would ever find out.

It was her face that worried her most. The goblins’ whip had left a scar as well across her face. That was something she could never hide. And she hated it. _Not very queenly looking, is it?_ She was not very vain, but she was a woman. No matter how much she tried to deny it to her companions, her looks did matter to her and this thing was ruining them rather effectively.

But the scar was not the only think that had changed. Whoever it was that was looking back at her from that looking glass, it was not the Kate Andrews that had unwillingly set out on this journey. That Kate didn’t have quite such a determined jawline or eyes that looked like they had seen far too much. The old Kate had been burned away, leaving a woman instead of a short-tempered girl.

 _You’ve grown up_ , she told herself. And now she found she would do almost anything to be a child again, to be carefree and happy, to have no concerns more pressing than the need to go out and play with friends in the street. She had not asked for this, had not wanted it and now that this quest had changed her the way it had, she wished the change could be undone again. Because whoever this woman was, she would have a very hard time living in the world the girl had grown up in. How would she ever fit in there again after everything that had happened to her? It made her feel uprooted and very alone. There was no one who had gone through what she had gone through, no one to relate to or ask advice of and all of a sudden she had to bite back tears, caused by exhaustion and loneliness. If she’d just have someone she could really be open with…

‘My lady?’ a hesitant voice asked.

Kate bit back the tears and gave herself a quick mental scolding for not paying better attention to her surroundings before she turned around to face a girl only three or four years younger than she was. She was a serving girl, Kate supposed, if her simple grey dress and the white apron were anything to go by. She was looking at the ground.

‘Yes?’ Kate asked, not entirely sure what the girl was doing here. This young woman may only be a few years younger than the advisor, but she was a girl still. She had never seen any real hardship in her life, did not know yet how cruel the world and its inhabitants could be. Kate hoped to God she would never have any cause to find out. Innocence, she had come to learn on her journey, was a precious thing and irreplaceable once lost.

 _Good grief, Andrews, you’re going sentimental. Do get a grip, will you?_ her brain commented. _This is the exhaustion talking, not you_. She somehow doubted that was entirely true though.

‘My lord sent me here to help you dress, my lady,’ the girl replied.

‘And your lord would be the Master of this town?’ Kate assumed. She had never needed any help in dressing before, but she supposed she would have to put up with this nonsense now that she was trying to pass as a queen. But there would not be much help needed, she reckoned. She only had a few clothes from home and the ones she had worn before, but were now taken away for washing. She could put those on herself.

The girl nodded. ‘Yes, my lady.’ She blushed and looked down again. The constant adding of a title that the company advisor did not even think she was entitled to in the first place started to annoy her a little, but she could hardly tell the girl to quit using it and call her by her given name instead. Queens didn’t do that. _Thank goodness that this is only pretence and not my real life._

The serving girl’s behaviour did alert her to another, far more pressing problem though. Shit, she still was wearing nothing more than that towel she had wrapped around her. With propriety rules being what they were in this world, it was hardly a miracle the girl was scandalised. ‘What’s your name?’ Kate wondered, to distract the girl as much as herself.

‘Inga, my lady,’ was the reply. She still didn’t look up.

‘Well, Inga, it would seem that I do not have anything to wear apart from the extra set of clothes that I brought with me,’ the advisor pointed out. ‘Thank your lord for me, but I do not think there is much help I’ll require from you.’ She really hoped she had done this right. Again she cursed her lack of knowledge of the etiquette in these parts. Dori or Ori might have mentioned them, although she was not entirely sure about that either, but a quest with only male individuals for companions was not the ideal time to learn about manners, especially since men did not particularly seemed to care for them when they were on the road.

‘The Master thought it be prudent that some clothes were found for you, my lady,’ Inga said. ‘He said that you were not in the possession of women’s clothes and he sought to remedy that.’ She pointed to a green dress with silver embroidery along the sleeves and neckline that had been laid out on the bed, which would also explain why Kate had not seen it before.

 _Did he now?_ Kate was not an expert when it came to politics, but she knew how to read between lines and the Master’s offer  suggested that there was an insult worked in there. And the notion that he was trying to get her to behave the way he wanted, like a respectable woman who dressed accordingly, made the old Kate’s rebellious nature resurface. If she had gotten her way, she’d have refused to wear the dress just because the Master of Lake-town wanted her to wear it, but taken into account that the only alternative was to show up at the feast in her T-shirt, she didn’t think there was much choice at all. The town’s people had been shocked quite enough for one day.

‘In that case, you’d better stay.’ Kate looked with some alarm at the dress. It looked elaborate and ridiculously difficult to put on even if one knew how to do that. And she had never been the dress type, more like the grab-jeans-and-a-shirt-put-them-on-and-ready-to-go type. Skirts she wore, when forced, but dresses were another matter entirely. They were just not practical and this particular one carried the promise of very many trips over the hem in its very stitches. How on earth was she supposed to be moving around in that?

 _Possibly by putting on foot in front of the other_ , her brain commented sarcastically as Inga went on the crusade to get Kate into the gown. For just this once the advisor did as she was told and let the servant worry about the rest, because she did not have a clue as to how to do all of this _. Inga had better be here when I come back, because I think I’ll just die of shame if I needed to ask Thorin for help._

She frowned as she realised she had not seen a trace of him ever since she had gotten here. He would probably be busy pacifying an angry Master and his elvish friend, as in so far Thorin Oakenshield was capable of pacifying anyone. He would better leave that job to Balin, who excelled in it.

Well, wherever the dwarf king was, Kate was just glad it was not here. The awkwardness had risen to new heights – or sunken to new lows, depending on one’s perspective – and the distance between them was now more than welcome. She needed to dig through the mess of feelings and emotions and sort them out, preferably before she would come back here to sleep, although she was certain that would not be very helpful in any way, quite the opposite. _If only I was back home, things would be so much easier._

But that was just the exhaustion talking. With the danger gone for a while and the company all safe, Kate found that she was bone-weary, even after her little nap in the bath. Because really, this was more fatigue of the mind than it was of the body. She really hoped that this was just a minor dip, one that would pass soon, because at the moment she just wanted it all to end. She wanted this quest to be over and done with and her life to be simple again.

She might as well have wished for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for all the good her wishing did her. Life did not work like that and she would have to see this through to the very end, no matter how that end would turn out to be. Her oaths demanded it of her and her friendship with Thorin did as well. And she was still in absolutely no position to get home on her own. She needed to stay here, as awkward as it currently was.

‘Pardon me for asking, my lady, but have you never worn a dress before?’ Inga asked at a certain point in time.

Kate grimaced before she could even stop herself from doing it. Fortunately for her Inga was busy trying to get the skirt to look right, so she didn’t notice. Was her ignorance truly that obvious? ‘Not for a long time,’ she replied truthfully. ‘And never one as elaborate as this one.’ She had a story in her head that sounded plausible. _Good grief, Andrews, since when did you go into the business of lying?_

Inga seemed confused. ‘But they said you are a queen, my lady.’ The tone of voice only confirmed that she did not understand. ‘Queens don’t wear men’s clothes, do they?’

‘Normal queens do not,’ Kate replied. ‘But I’m a queen in exile, Inga. My people do not have the time for luxuries as beautiful dresses.’ She had a hard time telling this, not only because it was a lie, but also because there was a certain amount of truth in her words. She had heard the stories her companions told around campfires and that had made her realise that the dwarves of Durin’s Folk did not have an easy time, even though things were looking up these last few decades. But before then it had been a struggle to survive and it made Kate almost feel guilty at times that she wished for her life to become as it had been before when her friends’ lives had been anything but normal. _Stop wallowing, Andrews. You’ve got lies to tell._

Inga’s jaw appeared in serious danger of dropping. ‘I… I didn’t know.’

 _How could you?_ This was a land without radio, television or internet. News did not travel like wildfire in this world. And although it was obvious that the people of this land had wanted the King under the Mountain to return, they were clearly not aware of how aforementioned king had fared when he was not under his Mountain. They either did not care or had no way to find out. Kate thought it might very well be the first option for most of them as well as the second.

‘It matters not,’ she said, trying to keep up the kind queen mask. Thorin was not likely to play the sympathy card well, if he played it at all. That might be her part. It was something that went without saying, but then, it might not have occurred to Thorin at all that it would be a good idea to keep the people on their side. He was too much a king for that and although he cared deeply for his own people, he did not seem to care much about the race of Men. Taken into account what a downright nasty piece of work the Master was, Kate could not even find it in herself to fault him for that. But because they would not have this Master’s support willingly, they needed to keep on the good side of his people, because that meant the Master would not dare to act against the company.

 _Politics are the same everywhere_ , she thought wearily as she allowed Inga to brush her hair. The prospect was unlikely to make her do a happy dance around the room. _And people never really change either._ That too was not making her grab an ale to celebrate. Lake-town was supposed to be a place of rest for them, but the way things were now, it was as likely to be a struggle for survival as that fight with the orcs had been. This just required a different way of fighting. It was a battle that needed to be fought with words. _That should be right up your street then._

She was pondering all this while Inga busied herself with Kate’s hair, that was more or less obedient now that it was still damp. The girl seemed nice enough and Kate almost felt guilty for using her in her strategy. Almost. She was quite sure that Inga would tell her friends all that transpired here tonight and those friends in turn might gossip about it with other people and thus rumours would spread. _Catherine the Cunning indeed_. When had she become so sly and calculating?

 _Since you want to come out of this alive_ , common sense helpfully chimed in.

But she would not deny that Inga was an enormous help in this. The girl almost made it too easy for her to play this particular game. ‘My lady, I hope you won’t mind me asking, but why did you marry a dwarf?’ By the look of things she had been dying to ask that question for quite some time now. The serving girl was curious and could barely hide that fact at all.

Kate smiled indulgently even as her stomach clenched a bit. She could give Inga a number of reasons, but all of them came far too close to the truth of things in Kate’s opinion. Those treacherous feelings had not died the moment she had audibly denied their existence to Thorin’s face. Quite the opposite, it would seem. They were as strong as they had ever been, stronger perhaps even.

And the most frustrating thing was perhaps that she had never wanted to feel this way. When she had just joined the quest, she had reminded herself firmly that this was nothing like a fanfiction at all. The dwarves’ behaviour in general, and Thorin’s specifically, had confirmed that for her. At some point in time she had even been convinced that there was no way Thorin and she could even be friends, he was that unfair and infuriating. And so she had let her guard down. First she had allied herself with him, out of necessity, and next she had befriended him, because it would make her life so much easier if she didn’t fight with him anymore, and that was supposed to have been the end of it. But one way or another that stupid dwarf had wriggled his way into her heart whilst being completely unmoved himself.

‘Because I fell in love with him. And he with me,’ Kate replied. Only the last words were a lie. ‘We met while he was working as a blacksmith in Bree.’ _We met in a hobbit’s house a few days’ rides away._ ‘There was something there right away, I think you could say.’ _Those things being anger and annoyance._ ‘He came back a few times after that and one thing came from the other.’ _In a manner of speaking_. ‘It is not very usual for the two of us to be together.’ _And still everyone we met automatically assumed it_. ‘But it works for us.’ _If only that were true._

It sounded like a soppy clichéd romance story to Kate’s ears. In those soppy romances the girl got her prince and they all lived happily ever after, but that was unlikely to happen in her life. If however they could work on the suggestion that Thorin and she were such a clichéd true-love-conquers-anything couple, they might get on people’s good sides and that might make them more likely to aid the company in their quest.

Suddenly she felt cheap, using her own love life like that and it wasn’t even a complete lie, not to her anyway. She hated how complicated it had all become. Why could she not have kept up her guard and argue with that sodding king until kingdom come? She would have disliked him, she might even have hated him and by the time they’d arrived in Mirkwood she was probably depressed, but at least her heart wouldn’t feel like it had been broken into hundreds of little pieces.

 _Yeah, and if Gandalf had never taken you, you’d never have been in any danger either, but he did, so stop acting like a teenage girl with a crush and act your age. You have a girl to deceive and a town to charm._ Common sense seemed remarkably determined to make itself heard lately.

Her mental reprimand helped some, even though it did remind her of the fact that she had to lie to the people that had taken them in. And Kate had never been too skilled in the art of being nice to people she couldn’t stand and neither had she indulged a lot in small talk. She hated beating around the bush and not being able to take things at face value.

_Well, that’s politics for you. You’re royalty to these people. You’d better act the part._

And she looked the part, Kate realised. The woman who now looked back to her in the mirror wore a dress worthy of a highborn lady and had her hair in an elaborate hairdo that Dori would surely approve of. The change was most obvious in her face, though. It still bore the scar, but hopefully to the people of this town that would only mean that she was not a passive ruler, but one who got up to fight, even if she had never excelled at it. But these people would not know that. They only saw what she showed them.

And she would show them a queen. Kate Andrews had made this quest her own, even if she had not known her oath would have such consequences. And focusing on the task to make the people of this town like her would force the altogether confusing Thorin matter from her mind for the time being. It would be good to have a goal.

The advisor schooled her face into something that might pass as regal: calm expression, alert gaze, smiling, but not overly so. _Now I’ll just need to practise my royal wave_ , she thought sarcastically. But her sarcasm might need to stay in her head tonight. Kate hated it with a passion, but that was the way things were.

‘Well, my lady, I am glad you are happy with him,’ Inga muttered. The expression on her face however betrayed that she could not for the life of her understand what had gotten into her when she had chosen to marry Thorin. ‘I am done, my lady,’ she added before Kate could give an answer to that, even if she had known what she would say to that. ‘Or was there something else you wanted me to do?’

 _Time to go and put on the charmer, Andrews_. ‘No, that will be all,’ Kate said. ‘Thank you, Inga.’ _Now off you go and gossip the night away_. Kate had her own work cut out for her. So she took a deep breath and went to do it.

 

***

 

Thorin had thought that he would like Esgaroth when he came there. The book had promised him a warm welcome, cheerful people, a place to rest and a chance to prepare properly for the final stage of the quest. It would seem that he was now proven wrong on at least two out of four points. True, the people were cheerful enough when they learned of his identity, maybe even overly so. And their welcome was warmer than any welcome the dwarf king had experienced in a long time. They were given rooms, baths, clothes and the feast that was already being held, had now changed into a feast in their honour.

But there were icy undertones in the welcome. Thorin was no stranger to politics and could recognise a politician’s insincerity when he happened upon it. And the Master of this town was wearing a mask of pretend friendliness if Thorin had ever seen one. It had come on very quickly, but just for a few short seconds his face had betrayed fear, panic and then downright hate when he learned of his guest’s identity. But then the people had started to cheer and he’d had no choice but to go with it. He was a slippery eel, Thorin realised, and he would have to proceed with caution, because this man would turn the people against them if he got as much as half a chance. Thorin was of no mind to give that to him. He had seen quite enough of elvish dungeons for the rest of his life.

But that meant that there would be no rest for him, not in this town. True, he would not need to run for his life or fight for it, but he would need to control his temper and smile when he did not feel like smiling, be friendly when he felt more inclined to bash his conversation partner’s head against a wall and speak words that he did not mean at all. It was not that he could not do it – being born as the eldest son to a direct descendant of Durin the Deathless meant that he had been taught diplomacy and policy from the time he had been old enough to know what those words meant – but he hated it. In the dwarf’s opinion shady political games were an elvish invention and he’d rather not bother with those.

But there was not much choice. He’d have to do it. Balin excelled in this game, but it would not do to let his closest friend take care of the formal side of things. Balin was not the king, and Thorin was. And Mahal knew he could not rely on Kate to play this game well. She may be intelligent enough to read between the lines – he had no doubt of that – but her temper was too unpredictable and tact was not a word that seemed to be in her vocabulary.

He had sent the advisor ahead to wash and dress when they had been given the rooms. She looked like she needed it and so he had seen to the rest of the company when they were brought in by a now very apologetic captain of the guards, who seemed to take it as personal failure that Kate had fainted at the gate.

It did not take Thorin much to realise that not every single one of his men would be able to attend the feast. Bombur and Óin looked pretty much dead on their feet and Thorin sent them to bed right away. Nori was not looking too well either, but the thief just pulled an Óin and pretended to be deaf when his king ordered him to go and rest. The hobbit was sneezing and looking altogether miserable, but he insisted that he could handle it all. But he topped it off with a sneeze so loud people on the other side of the town could hear it.

‘Get some rest, Master Baggins,’ Thorin ordered him curtly. ‘I will see to it that some food is brought to you.’ The burglar was turning out to be a better burglar than the dwarf could have hoped for and he _had_ smuggled them out of Thranduil’s palace successfully. Of course it could be argued that he had only done that because of the book’s help, but what really mattered was that it had happened. In his eyes the halfling had proven himself and that made him entitled to the same care that was extended to every other member of the company in Thorin’s eyes.

It spoke for how exhausted the hobbit was that he did not even protest any further, not even when he would be forced to miss out on the feast he would have loved dearly. He simply nodded and began to ascend the stairs of the house that had been given to them, almost tripping over his large feet several times, emphasising just how tired he was.

‘You as well, Balin,’ Thorin told his old friend. He would have wanted nothing better than to have his friend beside him during this ordeal, but the elderly dwarf did not look much better than Bombur and Óin and those two had been sent to bed right away. Balin could hardly walk and had been leaning on his brother for the duration of the walk here.

But he was as stubborn as any other dwarf. ‘There’s life in me yet, laddie,’ he reminded his king. ‘I can do this.’ He didn’t go as far as to say that Thorin would need him, because he was unlikely to appreciate that, but the words didn’t need to be spoken to be heard all the same and they both knew that. And they both knew the truth of it.

‘You need to rest,’ Thorin repeated. Ultimately he would have to do what was best for his company and Balin wearing himself out on his behalf was not doing the best for his company. ‘I will have no argument from you.’

‘Thorin, I can still help,’ Balin insisted.

‘He’s got an advisor for that,’ Dwalin pointed out. He was still supporting his older sibling. ‘You can’t even walk without assistance, brother.’

Thorin was grateful for Dwalin’s support in this, even though he was not so certain how much help Kate would be. But he kept his silence for the moment, because this argument did seem to have some effect on his oldest friend – oldest in every sense of the word – and he would not ruin it, even as some small and irrational part of him longed to ask that he stayed for the feast. But he was a king and giving in to selfish whims was not something he could do. His people had to come before everything else.

He watched as Dwalin helped Balin up the stairs, made sure that everyone else was in and had gone to bathe and change and then dispatched a servant to bring food to those who would not be going to the feast with him. With all that out of the way, he went up the stairs to change. Surely Kate would be done by now.

That was one of the most painful things of all, he reckoned, to be forced to share a room while he knew that nothing would ever happen between them. Kate did not even want this and now it started to occur to the dwarf that he may have made a terrible mistake in telling the guards that Kate was his wife. It had come too close to reality and his own wishes in Mirkwood already and he now feared the damage this farce would do to both their lives. If they were not careful, it could break apart their friendship entirely and the thought of that hurt more than he was willing to admit.

As it turned out, Kate was far from done. The spacious room was now dominated by both the bed and the large bath tub. The bed was empty, the bath was not. Kate was sitting in it, her head lying on the side, sleeping deeply. Fortunately it was only her head that was visible from where he was standing. Everything from the neck down was hidden in the water and soap. She looked tired, exhausted, Thorin decided. The ordeal had taken a toll on her, a heavier one than she had let on.

He would not wake her. As much as he would like to have her at his side for this coming ordeal, if only for the comfort he could draw from her presence and occasional witticism, the rule that he would do whatever was best for his company also applied to her. She was a member of this company, no matter how unlikely. And she was also a member of the company he should be staying away from.

He studied her face, to see if he somehow thought it more attractive than before. If he truly had fallen for this woman, it would not be for her looks, he knew. It would be because of her character, her witticisms, her humour and, he would be a fool to deny it, her bravery when she had defied orcs and wargs to save him on the slopes of the Misty Mountains.

The dwarf was pleased to find that in terms of physical attraction nothing had truly changed. Had he not known Kate, he would not have looked at her at all should she pass him in the street. It was only because he did know her that he liked the wild curly mass of her hair, the spark in her currently closed eyes and lopsided grin that could light up her entire face. It was only because he knew her that he could appreciate her appearance; because it made her Kate.

He gave himself a mental kick in the behind when he realised he was stalling, wasting time on watching a woman that would never be his. He had more important things on his mind at the moment and watching Kate in what she would doubtlessly label a compromising situation was not even supposed to be on his list of priorities. It would never be and therefore it would be best not to stay here and look at things that he was not supposed to see. She might bite his head off later if she were ever to find out.

Thorin quickly washed with the water from a bowl and dressed in the clothes the people of the town had somehow managed to provide for him. They didn’t fit very well, but they would have to do and it was better than his own clothes, that were in desperate need of washing. Strangely enough he felt less like himself than he had in ages. On the journey he was the leader, yes, but he was also just one of the men, an equal in many ways. Here however he was the king and all responsibility rested on his shoulders. The weight of it was pushing him down almost physically. The success of his quest largely depended on how well he could play this to his advantage.

He took a deep breath, forced himself not to look at the advisor again and then left the room and the house. The latter took a little longer than planned, because he spotted a healer and made a small detour to ask after his men’s wellbeing, pleased to hear that they had nothing more serious than an empty stomach, painful muscles and a severe case of the common cold. Mahal be praised that it had not been worse. This news at least put Thorin’s mind a little more at rest and he preceded towards the main hall.

The town’s main hall, where the feast was given, was on the other side of the street, even though he had to cross a bridge to get there. The book had not been exaggerating when it stated that the entire town had been built literally on, or rather above, the Long Lake. It did not do anything to make him feel more comfortable. Dwarves had not been meant to fly on eagles’ backs and neither had they been created to spend their lives on water, or several inches above it, for that matter.

So far all this town had succeeded in was to create a desperate wish in him to leave. It hardly mattered that he had no supplies and no aid of any kind, but this very town set his teeth on edge. The people were kind, but so far they were the only thing stopping the Master, an unpleasant lordship by the name of Lord Erland, from handing them over to that elf that had spent most of the time Thorin had known him trailing after Galas in the hopes of getting into the elf’s good graces, which was a waste of time in Thorin’s opinion; no one seemed to be in Galas’s good graces except Galas and perhaps Thranduil. Thorin thought that Thranduil’s messenger was called Lainor, but it could very easily be something else, Landor or Lainas or something equally nonsensical. Elves always tried to make their names sound like it was some kind of song in and out of itself.

He took a deep breath and entered the hall. The place was bathed in light and most of the company was already there, feasting on the high table near the Master. The smell of food reached Thorin’s nose and his stomach growled in anticipation, reminding him that he had failed to put something in it for a solid twenty-four hours at the very least. Strangely enough that had not even occurred to him before now. There had been too much else going on.

The seat next to the Master had been kept empty for him. It was the place of honour, but at the moment Thorin did not think he’d like to occupy it, taken into account just who it was that he would be sitting next to, a person who’d want to nothing less than honour him. Fortunately he would have Fíli on his other side. And he would need that friendly face next to him, because if he was going to put up with the Master and Lainor both, he might be in acute danger of losing his mind.

‘King Thorin!’ Lord Erland’s voice was too jovial when he greeted him. The Master of this town was practically oozing pretend friendliness and barely controlled anger, but he kept his mask firmly in place. He did a poor job of it though. His eyes gave him away. ‘It is good to see you again.’ _Now that you have washed a bit_. The last part of the sentence was easy to make out. Thorin had been roaming the shady realm of politics for most of his life and he could read between lines well enough. Only when elves were involved did this skill abandon him.

‘It is good of you to welcome us into your beautiful town,’ Thorin replied coolly. He failed to mention the fact that his guards would have turned them away at the gate if Kate had not come up with a plan. He had to be polite now. He could not alienate these people. And he hated it. To him it felt like he was shackled at hands and feet. It was not the kind of dwarf that he was.

‘People have long spoken of the return of the King under the Mountain,’ the Master said. ‘Never though had I thought it would happen in my lifetime.’

‘Did you think my people would forget our feud with the dragon?’ Thorin countered, maybe a little too sharply, but inside he was fuming. Lord Erland’s remark proved that he was rather hoping that the feud with Smaug would be forgotten by the dwarves. The firedrake had not been seen for decades, not since before this lordship was even born, and as long as he did not cause trouble, the people of Esgaroth were content with their lot. They were wealthy – not as wealthy as in the days of yore though – and Smaug did not bother them. Lord Erland was like Thranduil in this regard. He too feared that Thorin and his company would wake up the dragon and set him loose on his precious town.

The worst thing about this was that he might even have a point there. The book had said that Smaug would suspect that the people had helped the company to break into the Mountain and would take out his anger on them by destroying their town on the Long Lake, after which a certain Bard, whom Thorin had yet to see, would take down the beast with one well-aimed arrow. These people would be right to fear the consequences of the dwarves returning to their homeland.

And that made the dwarf uneasy, if only a bit. He did not particularly like these people, but he would not wish Smaug’s wrath on them either. But he planned for these worries to be irrelevant. They would be the ones to slay the dragon that had wreaked such havoc on the land for so long. If all went well, the people of Esgaroth would never be bothered by Smaug and his revenge at all.

Lord Erland did look a bit uncomfortable, but only for a moment. He took a deep breath, doubtlessly so he could tell the dwarf king that he had meant no such thing, even if that would be a blatant lie, but he stopped before he had even begun to speak, practically staring at the doors. His jaw didn’t drop, but it looked like it was in danger of doing so very soon.

It was automatic that Thorin followed his gaze and then the Master’s jaw wasn’t the only one in immediate danger of dropping. _Mahal be good_. Kate had entered, looking around her as if she wanted to be anywhere but here, looking as ill at ease as Thorin felt. But he could only tell that because he knew her and could read the signs that were too subtle for strangers to read.

And strangers, he had no doubt, would see a queen. Someone had given her an elegant dress and had worked those unruly red curls into an elaborate hairdo. Thorin was used to seeing her in a simple trousers and tunic, had never even seen her walk around in a skirt. But he found that it made a world of difference. She looked almost beautiful now. To the men in this hall, she would be.

The stares she got from aforementioned men were testimony enough and suddenly Thorin found that he wished for her to have remained in her travelling clothes. Jealousy, he knew, even if he knew he had nothing to fear. Kate was not his, would never be his and so he had no right to feel so possessive of her. But he also knew that Kate would never look at any of these men the way they looked at her, because she would want to return to her own world. She was not looking for a partner here. This made him feel a little better, if not much.

Kate was still looking around her, looking for her friends, Thorin would bet. He had not even expected her to come, had told her that she should rest before he had sent her up to change. Her sleeping in the bath had been some kind of confirmation, but then she had shown up either way. There was a part of Thorin, an altogether far too large part, that was relieved to have her here now that Balin had been taken ill.

He caught her eyes and she smiled in relief as she started to make her way to him, despite the fact that the only chair still empty on the table was positioned next to that elf, whatever his name was. And that was not done. ‘Fíli, move over,’ he told his sister-son. It was not a very kind thing to do, but to seat Kate next to that arrogant pointy-ear would probably result in diplomatic disaster, which made the offer respectable. Besides, like it or not, the advisor was still posing as his wife. To have her so far away from him on an official occasion would be highly suspicious.

And if Fíli thought anything of it, he did not comment on it. He obligingly left his seat to take the vacant one between the elf and Dwalin, a seat that quite possibly deliberately had been kept empty. It would not have surprised the king. The elf immediately engaged the Master in a conversation about boats that could be used on both the river and the Long Lake, a topic Thorin had nothing to add to, which was why he strongly suspecting that Thranduil’s messenger was shutting him out on purpose. For the time being he was fine with that. He wanted contact with these people even less than they wanted it with him.

‘You know, I could have dealt with Lord Lainor,’ Kate said in a hushed voice as she took the chair to Thorin’s right.

‘I know,’ Thorin replied. ‘It would however have had some rather unwelcome consequences.’

His advisor scowled at him. ‘Your lack of faith in my diplomatic abilities is rather insulting, you know?’ she said in an annoyed tone of voice. ‘I can be diplomatic.’

The dwarf king tried and failed not to snort at that. Kate could be a lot of things, but if she had any skills in diplomacy, Thorin had yet to see them. Yet he was glad to have her here, because as foolish as her remarks could be, they also had the tendency to brighten his days. And they would need brightening in this place. ‘I don’t want you to be,’ he told her honestly before he had even thought about it.

But as he said it, he found that he meant it. As King under the Mountain he would have to be polite and kingly all the time, but he had supposedly married a woman with a common background, who spoke her mind. The elves had come to know her as such and it would be strange if she suddenly changed her habits. And he would be able to blame all her sarcasm on her background, which would make sure that they were not taken as an offence, while she could say all the things Thorin was dying to say, but could not. It might not be the wisest course of action, but if he was to hang on to his sanity in his place, then this would be a necessity. Besides, he did not think Kate could really control her temper once she was properly angered. It was not who she was.

Kate frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

The awkwardness and irritation that had dominated their interaction before they had come here seemed to have gone. He could only hope that it was forever and that it was not a temporary thing. Maybe it was just the result of the exhaustion and hunger, and now both had been cured, their friendship would continue as before. It was not what he’d wanted most, but he could settle for it if that was the best he could get.

He meant to answer her question, but was stopped by that annoying song again. The people had been singing about his return all night, something that made him almost just as uncomfortable as the Master’s barely concealed hostility. He did not recognise the dwarf they were singing about in their words, but yet it was him they were praising in their songs. They expected him to do great things and Thorin was not yet sure that he could do them.

 

_‘The King beneath the mountains,_

_The King of carven stone,_

_The lord of silver fountains_

_Shall come into his own!’_

 

The singing went on, but Thorin tried to block it out. He hated the song. He shared their hopes for the future, but they would not be the ones that needed to defeat a dragon and reclaim a homeland that had been lost for so long. That would be his task, his duty, and he could really do without the reminder these people were singing to him. What he needed, he realised, was a distraction.

‘They are serenading us,’ he told Kate.

She caught on right away, even if it was with an amount of disbelief that was probably just as big as the Mountain Thorin one day hoped to be king of again. ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ she all but begged of him. ‘You can’t mean for me to do that here?’

 _Yes, I can. I need it_. ‘You mocked elves in their own land and sang to orcs while we were in danger of being killed by them,’ he pointed out. ‘Why is this so different?’

Kate looked at him as if he had grown a second head, but he could see the twinkle in her eyes already. He could almost see and hear her mind work. ‘I can’t believe that I am even considering this,’ she muttered. ‘I must be out of my mind.’ She fixed him with as icy a stare as she was capable of. ‘On your head be it,’ she warned him. ‘If this gets us killed, I’ll haunt you for all eternity.’

It was alarming how little he disliked that particular notion and so he just arched an eyebrow at the advisor.

She just shook her head, before she started to do as Thorin has asked of her.

 

_‘These people have turned to madness,_

_Enough for serious concern_

_With all this exaggerated gladness_

_At the Mountain-king’s return!’_

 

The hall was instantly silent and everyone stared at the supposed queen in disbelief. And although they were still in a town that felt not quite openly hostile to the dwarf king, in that moment all was well with the world. He started to laugh and then, Mahal be praised for that, caused by the King under the Mountain’s clear approval of the rather inappropriate song, the people joined in. Tonight might not be too bad after all.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I can’t believe that I just did that. I must have lost my mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a monster chapter. I hope you don’t mind. Next time: Thorin and Kate do not sleep very well. Until then, please review?


	54. Nightmare Scenarios

_There was a very strange atmosphere that night at the feast, my dears. It was cheerful, almost overly so, but there was an underlying sense of unease, hostility and strain. Most of it originated with the Master, Lord Erland, who had to be the most unpleasant man I had met in a long time, although he would have a battle for that first place with Thranduil and Galas. But he certainly was an unkind man who may not be at liberty to convey the concept of unwelcome with words, but he sure tried to make up for it in deeds. He shut us out of conversations, by discussing things with Lainor that we knew next to nothing about and sometimes he would accidentally “forget” that we were there, after which he would make elaborate excuses which everyone with a brain could hear he did not mean at all._

_It set my teeth on edge and made me wish I had turned that song into a mockery of our host, but that would be pushing my luck too far. I had already been pushing it to the very limits with my rendition of the people’s welcoming song and although that had turned out far better than I had even dared to hope, it had not escaped my notice that their leader was looking daggers at me and had glares had the power of daggers, I would have been dead on the floor before the evening was out, along with all my companions._

_To be quite honest, my blood was practically boiling because of the way we were being treated. Oh, the people were happy enough. Of that I did not have a single doubt. The positive vibes that were swirling around were rather difficult to miss. They even reached the far ends of the high table, where the rest of the company was feasting, singing and laughing. Up where we were sitting it was rather icy. There was pretend happiness enough, but it was just that: pretence. Under all that truth was a nasty game going on that neither your father nor me missed out on. The Master was a bastard in every sense of the word, apart from the fact that he was apparently not born out of wedlock. Shame indeed, because if that had been the case he’d never have become the Master of Lake-town._

_But if he thought he could play these shady games, I could repay him in his own coin. Thorin and I did not consciously agree to do this. It was something that went without words. All it took was one single glance and a curt nod of the head to establish that we were not letting him get away with this. At the time I was just anxious to get things back to normal, or what passed for normal with the two of us anyway. This unspoken agreement confirmed my idea that our friendship from before had been saved and that we would carry on as we had always done, before the kiss. I had come to the conclusion that we could still be friends, even if nothing else could ever come of it. Little did I know that Thorin felt exactly the same. Had we talked about it for real, we might have worked things out sooner, but we didn’t and that evening I was just too relieved that the friendship still endured to worry about relationships that could not be and besides, I was too preoccupied annoying a Master and an elvish messenger._

_And so Thorin and I started to talk about things that had happened to us on the road – with a lot of editing – when Lord Erland finally deemed us worthy of his precious time. We deliberately referenced events and places he had not heard of and then “accidentally” failed to explain what it was that we meant. Don’t worry, we were not truly rude – because that would have meant he could have called us out on it and hold us responsible – and we were subtle about it. He could not truly accuse us of shutting him out of our conversation, just as we had not been able to accuse him of doing that, but it was obvious enough to drive the message home. It was a dangerous game we played, but at the time, neither of us could really care…_

 

Thorin was relieved when he finally had a good excuse to leave that horrible hall. It was too noisy, too cheerful and the taste of shady elvish backstabbing disagreed with his appetite. The Master’s barely concealed hostility made his stomach very nearly turn and left a bad taste in his mouth. There was something that reminded him all too much of Thranduil’s cowardice in the man, although cowardice had stopped being an elvish trait the moment Dáin had decided that he did not like to risk his life against a dragon. When Smaug came into the picture, people tended to cower away in fear and it enraged the dwarf king.

When he looked at his company he saw miners, tinkers and toymakers. They had a burglar who had never burgled anything in his life before, a few warriors, although some of them were rather old, a gentle scribe and an advisor who looked like she could be blown away in the gentlest wind. They had all come on a quest that, he would have to admit, had a very small chance of success. They had all come where battle-hardened warriors ran for the cover of their mothers’ skirts. It made Thorin want to pick some object, and he didn’t mind which one, and smash it against a wall or, better still, Lord Erland’s head.

It was rather obvious that this lordship did not think Thorin to be very intelligent, something probably whispered into his ear by his new best friend the elf. His attempts to shut his newly arrived guests out of the conversation had been an insult if he had ever heard one and Thorin would not deny that he had relished the chance to repay him in kind for that offence. And, as it had turned out, he had enjoyed the chance to get back at the Master and elf alike. In the end it had even turned out to be more fun than he had originally anticipated and Kate seemed to have liked it as well.

And if there was one thing the dwarf was grateful for at the time, it was that the easy friendship that had grown between him and the advisor was still there. The banter had not changed and by the end of the evening both of them were, against all odds, having a good time. The elf – Kate had informed him that his name was indeed Lainor – had been looking more sour with each passing second until the expression on his face would have sufficed to conjure up a storm that would last for the rest of the year. Kate had seen it too and then had made quite a show of discreetly putting a pretence fatigue on display. She yawned behind her hand.

‘I beg your pardon, my lords,’ she had said with a sickeningly sweet smile that would give even Lainor a run for his money. ‘The trials of the day must have worn me out, as I am sure you can understand. I think I’ll retire for the night.’

Thorin had barely been able to hide the smirk that was fighting to find a way onto his face. He had never taken his advisor for the manipulative kind, but it would seem that she was. Now she was the one to end the feast, on her terms, and no one could reasonably protest, because she was a queen who had endured a great many trials. The evidence for that was still visible on her forehead.

Lord Erland and Lainor were practically steaming, but they knew that they could not protest. Thorin had stood as well. ‘Good night,’ he bid them, not meaning that really, but it was expected of him. ‘I must see to my wife’s wellbeing.’

And now he stood at the desk in the room, nursing a goblet of wine with his eyes on the view he had from the window, so that he had his back turned on Kate, who was helped out of her dress and into a nightgown by a serving girl. They may pretend to be married, but there were limits. And he hardly needed things between them to become awkward again, just as they had been solved.

‘Will there anything else, my lady?’ the girl asked timidly.

‘Thank you, Inga. This will be all. Go home and get some rest.’ Kate sounded kind and patient, even if Thorin was quite sure that the advisor was none too fond of the idea of having a servant for her own. For just a moment the tone of voice reminded him of his own mother, who had the habit to address servants in the same manner. What he heard here was a queen speaking. Kate was acting well, he would have to admit. She acted so well that she would almost fool him as well. He would have been had he not known her as he did.

‘Yes, my lady.’ Thorin turned just in time to see the girl bow. She caught his glance, blushed a deep crimson red and then all but fled from the room. The dwarf would guess that she was only a few years younger than Kate. By these people’s reckoning she would be counted as an adult, if things had not changed too much since Thorin had last been in this region. Yet all he saw was a young, naïve girl when he looked at her. And when he looked at Kate Andrews, he saw a woman, even though there might only three or four years in age difference between them. Why was that, he wondered.

‘Something the matter?’ Kate asked. She was looking at him indirectly, using the mirror above the dressing table as she quickly braided her hair.

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her reflection and the back of her head. ‘Should there be?’

One corner of Kate’s mouth curled up. ‘You’re looking at that wall as if it has gravely offended you. I’m half surprised the whole thing has not yet collapsed with the force of that scowl. What’s wrong?’

Honesty might be the best course. ‘The Master’s cowardice,’ he replied curtly.

Kate nodded thoughtfully. ‘He’s scared of Smaug,’ she said. ‘It’s a shame that he cannot see that it might be good for his precious economy if he actually got off his altogether far too fat backside and helped us to kill the bloody beast.’ She snorted. ‘Things are not all that different from how they are at home,’ the woman observed. ‘Mankind is the same everywhere. As soon as it appears their economy is in danger…’ She trailed off, yanking her own hair when it refused to do her bidding.

Thorin smiled. ‘Let me do that?’ He really knew he shouldn’t do this; the last thing he needed was to become even closer to Kate than he already was. But keeping his distance had not truly worked and they were friends after all. He was allowed to.

Kate still didn’t look at him, but she temporarily seemed to have forgotten that he could see her face in the mirror. There was a brief flicker of alarm, but then she pulled that what-do-I-care-for-the-consequences face  and she nodded. ‘Sure.’

But Thorin had seen the alarm and it hurt. Was his touch really so repulsing to her? He found that hard to believe, since they were good friends. Kate may be a better actress than the dwarf had given her credit for at first, but no one could act that well. He simply refused to believe that. No, there must be another explanation for her behaviour. And so he told himself to get a grip, although his mind seemed to use both Kate’s words and voice, and took the proffered hairbrush.

‘He will help us, though,’ the dwarf said, picking up where they had left off.

‘Give us provisions, yes, new clothes too maybe,’ Kate replied. ‘But no men. And if there’s any possibility at all, let’s get out of here as soon as we possibly can. I may be a coward, but Lord Erland creeps me out.’

 _Lord Erland is the coward, never you_. He knew better than to say that out loud. He would not give her another reason to believe that he had more than friendship on his mind where she was concerned. But it was true. Kate may think herself a coward, and she was in some aspects, but she was brave enough to stand in the face of danger, to stand and not run away. She had even greeted orcs and armed elves with insult. Those were not the actions of a coward to Thorin. ‘He is a scheming man,’ he confirmed.

Kate snorted. ‘And there’s an understatement if ever I heard one.’

Thorin made an end to the braid and tied it up with the leather strip he had tossed her that first morning in Bag End. No matter what happened to them, Kate’s belongings had the habit of staying with her. There was something oddly reassuring about that. ‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘You should get some rest,’ he told her. ‘It has been a long day.’

She turned around and frowned. ‘And what about practising what you preach? I know you dwarves are supposed to be so strong you can do without the sleep, but you look rather exhausted to me.’

‘I’ll sleep in a chair,’ he told her. He had been wondering what to do with that situation from the moment on that he had seen the room. The bed was doubtlessly large enough for both of them, but that would complicate the situation and so Thorin rather refrained from using it at the same time as Kate did. The chair did not look too uncomfortable anyway.

‘You are insane,’ Kate told him and suddenly he found himself on the receiving end of a disapproving stare she must have learned from her eldest brother; it was practically the same as Dori’s. ‘Listen, I don’t like this whole circus any more than you do, but we are in this situation now and I am not evicting you from the first real bed since what, Bag End? Anyway, what do you think Inga will do when she comes in and sees us not sharing a bed?’ she added as an afterthought. ‘She will have told the whole town before you can even say Erebor. Like it or not, this is what we have to deal with.’

Her words confused him. Was she inviting him into her bed? Well, Mahal knew she didn’t mean it like that – nothing was probably further from her mind – but she did display a concern for him that he knew should not touch him as it did. Kate did care. It wasn’t in the way that he wanted her to, but it was proof that their friendship had recovered from the blow he had dealt it by kissing her, even if that really had been the only thing he could reasonably have done at the time.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked her.

Kate replied with a glare. ‘Of course I am. And, just in case you had forgotten, it was your idea to pose as a couple. I didn’t take you for the kind of man to chicken out.’ She got into the bed and pulled the blankets over her. ‘Anyway, the soprano threat still stands,’ she added with a smirk. ‘And the same happens if you have the nerve to steal my blankets.’

The quip made him chuckle. ‘Do not worry on that account.’

‘Good,’ Kate said. ‘Blow out the candles, will you?’ She snuggled deeper under the blankets. ‘If we are going to pretend we are married, you might as well do the husband’s job.’ Her eyes were already fluttering shut. She must be exhausted, which was not very surprising. Thorin himself had slept in the barrel he had been stuffed away in, but he too now felt the fatigue. The game of politics must have worn him out. Or maybe it was just that there was a warm and soft bed available that made him want to close his eyes and sleep until morning, undisturbed by elves, orcs or any attackers. The prospect was tempting, more than he had believed possible. He had not slept in a soft bed for many years and he could not say that he had truly missed it. He never had the time to worry about such trivial things, not when the responsibility for an entire people rested on his shoulders. But that did not mean he would decline when a good bed was offered to him, even if he had to share it with the advisor.

And even that was nothing too new. He had slept with her in his arms before and neither of them had commented on it before. Admittedly that had been before the kiss, but the only real difference was now that they would do the sleeping in a real bed instead of a straw mattress or on the cold ground with just a thin bedroll underneath them.

Kate’s voice in his head once again told him to get a freaking grip. And so he downed the last remnants of his wine, blew the candles and got into the bed. Kate seemed to have drifted off and it wasn’t long before the dwarf king did the same thing.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the burning Mirkwood. The flames were leaping high and Thorin could feel their heat. A dream, he knew vaguely. At least he hoped it was one. It felt very real and the flames were as hot as they would be in real life. There was something very disturbing about this.

And he knew this place. It was the small clearing in front of the shelter he had all but dragged Kate to, carried her to after she had lost consciousness. This was the place where he had fought his final fight with Azog, where he had killed that Defiler for once and for all. But that was all over and done with, wasn’t it?

Thorin was quite familiar with nightmares. He’d had them for years after Smaug had taken the Mountain and after Azanulbizar as well. He had relived the horrors of those days thousand times over at the very least and sometimes he could not even tell that he was dreaming at all until the sounds of his own cries woke him. Fortunately they never seemed to plague him while he was still on the road. He slept too lightly then, always prepared to wake up at any sound that might indicate that there was danger coming. Nightmares only came when he could afford to sleep deeply and that had been months ago, before the quest had even begun. Even in Beorn’s house he had not found any real rest, although he knew he had only himself to blame for it. He should not have read the book if he wanted any peace of mind.

This had to be a nightmare, because somewhere deep down he knew he was lying in a bed in Esgaroth. But the dream was very vivid, very real and it was hard to tell dream from reality. The flames hot and the air was dry, making his throat ache when he breathed. But he did not truly have the time to ponder it all. Azog walked into his line of sight. And he was every bit as frightening and threatening as he had ever been, chilling Thorin to the bone.

‘ _Did you think you could outrun me, Thorin, son of Thráin_?’ Azog’s smirk seemed more threatening than it had seemed in real life. ‘ _Did you not think I would come to find you_?’

The dwarf king recognised those words. They had been spoken as well when this confrontation had taken place in real life. He knew them, knew what followed them. Something told him that this was exactly as before. _But they are not dead. Fíli and Kíli are not dead. They’re alive. Azog is dead. He can never hurt them now._

He clenched his fingers around Orcrist and calmed his breathing. He would not be fooled now, nor would he be tempted to look over his shoulder. If everything was as it had been before, then Kate was there. He would not need to look to confirm. It was the law of this strange dream world. And he would turn this all in his favour. He would stop the nightmare from being a nightmare, because he knew his sister-sons were safe and he knew this would end with Azog’s death.

The Defiler looked at a point behind Thorin. The dwarf strongly suspected it was Kate he was looking at. This was confirmed as the smirk widened. ‘ _I can’t let her live of course_ ,’ he taunted. ‘ _Not now she is carrying your child_.’

Something was wrong, something was different. This was not what had been said before. _She could be carrying your child even as we speak_. That was what should have been said. He remembered every small detail from that day and he could have recalled the words in his sleep. Mahal knew that was what he was doing now. All of Azog’s taunts – the ones about Kate, the ones about his inability to keep his sister-sons safe from harm – had been burned into his memory, never to leave him alone again. And he had accepted that. They were not the worst memories he had and he could handle it without too much trouble. He had to handle them or go insane otherwise. And going mad would not get him any nearer the Mountain.

Neither would losing focus now, but he could not have stopped himself from swivelling around to look at the advisor he knew to be lying unconscious in the shelter even if he wanted to. It was reflex, instinct.

Kate was there, as he had known in advance. She looked every bit the same as she had when this had been happening for real, with just a small difference. The woman was pale, unconscious, injured and undeniably and very visibly pregnant. And that, he knew, was not something that had been when this had been reality. Kate was not carrying any baby, and she was certainly not carrying his.

But this was a dream world and he must have been thinking too much about a relationship that could never be if he now started to imagine things like this. But even if, by some miracle, he really would have been married to his advisor, then he would never have been so irresponsible as to get her pregnant whilst they still were on the road. He would have left her at Beorn’s or in Rivendell, although he’s not too sure about the latter.

But none of that mattered now. It was not real and therefore it was absolutely and undeniably irrelevant. But that was just the point. In this dream world it was relevant. It was a strange logic, but for some reason it made sense to him.

‘You do not touch her.’ The words came out in a growl, but they might have done that anyway, whether Kate was really his wife or not. All that pretence must have made him lose sight of what was real and what wasn’t and that was paying off now, if it could be called that. Nevertheless he held Orcrist so tight his muscles were starting to protest the treatment.

Azog laughed. It was a sound that made his skin crawl. He remembered that laugh. It was the same one as he’d heard only seconds before Thrór had been murdered. And that was not a treatment he was anxious to see repeated on the company advisor, even less so now that she was with child. His child.

The notion was new and strange and utterly bewildering. But it was not as alarming as it was supposed to be and that was a realisation that he could very well have done without. _It isn’t real. Don’t be distracted._

This whole dream was strange. He knew it was a dream, yet at the same time he was in it and he would have to fight, if only stop the nightmare from turning into one for real. And if that meant he had to kill Azog again, then that was what he would do.

‘ _You think you can stop me_?’ the Defiler mocked him.

‘ _I have done it before_ ,’ Thorin snarled. ‘ _You will not touch her_.’

It was a challenge he realised too late. And Azog had never been known to back down from those. He lived for them. But Thorin now knew that the orc could be defeated. He had done it once already and he could do it again. And he was not going to let that filth near the advisor.

His resolve lasted all of ten seconds. That was the time it took Azog to bridge the distance between them and knock Thorin off his feet with his mace before he had even come within Orcrist’s reach. He could feel he was flying through the air and then the ground rushed up to meet him. The fall left him aching and breathless and for a moment he was unable to do anything except fight for air, because the wind had literally been knocked out of him when Azog had swung him through the air as if he was nothing more than a rag doll.

When he could do something more than gasp for air, it was already too late. Azog was standing over the motionless body of the advisor, holding her very own sword right above where her heart must be. He only took the time to smirk triumphantly at his foe before he brought the weapon down.

Thorin Oakenshield screamed.

 

***

 

Kate’s eyes fluttered open and for a moment she lay motionlessly, catching her breath and trying to calm the frantic heartbeats. _A dream_ , she thought. _It was only a dream, not real. Calm down_. The words became a mantra, but it was a soothing mantra, because the longer she thought them at herself, the more she started to realise that there really was nothing to fear. She was in a room in a house in Lake-town and the night was quiet and peaceful. There were neither battle cries nor screams of the dying.

The silence in that way was comforting and it was a relief to realise that it had been a dream and not reality. _But it could be_ , some voice in the back of her head pointed out. _It could be, someday soon, when the Battle of the Five Armies is raging over the fields before the Mountain._

Kate shuddered and shed the blanket, too restless to remain in the bed. She was awake now anyway and going back to sleep would almost certainly be out of the question. And tossing and turning might wake the king who was still in somewhat of a coma, or at least that was what it looked like. He was lying on his back, mouth half open as he snored softly, out cold. The advisor could see it by the light of the dying fire and the moonlight coming in from the window. She tried and failed not to smile at the sight of it. Thorin could be downright terrifying if he chose to be, but when he was lying like this, it was rather difficult to imagine that he was a force to be reckoned with when awake.

He did not stir as she left the bed they were forced to share and Kate was glad of it. She wasn’t sure she felt she could share with anyone what she had just dreamed of. Yes, it may be only a dream now, but it could be so much more and that was what made her blood run cold and made icy shivers go down her spine.

 _Get a grip, Andrews. You’re not some snivelling baby_. With that she pulled herself together and all but marched over to the desk at the window, where Inga had left a tray with two jars and two goblets. One of the jars was filled with wine, the other with water and it was the last one the advisor wanted now. _No need to get drunk. You need a clear head_.

The wine was tempting though, but Kate firmly shook her head and took the other jug. Her mind was too slow from sleep already, even if the waking up had been a rather quick process. She poured herself a goblet of the water and then drank half of it in one long swallow. She didn’t know exactly why, but it helped her to calm down again. Maybe it was the familiarity of the action, knowing that her mother had always given her a glass of water when she’d had a bad dream. The memory made her smile, even if it was laced with sadness.

And this had been a particularly bad dream, the likes of which she had never had before. And the worst thing about it was that, at the time, she had not been able to tell if it was real or not. She had been on a plain, a field of some kind, but it was just rocky ground and nothing grew on it. But it was not empty. The field had turned into a battlefield, with orcs, wargs, dwarves, elves and men fighting. Eagles were swooping low over her head, diving down every now and then to remove orcs and wargs alike from the battlefield. In her dream she was glad that they were there.

The battle was mostly over already when the dream began. There was still fighting on the edges of the field and there were some skirmishes somewhere as well, but it was obvious that the good guys had won the day; the field was littered with the corpses of orcs and wargs and the part of their army that wasn’t dead or too wounded to move was running from the field of battle. It was no strategic retreat, it was a full-out flight.

And Kate was glad of it. When she looked down at herself she realised she was clad in armour she did not recognise and she was holding Excalibur. Both her armour and her sword were covered in blood and with something of a shock the company advisor realised that she had been in the battle and that she had killed. The thought made her stomach turn and she threw up, just like she had done in Goblin-town.

The Battle of the Five Armies. That must have been what this was. It all added up: the orcs, the dwarves, the elves, the men of Lake-town and Dale and the eagles. Five armies and the dead of all sides lay side to side on the ground. Death did not care whether it took the good or the bad and even though the orcs made up most of the dead, they were not the only ones to have perished.

It was only then that she realised that she was alone here. Her friends, her family, they were nowhere to be seen. Where were they? Were they still alive and unharmed, wounded or, heaven forbid, dead? It frustrated and frightened her that she had no memory of how she had come to be here or what had become of any of her companions. There was no memory of anything at all from before the moment she had “woken” in this place, nothing at all.

There was nothing to be done but search, because what other option did she have? She sheathed Excalibur and started to make her way over the field. Most people had left this place alone, but some were already searching for wounded, for survivors. The battle was well and truly over now. But the relief was pushed away by worry and the worry in turn was quickly banished by panic as she could not find one single familiar face. There were dwarves searching for wounded, but their faces were unfamiliar and Kate could see from the glances they shot at her that they did not know who she was or what she was doing here. She would not know the answer to that question herself.

 _Where are you?_ The question became a constant mantra in her head, but there was no answer, nothing at all. The longer she searched, the more anxious she became. She did not even exactly know who it was that she meant by _you_ , but she was sure that any familiar face would be welcome to her now, as long as they were not dead. _Please, please, be alive!_

Fear and panic were gripping her by the throat, making it hard to breathe as she all but ran over the field. Had she been awake, she might have known that by running she might miss out on people on the ground that she might know, but she was dreaming and that world followed its own logic.

Her feet led her to a place that seemed to be in the very middle of the field and only then did she look down. She immediately wished that she hadn’t, because she recognised three very familiar shapes. They lay on the ground where they had fallen, motionlessly, as if they were marionettes whose strings had been cut, leaving the people attached to them with no possibility of getting up again. And someone had cut their strings to life. Kate had seen far too much death on this journey already, enough to recognise it when she happened upon it. And these three people were dead and their corpses told their story.

Fíli had fallen first. There was an arrow sticking out of his neck and his hands had clasped the blasted thing, as if he had been of a mind to pull it out. Kate could not tell how his last moments had been and she did not particularly want to know either.

Kíli had gone next. Kate could see he had been trying to reach his brother and he had been panicking, given the fact that he had apparently dropped his bow. The weapon was lying several meters away from him on the ground, half obscured from view by an orc body that now lay on it. Whoever it was that had put an end to Kíli’s life, he must have been a coward, because he had attacked from behind, literally stabbing him in the back. It made Kate want to scream in anger, but she found that the tears in her eyes also seemed to have blocked her throat. Not a sound came out.

Her eyes then drifted to Thorin. He must have fallen last, for his body had fallen half over those of his sister-sons. Someone had run him through, but the blade that had ended his life was nowhere in sight. His eyes were still open, but they were empty, lifeless. The soul had gone. Those eyes would never again glare daggers at anyone, would never again make anyone run for the hills without a second thought, would never again sparkle with mirth at inappropriate jokes in even less appropriate places.

It was the last straw, she supposed. Her knees buckled under her and she crashed to the ground. Whatever it was that had blocked her throat was instantly gone and she screamed out her failure to the uncaring skies.

With that she had woken, bathing in sweat and with her heart beating so frantically that any doctor was bound to call it unhealthy. And now she was staring out over the sleeping town that lay in the shadow of the very Mountain they would try to reclaim from a dragon. But it had not been the dragon the dream had been about, it had been about the battle that would follow it and the price that would be paid if she failed to change the outcome.

It had not been something she had been paying much mind before now. There was always another crisis, something far more important to concern herself with. The retaking of the Mountain, the killing of Smaug, the Battle of the Five Armies, all those things had been pushed to the back of her mind for another time, a time that they would not be in danger of getting slaughtered by orcs, captured by elves or whatever it was that happened to them at the time. The only thing she did know about all aforementioned things was that she would try her best to stop them from happening the way they happened in the book, because that was a road she did not want to walk. And maybe it was deliberately that she spared it so little thought, as if by ignoring it, she could stop it from coming true. _If only_.

She had not even discussed it with Thorin, not even during their many strategy talks. It may be strange, but she had just not brought it up and Thorin had never expressed a wish to discuss it either, although in his case it might be logical. She was not quick to forget the haunted look in his eyes after he had finished reading the book. It was traumatising to him, although he would probably rather die than admit that.

 _Wrong thing to think, Andrews_ , she reminded herself as she winced at the thought of Thorin being dead. That was not the kind of thought she liked to entertain right now. It had been bad enough when he was just an arrogant bastard with his I-am-the-king-and-you’ll-do-as-I-say attitude, but they had grown so much closer since. Too close, probably. Kate was frankly quite alarmed as she realised that sharing a room with Thorin somehow felt so perfectly natural and normal. That could not be a good sign by any means. It must be because they had spent so much time sleeping near the other on the road. She had simply grown used to it.

 _Yeah, keep it up, girl_ , she told herself sarcastically. _You might even convince yourself in time_. Not that that was likely anyway. As it was, she was far too aware of her own feelings. The kiss had done that, she guessed. Why, oh why could he not have thought of another way to silence her?

But if she wanted the question answered, she’d better save it for some other time. Thorin was no longer sleeping quietly. His snores had turned to moans and he was tossing and turning, quite obvious that he was in some form of distress to anyone with a brain. ‘No, no, no, no, _no_!’ The sound of it was almost pleading. No, forget that, Thorin Oakenshield was pleading and that was something she had not thought she would ever hear. The dwarf king did not beg.

 _Another one with nightmares_ , Kate thought wryly. For a moment she was grounded into place, torn between going to him and wake him up to snap him out of whatever vision haunted his sleep or to stand here and wait for the nightmare to end. Her instincts were screaming at her to go for the first approach, but her brain warned her against such a course of action. The last time she had woken him unexpectedly had led to her arm nearly being torn loose from her shoulder and she was none too anxious for a repeat.

But he was in pain it seemed and the moans turned to sobs and eventually screams. In the waking world she was quite sure he’d never reveal something he’d regard as weakness and he would be none too pleased to find out she had witnessed this. But good grief, the way he sounded she would say that someone had… died.

 _Shit!_ Because she recalled one other time when Thorin had not cared about showing weakness, just one other time that he’d let his guard down to show emotion. He had even wept and that had been when he had believed that Azog had murdered his nephews. Only such a thing could apparently make such an impact that he would lose control of himself in such a way.

That decided her. Thorin was a friend of her, the best friend she had in this world, and she could not let him suffer through this on his own, especially not since it was not even real and it was well within her power to put an end to it. _Stop being such a coward and get a bloody move on_. With that she planted – although slammed might have been a more accurate description – her goblet down on the desk and marched over to the bed with all the characteristics of a soldier marching to battle.

‘Kate!’

She stopped when she heard her name being called out, halfway between the bed and the desk, temporarily frozen into place. That had been Thorin’s voice and that wasn’t just calling someone’s name. It reminded her of his tone of voice when she had done her fake faint: panic, despair and fear. Only now it was ten times worse. What the hell was he dreaming about that he would be screaming for her the way he did? She had believed that he was reliving the fight with Azog again, when that Defiler had taunted him about his nephews’ death. But this seemed to be of another nature entirely.

 _Well, don’t just stand there_ , she reprimanded herself. _You’re not a cry baby and he needs your help, whether he likes it or not. Get moving._

It was downright ridiculous that she was nervous for this, she told herself as she all but marched over to the bed with big, decisive strides before she could change her mind again. True, Thorin was not going to like it that she had seen this, but he could not honestly have expected her to sleep through this racket, could he?

Kate took a deep breath and gently shook his shoulder. ‘Thorin? Thorin, wake up.’

This had been more than sufficient in the shelter, but it didn’t seem to be doing the job now. Thorin was caught in the web of his nightmare, whatever it was that he was even dreaming about.

‘Thorin.’ Louder this time. ‘You have to wake up now.’

She didn’t really think he’d react to her sternest commander tones, skilfully copied from the master in commanding himself, but she’d have to try it anyway. Results however were non-existent. Apart from the screaming Thorin slept like the dead. The results of the shaking and the talking were the same anyway: such tactics worked on neither the dead nor the dwarf king.

‘Oh, for goodness sake, do you have to be such a stubborn mule as to not wake when you need to?’ she growled, shaking his shoulders in a way no one could possibly describe as gentle. ‘Come on, Thorin, you’ve got to wake up now. Orcs, elves, fire, murder! _Shit_!’ The last word was uttered as she was unceremoniously and forcefully slapped across the face and was sent staggering back until her back hit the wall. ‘Ouch!’

Her back wasn’t the only thing that had acquainted itself with the wall, the same courtesy was also extended to her head, something she did not appreciate for more than one reason. She supposed she should be glad that the walls were not made of stone here, but her skull didn’t seem to be of the opinion this was in some way an improvement.

‘Kate?’ The screaming had stopped and the voice she now heard belonged to a by now very awake Thorin.

‘And good morning to you as well,’ she moaned.

She was no longer seeing stars and her vision became clearer again so she could see him sitting up in the bed, looking both worried and confused. The first emotion was familiar, the second wasn’t. ‘What’s happening?’

 _What do you think?_ Kate still was concerned, but the irritation was woken about roughly the same time that his hand had come into contact with her face. Her cheeks stung and the back of her head felt like someone had swung a hammer against it. ‘Your right hand happened,’ she growled. ‘Bloody hell, Thorin, I was only trying to wake you. It’s not like I was swinging a sword your way!’ But someone in his dream might have done that. Thorin was a warrior after all, with a warrior’s instincts and reflexes. Reacting to someone shaking his shoulder, shouting murder in his ears, yes, that would cause such a reaction. It didn’t mean she liked it any better. ‘The things I do for friends,’ she muttered angrily. ‘But do anything like that again, Thorin Oakenshield, or so help me I will make that fight with Azog look like a walk in the park to you!’ Her mind’s insights seemed trouble finding their way to her mouth at all.

At least her tongue-lashing seemed to make him realise that he may have been in the wrong with the way he acted, even if it indeed was on instinct. His brain finally caught up with his body and he all but jumped out of bed. ‘Did I hurt you?’

Kate was tempted to roll her eyes. ‘What does it look like?’ she countered. Good grief, Thorin wasn’t known for being stupid, but he must have his head still stuck in whatever dream it was he’d had. Because she had seen that haunted expression before and it had never meant well at all. Something had spooked him badly and for some reason she had featured in it as well. And that might even be the biggest mystery of them all. Why would he dream about her? Oh, she didn’t try to fool herself into believing that it was in the way a part of her still wanted him to do, but she had been in it and she had never been able to handle unsolved mysteries. She was too curious for that, she supposed.

She was still looking at Thorin and she could see the realisation dawning. ‘My apologies,’ he said, but the words sounded formal and strained. Ten to one he was just ashamed. Had she been in his shoes, she might have been too. ‘Sit down.’ It was more of a command than a well-meant advise, but she had little choice anyway, because he was already leading her to the nearest chair and all but pushed her into it as he went to pour her a goblet of what she hoped was water, but was most likely wine. Well, she was not quite in the mood to argue tonight. Not anymore anyway.

‘Thanks,’ she said as he handed her the goblet. She took a long swallow, tasting wine indeed.

‘My apologies,’ Thorin said again. The distress had not yet worn off and he was restless, almost looking like he would rather pace the room than stand still. ‘I should not have acted as I did.’

Kate grimaced. ‘It’s not like you were actually conscious enough to realise what you were doing.’ Her head was telling her to shout at him some more for slapping her as he had done, but Kate told it to shut up, which was a lot easier said than done. ‘What were you dreaming about anyway?’

That had been the wrong thing to ask. She could see the shutters come down. ‘The goblins,’ he replied curtly.

Kate’s instincts were not always spot on, but this time she was fairly sure that the knowledge her brain tried to impart on her was right. _He’s lying_.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _I cannot talk about it, least of all to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of progress in this chapter. Don’t worry, it’s coming. Next time: we will get some explanations and Elvaethor shows up again. Do those things have anything to do with one another? Who knows.  
> Until then, please review. I really love to hear your opinion!


	55. Eye-opener

_Something wasn’t sitting right with me and I knew myself well enough to know that this had everything to do with Thorin and the lie he had, for whatever reason, told me. I don’t know what it is with these Durin descendants, but none of them seem to be capable of telling plausible lies. It was like that with Thorin and his claim that he had been dreaming about the goblins and it was exactly like that when you, Thoren and Thráin, claimed that “nothing” had happened when the kitchens were in complete disarray – there was even dough clinging to the ceiling, and until today I am not quite sure how you even managed that in the first place – and there was no one else for miles around who could possibly have pulled off such a thing. The fact that there was dough and honey on your hands and faces was a dead giveaway as well. To this day I am still not quite sure why you were so convinced I was going to believe you._

_Of course your father did not exactly have honey on his hands to betray his lies, but there were quite a few other tells as well, tells which you lot all seemed to have inherited, which made my job at times considerably easier. That emotionless mask was one such tell, him avoiding meeting my eyes was another. The moment I had asked what the matter was, the shutters came down and he would not share anything with me anymore, especially not the truth of his dreams._

_And it hurt. I had believed that I was becoming one of the few persons he trusted enough to show weakness to, because he had done that on several occasions already. Good grief, he had even let down the mask when he believed Fíli and Kíli had died and part of me had been hoping that he would let me in more often from then on. To be shut out in such a manner was painful on so many different levels._

_Still, I think I did a good job of hiding what I felt. I gave him a curt nod, but decided to not tell him about the dream I’d had, as I had been planning on doing before that. A childish resentful part of me was of the opinion that if he did not think me someone worth trusting, I didn’t need to extend that courtesy to him either. Trust was something that worked both ways in my opinion, and it was something I felt strongly about as well. My father had been rather good at lying about practically everything and that had left me rather sensitive about that subject. I was torn between wanting to shout at his face and wanting to slap it, or save myself the dilemma and just do both for good measure, but that was not going to solve anything and so I managed a ‘That’s bad. Try not to hit me the next time’ before I downed the last remnants of the wine and went back to bed. Going back to sleep however was quite another matter entirely…_

 

By the time the first rays of sunlight came in through the window, Kate Andrews was done lying in bed. She had not gotten one more minute of sleep, even though she thought she had put on a good show of trying to make it look like she was. Thorin had left her alone at least and that was worth a good deal, because Kate was not quite in the mood to talk to him, not after his lie. The dwarf king had not gone back to bed until later. She had to keep her eyes closed to not give away that she was not doing any sleeping herself, but she could hear him moving. If she had heard right, then the jug with wine would be completely empty by now.

Eventually Thorin had gone back to bed as well, but it had taken until just before dawn to fall back asleep again and he had been tossing and turning for hours before that. Whatever it was that had plagued him in his dreams, it was bad enough to rob him of his peace of mind. Kate started to think she might know exactly what that felt like.

By the time the sound of the dwarf king’s soft snores started to fill the room, Kate thought it safe to get out and relocate. She didn’t think any other companions would be up yet, so she didn’t bother with the dresses that filled the wardrobe, instead opting on wrapping a shawl around her and slipping on her boots to protect her feet from the cold that had slipped in now that the fire had gone out.

Her head started to clear as she descended the stairs into the house’s main hall. The events of last night still did not make any more sense than before. It all seemed to stand or fall with what it was Thorin had dreamed about and why on earth he had thought it necessary to lie about it. Yes, she knew it was bad, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, then why didn’t he just say so? A refusal to tell the truth would not please her at all, but at least it would be honest. Why had he lied?

Her mind was going around in circles and there were no answers forthcoming. Sometimes her life would be so much easier if she could open up some kind of door in his head and look at what it was that he was thinking. It might stop them from having this kind of situation over and over again. Thorin still was as much of a mystery as he had ever been. There were times she could have sworn she knew him, but then there was a moment and he proved her wrong about everything she had ever thought about him. And it frustrated her to no end.

She was the first downstairs and it was chilly in the icy hall, so she made a beeline for the fireplace to get the fire going again. There was wood and one could simply not live in the wilds for so long without learning how to make a fire from next to nothing. Those skills never went amiss and it did not take her long before a few hesitant first flames licked away at the wood.

She turned around, mildly pleased with her own work, and suddenly found that she had not been the first one in the hall after all. At the table, watching her with interest, sat the very familiar figure of Elvaethor. By the look of things he’d been here for some while, but she had never heard him enter and she had been awake for most of the night. And this unnerved her. He should not even be here to begin with, so why was he in Lake-town, in this house? If he had a tiny bit of common sense, he must realise that he would not be welcomed by her company.

Kate tried to hide the fact that she had been startled by his unexpected presence and conjured up the most dismissive facial expression she could muster. ‘You know, most people knock and wait until they’re admitted into a house before they enter the place,’ she informed him.

‘It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Kate,’ he said pleasantly, ignoring her words entirely. This was not unexpected, but it was annoying.

The mystery of why Thorin had acted as he had was well and truly gone from her mind now as it focused on working out what Elvaethor was doing here. Thorin had at some point in time referred to him like a stinging insect you couldn’t get your hands on, and it would seem he had a very good point with that. Like the insect, there was just no getting rid of him. He kept coming back, no matter what they did. It would not stop Kate from kicking him out of the house regardless, if she got as much as half a chance.

‘I can’t say that the feeling is entirely mutual,’ she replied curtly. ‘What are you doing here?’ Thorin’s sometimes appalling lack of manners must be catching, she observed, or else the sleepless night had some part to play in this. Either way, she could not care less. No rule she had ever heard of dictated that one had to be polite to a burglar who just broke into a house that wasn’t his.

Elvaethor seemed wholly unimpressed by her barely concealed anger. ‘My king is less than pleased  that you and your companions escaped from his dungeons,’ he informed her, sipping something from a goblet Kate was quite sure she had not given to him. Bloody elves. Politeness must not be something that was valued a lot among elfkind.

‘And you have told him which part you played in that escape?’ she shot back. At the elf guard’s silence she nodded. ‘Thought not.’ She frowned, wondering why he was even in Lake-town. Lainor was likely to have sent back a messenger to inform his king that he had found the renegade prisoners, which would account for Elvaethor being here. It might be his job to negotiate with Lord Erland to hand them over and bring them back to Mirkwood. ‘You’re the one to come banging at the door to demand us back, are you not?’ She snorted. ‘I wonder how hard you will be trying.’ A small voice told her it was not a good idea to alienate this elf, but it didn’t change the fact that he still gave her the chills. She could not work him out. He appeared to be wanting to help them, yet at the same time he was every inch the annoying and arrogant elf who had been one of their captors.

And there had to be some secret agenda he had. If there was one thing she had learned about the Mirkwood elves during her involuntary stay there, it would be that they did not do something unless there was something in it for them. Elvaethor was bound to have an interest in this quest that went beyond wanting a happy ending to some made-up love story. Elves may be silly, but Kate highly doubted they were _that_ silly, especially the elves from Mirkwood. Tolkien had described them as wary of strangers and that they most certainly were. Elvaethor thus far seemed to be the obvious exception. What she didn’t know was why he was the exception, but she had every intention of finding out here and now.

She wrapped her shawl tighter around her, only too aware of the fact that she was in no way appropriately dressed to be receiving any guests. Elvaethor fortunately was not the type to stare at a woman’s bosom – he was an elf, after all – but she herself felt rather exposed and uncomfortable.

‘It is true that my king sent me here to negotiate with the Master of this town,’ Elvaethor admitted. He seemed perfectly relaxed; he was all but lounging in his chair. He even had the guts to consume an apple that Kate was quite sure had come from the fruit bowl on the table he was now sitting at. It was this relaxed posture that gave her the creeps.

But she’d rather die than let him see her unease. ‘I have half a mind to shout for help in removing your person from this house,’ she informed him icily. Once again, Thorin’s example was worth a great deal.

‘Only half a mind, my lady?’ The sodding elf even sounded amused.

And no matter how uncomfortable she was at the moment, this also triggered her anger and that, she decided, was definitely a safer thing to be feeling at the present time. ‘The other half is feeling strong urges to kick you out myself,’ she retorted, even though she knew that this was not a true possibility. Elvaethor was a warrior; he was trained to fight and would have a lot more bodily strength than she could ever hope to possess. Still, it was the thought that counted. ‘And I might still do so, unless you tell me something that I did not already know, like the reason you entered this house without permission.’ And if it was to study the non-existent relationship again, she would kick him out herself, no matter what it took. Heaven knew this elf deserved a good kick in the behind for annoying the hell out of her during the journey north.

 _But he’s also helped us escape_. The thought wriggled its way into her head, effectively confusing her again. If she was not careful, this would soon be her default setting. What was his game? What did he want?

‘You don’t appreciate my presence?’ the captain of the guard asked.

‘Not as long as you have not answered every question to my full satisfaction,’ Kate replied as dismissively as she could. She was pretending to be married to a king, so she might as well act the part. And it was an easy thing to be doing, because she was already angry. And anger was always a great help in finding that exact right tone of voice.

Elvaethor, for some reason, only seemed to find her amusing. ‘Then I am at your disposal, my lady,’ he informed her, after which he took another enthusiastic bite out of his apple. She did not recall giving him permission to actually do that.

 _If only you were that easily disposed of_ , Kate thought wryly. ‘Does that mean you’ll give me a straight answer if I ask you a question?’ she asked warily. Elves weren’t known for doing that. They seemed to have beating around the bush perfected into an art. In fact, they kept going around the bush so long that the listener soon lost any willingness he may have had to listen long before the elves were getting to the point. Elvaethor so far seemed no exception. She had been fooled by his act of happy-endings-loving lunatic act, but that had been in the midst of an escape and admittedly she had not been really in the mood to think it all through then. She didn’t have the time to press the point either. But since then she’d had some time to think and the longer she thought about it, the more confusing it became.

Elvaethor did not really seem to hate dwarves, but he did not seem overly fond of them either. He found them fascinating, Kate guessed, which was why he kept coming back asking questions none of them wanted him to ask. He was curious and intrigued, especially by the show Thorin and Kate had put on for his benefit.

But this did not explain why he went against his king’s orders. He had set them free and Thranduil was bound not to be amused by that particular course of action. The elven king wanted to prevent that the dwarves ever unleashed the dragon and, as Balin had once explained to her, the elves’ worst nightmare was that the dwarves would restore their greatest kingdom of old, because that would mean that they once again were a political power to be reckoned with, not a prospect many elves were looking forward to. Elvaethor would not be too different in that regard. He would be hindering himself by letting the company walk free again.

‘What questions would you ask of me, my lady?’ the elf asked pleasantly. It did not escape Kate’s notice that he failed to answer her question with a simple yes or no, instead answering with a question of his own. Annoying elves. Could it truly be that hard to give one a straight answer for just once?

‘A very simple one,’ she promised, feeling more irritated and uncomfortable by the second. ‘Why did you do it? Why did you set us free?’

The elf appeared confused. ‘Did you not want to be free, Lady Kate?’

 _Nominated in the category of most stupid questions asked is…_ ‘Don’t be daft,’ she told him, all too aware that Elvaethor was once again not answering her question, instead evading it by shooting her a question in return. What was that with elves? Was it genetic? Could they just not help themselves? She dismissed that thought. No, that was not exactly right, because Galas, for all his annoying manners and threats, had seemed straightforward enough when he threatened to have her tortured to get Thorin’s oath never to return and Thranduil did not seem to have too much trouble with telling them exactly what he thought about them either. Maybe this was only something half-decent elves suffered from.

‘Then why do you question my actions?’ Was that elf really as stupid as he sounded or was this just an act? It was always so very hard to tell with the elven kind.

‘It’s not your actions I am questioning, it is your motives,’ Kate pointed out, a little annoyed now. Once again she was giving the explanations and that while she had every intention of making Elvaethor loosen his tongue. He was the one that was supposed to be explaining himself here. She should have known in advance that this would never work out the way she had planned to. ‘It just does not add up. You are not particularly fond of dwarves, so just in case you were planning to treat me with a story of how you wanted to see political balance restored by allowing the dwarves to take back their ancestral home, then you can honestly save your breath.’ She didn’t think he had really been planning on any of that, but she would not really put it past him either. He was after all the same elf who had been going on and on about happy endings. ‘And I am not falling for the happy-endings-excuse either,’ she added quickly, pre-empting the explanation she feared was coming. ‘Just the truth, please.’

It was hard even for her to realise why she was so hell-bent on finding out the truth about this. Curiosity was a huge part of it, she knew. She had been curious from a very young age and had in that way gotten herself into untold trouble, mostly dragging Jacko with her, as long as he was not the one dragging her into things. The elf in front of her was a mystery, one that she seemed very incapable of solving at the moment and if there were few things the company advisor could not stand, then it were unsolved mysteries.

But strangely enough in this case the curiosity was mixed up with concern for the company and the quest, which, she supposed, told her all she needed to know about just how involved she had become in it. Elvaethor appeared to be on their side, but it was not a certainty of a hundred per cent. He was so vague and so obviously reluctant to provide her with the answers she was seeking, that she _had_ to suspect him of having a secret agenda. Only people who had something to hide would behave in such a fashion and as long as she had not found out what this secret agenda was, Elvaethor remained a liability, someone she could not fully trust, even though he had been a tremendous help in their escape.

‘I was not going to tell you either of those, Lady Kate,’ the elf replied. ‘Why would you think so?’

 _Because you’ve done it before, perhaps?_ Kate folded her arms over her chest. When it came to this one she would believe it when she saw it, not earlier. ‘I am still waiting.’ She had done this on occasion at home, mainly with classmates who refused to learn the meaning of the word deadline. It had never been really effective then, but there she had not been commonly mistaken for a queen of Durin’s Folk. Here, for what appeared to be everyone except her own company, she was one. Now that would make for a nice story to tell any future grandchildren she might have. _Yes, granny used to be mistaken for a queen…  When that was, child? Oh, years ago. Where? In a land far, far away. You would never have heard of it, dear._

 _Stop it, Andrews, you’re rambling_ , common sense chimed in and it was right. So Kate broke the habit of a lifetime by listening to it and giving herself a good mental kick in the behind to stay focused. This was not the time and place for letting her guard down. Instead of getting lost in her own thoughts, she fixed Elvaethor with as demanding a stare as she could muster. The elf may be centuries older than she was, but she found she could not really spare it much thought. It was rather easy to ignore when the one of that age behaved like a child.

‘A mutual friend approached me some time ago,’ the elf began, the first sentence in quite some time that did not end with a question mark. ‘He informed me that your company would soon be passing through my king’s realm and that it was of the utmost importance that they would make it through to the other end of the forest.’

Whatever Kate may have expected, this was not it. This only left her with even more questions than she’d already had before this conversation began. ‘And does this friend of yours have a name by any chance?’ she asked sceptically, not sure that she even believed what he was saying now. ‘I hardly think we have any mutual acquaintances.’ She was positively sure that there were none. And she did not think that Thranduil, Galas and Lainor would qualify as friends who wanted nothing better than having the company retake their Mountain, not with all the evidence to the contrary.

Elvaethor smiled, something that made Kate feel altogether uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I believe you do know him, my lady. The wizard, Mithrandir.’

The first truly straightforward reply she got out of him and yet Kate wanted to hit something or, better still, someone. Gandalf was involved in this? Why should she not be as surprised as she was? For as long as she had known him, he had been busy trying to make sure that the real events followed the book at all times and this apparently also applied to the company’s involuntary visit to Thranduil’s dungeons. He had made enough of a ruckus about it when Thorin and she had kept their feet down and had taken another route.

But this, Elvaethor’s explanation, was making a few pieces of the puzzle fall neatly into place. Gandalf, she realised, had truly been concerned for their wellbeing when he urged them to take the northern route. He had only failed to mention that they had nothing much to fear really, because he had already put in place one of his friends to see to it that they reached the other side safely. He had just failed to make mention of this little fact, quite possibly because he knew Thorin’s resolve to try the southern route with its untold – in this case quite literally so – dangers when he learned that the guide Gandalf had arranged for was one of the race he hated so passionately.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re a friend of Gandalf’s?’ she asked incredulously. _And the second nomination in the category of most stupid questions asked goes to…_ Because on second thought, that would not be such a strange notion at all. Yes, Elvaethor was a part of the Establishment, or whatever it was called in these parts, but he was also something of an outsider in Thranduil’s realm, bit of a loner too, she had come to learn during the northward march. He was always curious about seemingly everything and struck her as the type who would hang around Gandalf a lot. He might even be the type to ignore Thranduil’s orders in favour of Gandalf’s, no matter how little sense they often made. ‘Good grief, that does explain a few things.’

Her mind was reeling, not quite ready to fully understand what she had been told. It was a lot to take in, she supposed. As much as this explained, it also conjured up a whole bunch of new questions that were not quite so easily answered. Kate was fairly sure that Elvaethor would support their case and would completely mess up any negotiation with the Master of Lake-town given only half a chance, but it did not explain why he was helping the company. The captain of the guard was an elf after all and he had not given the impression of actually liking the dwarves. He had made that quite clear when he had bothered Thorin about his perceived case of spousal abuse, like he had not really expected anything else of a dwarf. Even if he was doing this on Gandalf’s behalf, this was taking friendship a bit far, going against his own beliefs. Elvaethor was a mystery, an enigma, and she did not think she would ever quite figure him out.

‘I am glad you understand, my lady,’ the elf said.

Kate frowned at him. ‘You could have told this to my husband as well,’ she pointed out. ‘In case it has escaped your notice, he is the one in charge of our quest.’

Elvaethor arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Is he indeed?’

The advisor suppressed the urge to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean and continued as if the elf had not spoken at all. ‘So it is him you need to convince, not me.’ Elvaethor may be on their side, of that she did not really have a doubt, but his presence still made her feel ill at ease and she could not for the life of her figure out his game. Keeping her guard up might be a good idea.

She folded her arms over her chest, suddenly desperate for him to leave. She was still standing here in her nightgown and Elvaethor had finally finished his consummation of the apple – she had not missed out on the fact that he had left the remnants in the fruit bowl – so that his attention was now on her and her alone. Thorin called him an insect, but Kate would call him creepy, despite his good intentions. She was starting to think it was a natural reaction to elves.

‘You still have not told me what your business was here,’ she remembered. ‘I would invite you to either state it or clear out. I do not remember inviting you in.’

Elvaethor got to his feet. ‘I will then “clear out,” my lady,’ he informed her. ‘I thank you for your hospitality.’ He had left the room before Kate could formulate a coherent reply to that.

 

***

 

Thorin had not expected to drift off again, but he was quite sure that it had still been dark when he last closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, the sunlight was streaming in through the window. The sounds of people going about their daily business were drifting in with it, making Thorin believe that it was later than he would have liked. So much for getting up early.

He stole a glance at the other end of the bed, where Kate should be lying. Should was the operative word though. The blankets were thrown back and the bed was empty. The advisor herself was nowhere in sight and Thorin propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of the room. Kate was not in it. Her hair was fairly distinctive and had often before enabled the dwarf to establish where she was. At the moment, it was not in their room and Thorin strongly suspected her of having made a run for it.

Het let himself fall back onto the bed. Last night had been a drama, he would readily admit that. The dream was still vivid in his mind, too vivid, but now it was overshadowed by what had followed it. He had hit Kate with the back of his hand across the face, so forcefully she had been knocked back against the wall. It was a warrior’s instinct and he had still been in the throes of one of the most lifelike nightmares he had suffered from in a long time, but still the fact remained that his actions were nothing short of dishonourable. Hitting women was frowned on in every society, as he had pointed out to Galas not that long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime. Now he had committed the crime of doing so himself. It was hardly a miracle Kate had been about to bite his head off.

But that was not the main reason for her anger, was it? Yes, her voice had reached shouting volume then, but she had calmed shortly after. She seemed to understand what the matter was, even if she had not really said so, not in that many words anyway. _It’s not like you were actually conscious enough to realise what you were doing_. The words were in true Kate style; hardly diplomatic, but comforting in their own unique way. She, for some reason, understood.

It was after that that things had gone wrong. She had asked what it was that he had dreamed about and he, fool that he was, had lied. And Kate was all too aware of that. There was a flash of intuition in her eyes and then the shutters had come down, but not soon enough for him to not see the unadulterated expression of hurt that crossed her face before she carefully shaped it into the blank mask it had been since. _That’s bad. Try not to hit me the next time_. She had all but snapped at him and then she had returned to bed, turning her back on him in the most demonstrative way she could possibly think of, leaving Thorin to ponder his actions.

And he had done a good deal of pondering. He knew himself well enough to know that sleep would elude him for the rest of the night and he had not made a real effort of trying to go back to sleep. Instead he had stared out of the window for what felt like hours, going over the situation again and again, wondering what he could have done differently. _Or wonder, till it drives you mad, what would have followed if you had_. The endless scenarios of what if were filling his head again and of course they were getting him absolutely nowhere.

One thing he was certain of was that he could not have told Kate the truth. The awkwardness between them had only dissolved somewhat and he was in no hurry to bring it back, especially not now they had to spend a lot of time in close proximity to the other. Telling Kate the truth was simply not an option. But the lie had been a bad idea too. Eventually he had to come to the conclusion that there was nothing he could reasonably have done or said that would not have made, as Kate phrased it, their friendship to blow up in their very faces. Sometimes there apparently was no right way to do or say something.

It was not something he liked though and he would fix it if he could, if only because Kate was his advisor and she would not be doing much advising if she was too busy avoiding him, which at least would account – if only partly – for her disappearing act this morning.

He got up then. Thinking about this would get him nowhere and he ought to have more pressing matters on his mind, such as the matter of charming, threatening or bribing the Master of this town into cooperating. He also had a company to check up on. He could not, _would_ not, waste his time on a woman with a short temper when those matters were not yet taken care of. This quest had always been more important than any personal concerns he may have and it was high time that he remembered that and, more importantly, started to act on it, because he certainly had not done so the last few days.

He put on his clothes and descended down the stairs to see if the others were down there. He could hear voices, Kate’s among them, so he assumed he would be one of the last people to be up, not something he planned on turning into a habit. Kate, he realised, was quite vocal and not in a good way. He could not yet make out the words, although he had a strong suspicion that Gandalf was mentioned at least once, but the tone of voice was all the information he needed right now. Kate was in full flow.

Half thinking he would have to break up a fight, he descended the last few stairs two at a time, which was quite the achievement, taking into account that these stairs had been made with much taller people in mind. He meant to burst into the hall, but a very familiar voice, that nonetheless had absolutely no business being here, stopped him from acting on that intention at the last possible moment. ‘I am glad you understand, my lady.’

What was Elvaethor doing here?  As far as Thorin was aware he was still in Mirkwood, still in the process of figuring out how exactly his prisoners had escaped while the keys were still in his own pockets, courtesy of Kate. Well, of course there was one option, but it was not one Thorin liked to entertain, even if it was the most likely, because Thranduil would want his prisoners back before they got the chance to deal out death and judgement to the dragon. Elvaethor was high ranking enough to take care of that business, because Thranduil had always thought himself too far above every race that was not his own. The people of Lake-town would be too far below him to be noticed, the dwarf would wager. He had only come to Erebor very reluctantly back in the day and only because it was a political power to be reckoned with, one he did not want to turn against him. This, this was hardly worthy of his attention.

It did explain Elvaethor’s presence in Esgaroth, but it did not explain his presence in this house. And it did not explain his words to Kate either. She would be understanding of him? Thorin rather doubted that. He took a spot near the door, that was ajar, and peered through it. Elvaethor was sitting at the table and looked at Kate with what appeared to be genuine gratitude, but there was amusement there as well. The advisor was a few meters away from him, still in her nightgown, with only her boots on her feet and a blue scarf wrapped around her against the cold. And even though Elvaethor had thanked her for her understanding, Kate did not look it. Quite the contrary. She gave every impression of trying to glare the elf out of the house.

‘You could have told this to my husband as well,’ Kate said, although she failed to mention what the _this_ was. ‘In case it has escaped your notice, he is the one in charge of our quest.’

Being referred to as Kate’s husband by Kate herself was bittersweet irony, but he forced himself to ignore it, instead focusing on what it was that she was saying. From the way she phrased it, Thorin would say that the elf, for whatever reason, had come here with a specific piece of information that he delivered to Kate rather than to Thorin. And that might not be such a strange move at all, the dwarf thought. He knew himself well enough to know that he would not give the elf the chance to speak before he, probably literally, kicked him out of his temporary house. Kate lacked the physical strength to do so or she’d have done it long ago, if that stance was anything to go by. It made him wonder why she had admitted the elf into the house in the first place.

‘Is he indeed?’ Elvaethor asked. The tone was carefully stripped of all emotion, but Thorin read his incredulity in the raised eyebrow.

The elf was far more observant than Thorin would like. He saw things. Kate was finishing her sentence as if Elvaethor had never spoken at all, but the dwarf would not dismiss this notion so easily, if only because he was very aware of how many of his decisions of late had been influenced by the advisor and her book. He was the leader, the one his men looked to for guidance, but somehow, without him really noticing, Kate had become a subtle force in her own right and he doubted she was even aware of it. Her behaviour proved that.

‘You still have not told me what your business was here,’ the woman informed the elf icily in a way that reminded Thorin oddly of himself when he had given his younger sister-sons a lecture after they had gotten into some mischief or other. ‘I would invite you to either state it or clear out. I do not remember inviting you in.’

The elf just smiled serenely. ‘I will then “clear out,” my lady,’ he said. ‘I thank you for your hospitality.’ He got up and left the hall by the front door, leaving Kate in the middle of the room. The advisor was positively steaming. She glared at the door that had fallen shut behind the elf and then turned around to the dying fire to tend to it. Her sharp movements betrayed that she was still angry and although he was perfectly justified in entering this room, Thorin thought better of it and instead ascended the stairs again to check on his company. It would seem that they were not out of bed after all and some of them might still be ill.

One look into the hobbit’s room taught him that the burglar was far too ill still to come out. His words were muffled and he was both shivering and sweating at the same time. When Thorin graciously offered to find a servant that could bring him some food he responded with a ‘Thag you very buch’ that was interrupted by a sneeze. For what could well be the first time since the dwarf had met Mr Baggins, he felt a bit sorry for his current predicament. It was after all his work that had freed them from Thranduil’s dungeons and he had been the only one not in a barrel, resulting in exposure to the cold water and chilly wind that had caused his illness. Gandalf may indeed have known what he was doing when he had selected the burglar. Now there was a novel idea.

‘Rest, Master Baggins,’ he said brusquely. ‘I will have food brought to you.’ He made a mental note to also ask for tea, a brew of which the hobbit was particularly fond. It was not an apology for unfair behaviour towards Bilbo Baggins, but he might label it a peace offering. That he could do.

Bombur was feeling well enough for breakfast – no surprise there – and Óin had declared himself healed enough to come out of bed as well. Thorin didn’t think he was well enough and said so, but the healer pretended to have another fit of deafness and walked past him with a stern look directed at his king. King he may be, but his company did not seem to do much of the obeying. Kate must have set them a bad example.

He had waited to check on Balin, because he wanted to take his time with that. The elderly dwarf was a dear friend and Thorin would not mind looking after him for a while, especially if that enabled him to stay upstairs, so that he could evade Kate’s open hostility for a while longer. 

Balin was still in bed and almost just the same shade as his hair, which was decidedly not a good sign. Thorin had seen corpses that looked healthier and he had unfortunately seen more than his fair share of those during his life. For the first time it started dawning on him that Balin might not always be there, as he had sometimes almost started believing, and that this barrel escape might well prove fatal for him in the end. The book did not mention such a thing, but the book did not always make mention of everything. It was the very nature of it.

His friend’s eyes were closed and Thorin assumed he was sleeping, so he prepared to silently retreat from the room again to let the old dwarf get the rest he so desperately needed. He was already half out of the room when Balin’s voice stopped him from exiting. ‘Come in, laddie.’

‘You need your rest,’ he said bluntly. ‘I will come back later.’

‘Nonsense,’ his friend said. He tried to sit up, but the simple action cost him a lot of effort and Thorin could see the sweat form on his brow.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him to keep the heat in the room rather than letting it escape into the chilly air that came in from the corridor. ‘Lie down,’ he ordered. ‘There is no need to get up for my sake.’ If he knew Balin at all, he would argue the point. He was loyal to a fault. Maker be good, he had even wanted to attend the feast when it was clear to everyone that he was in no state to do so.

The other dwarf did not fail to live up to expectations. ‘One gets tired of lying down,’ he said. ‘Can you help me up, lad? This old warrior does not have as much strength in his arms as he used to have.’

‘You’re not getting any younger,’ Thorin countered, but he did as was asked of him all the same. He was not the kind of person to fuss about others, as Kate had once so eloquently pointed out. _You don’t do fussing. You just snap and order and make us all go on till we drop onto the ground in exhaustion, but you certainly do not fuss_. And with Balin looking almost grey, that was closer to the truth than the dwarf king was actually comfortable with. ‘Óin would say that you need to recover your strength, not waste it.’

The hint of a smile appeared on the other’s face. ‘Óin knows better than to order me around these days, laddie. How are the others?’

Thorin conjured up his most disapproving stare. ‘You should worry about yourself more.’ He may not do fussing, but this was his oldest friend, one who currently looked like he was closer to death than he ought to be. There were exceptions to every rule. Balin was one such exception.

‘Humour me,’ Balin said. He may look a little exasperated as Thorin arranged a blanket around his shoulders, but heat least refrained from commenting. Fortunately he was not that stubborn. ‘Tell me about the feast.’

Ten to one that Balin was planning to talk strategy based on what his king had learned at the dining table, but Thorin obliged all the same. He could tell the tale and then leave before they could discuss what could be learned from his observations. Balin wanted to be involved, wanted to go on as if nothing was wrong with him, even if there was, but his brother was a brilliant mind  when it came to strategy as well, although admittedly his area of expertise was more the battlefield than the town’s council. But Thorin had been roaming the realm of politics for many decades himself. Yes, he would do better with Balin’s advice, but he was in no way helpless and not eager to be seen as such.

Balin nodded. ‘This Lainor, what do we know about him?’ he wondered as soon as his king had concluded his tale.

Thorin shook his head. ‘No. You are still recovering. I will not discuss these things with you.’

Now he was the one who found himself on the receiving end of an exasperated look. ‘My body may not be as healthy and quick as it used to be, but my mind still works well, Thorin.’ The expression on his face was positively unyielding. Sometimes the stubbornness of their race was a blessing, but today, in Balin, it was a curse.

‘You are not well.’ Even if Balin chose to ignore this fact, it did not make it any less true. ‘Dwalin will be my advisor on this matter and that is my final word on it. You will not get involved in these matters until you are fully recovered.’ He had half a mind to leave him behind in Esgaroth, while the rest of the company journeyed on towards the Mountain. Balin would not like this, which was the very reason why he made no mention of his intention yet, but it would keep him safe from the dangers that still lay ahead.

Balin shook his head. ‘My brother is many things, but he is not the one you’ll need to convince this Master you’re worthy of his aid, especially not when the elves demand that he’ll give us back to them. My brother is many things, but he is a military advisor, not an advisor in council.’

‘You will not come,’ Thorin repeated.

‘I was not meaning to come myself,’ Balin replied calmly. He even seemed amused. ‘You have an advisor, as my brother pointed out only last night. Make use of her.’

Thorin shook his head. Kate was many things, but she was not a politician. And yet, he had seen a leader in her. He had caught glimpses of it, but that did not necessarily make her good in negotiating. If she had any sense of diplomacy, she must have left it behind in her own world. It was not in Middle Earth with her. ‘Miss Andrews is no more a politician than Dwalin,’ he felt obliged to point out.

‘No, but she can be manipulating,’ Balin countered.

Thorin thought that was one of the most strange things he had ever heard being said about Kate Andrews. ‘Balin…’

It would seem his friend was not yet done though. ‘She has you listening to her,’ he said. ‘There are not many people I know who are known to have done the same thing. If she has done this, then she will be a help in your negotiations.’ He saw Thorin was about to protest this very twisted sense of logic and raised a hand to pre-empt it. ‘And you work well with her, laddie. I have seen that for myself.’

Thorin decided to come at this by another road, because Balin’s argument was not easy to contradict, if it could be contradicted at all, which he sincerely doubted. ‘She won’t work with me now.’

The knowledgeable look that was bestowed on him made him feel uncomfortable. Balin may be unwell, but he saw more than Thorin wanted him to see still. ‘What did you do?’

Part of him was very tempted to lie, but this was Balin and whatever was said here was said in confidence. And maybe it was good to get this off his chest. ‘I lied to her,’ he replied. Saying it out loud made it even feel more dishonourable than he had already thought it. ‘And she knows it.’ Which was why he was now in this situation. Kate knew how to keep a grudge if her continued low opinion of Gandalf was any indication and he had just destroyed the trust had grown between them over months.

Any other might call him a fool, but Balin just patted his hand in a very fatherly manner. ‘Oh, laddie, what have you done?’

 _Something stupid, and yet there was no other choice to be made_. He still believed that.

‘She’ll forgive you,’ the elderly dwarf said in a comforting manner.

Thorin arched an eyebrow. ‘Are we talking about the same Kate Andrews?’ he inquired, all too aware how much he sounded like aforementioned Kate Andrews at the moment. ‘She does not forgive easily. You know how she was with Gandalf.’

A knowing smile appeared on his friend’s face. ‘Aye, Thorin, but you are not Gandalf.’

Fortunately not. He might start to fear for his pipe if that were the case, especially now there was so much water close by. ‘It makes no difference.’

‘It does,’ Balin disagreed. ‘She’ll never love Gandalf, but she does love you.’ He inserted a short silence. ‘And she knows it too.’

The dwarf king shook his head. Any reservations he had about being reluctant with his information were long gone. And if there was anyone he would ever bare his soul to like this, it was Balin. He knew he could trust him to be discreet at the very least. ‘You’re wrong,’ he said, trying and failing to squash the feeling of disappointment that seemed to have taken up residence in his heart as of yesterday afternoon. ‘She does not care.’ She had cared as a friend, but for all he knew they were back to pre-Rivendell relationship now.

‘She told you?’ Balin still, for some reason, seemed amused.

‘She did,’ Thorin said dismissively.

To his surprise the other dwarf laughed. It brought back a bit of colour on his face. That was a good thing, but it did not make the situation any clearer. ‘Maker be good, Thorin.’ He shook his head. ‘The lass is nearly as good in fooling herself as she is in fooling you.’ He met his king’s eyes. ‘She loves you and has done so for quite some time now, even if she has not always been aware of that herself.’ There was another short silence. ‘Your advisor is a lot like you in that regard.’

Thorin ignored the last words and tried to kill the seed of hope that was trying to take root in him as a result of the rest of Balin’s little speech. Balin may see and know more than many of the others, but he was not infallible and he, like any other person, could be wrong. Some irrational part of him however passionately hoped he was right and Thorin was not quite sure yet what that said about him.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Balin cannot be right. I have seen her face as she told me that she did not care in such a way. No one can act that well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope that explains both Gandalf and Elvaethor’s actions a little. Seriously, I don’t think Gandalf would just have left them to themselves, knowing what was ahead, but I think Thorin would have been very reluctant indeed to have accepted help from an elf, so that’s why he didn’t say anything about it. It makes sense to me and I sincerely hope it will make sense to you as well.  
> Anyway, next time: Thorin and Kate need to talk, with each other and with the Master. Until then, please review?


	56. Lessons in Diplomacy

_Elvaethor’s visit had left me thoroughly confused again and I cannot say I was enjoying the feeling. We had however gotten one reassurance and that was that he would for all intents and purposes be on our side, even as he had to act as Thranduil’s loyal deputy, because I suspect that was what he was. It was a very dangerous game he was playing and again I found myself wondering why he did it. A favour to Gandalf, possibly, but that was taking both friendship and favour a bit too far in my opinion. What person would deliberately get himself into such a situation; to fight a cause that he surely could not believe in at all? Elvaethor, like his kinsmen, should be less than eager to see a strong dwarf kingdom restored in what was practically his backyard. There had to be more to the matter than he had told me and I was determined to find out._

_That time, however, was not the right moment to play private detective, because I had negotiations to concern myself with. Thorin, looking even more exhausted than he had looked the night before, had informed me that I was to accompany him and had cleared out of the room before I had gotten as much as a chance to reply._

_Negotiating was not something I excelled in. I was never the compromising type, a skill I have learned is nothing short of essential in the art that is diplomatic discussion. I doubt I ever really mastered it, because calling Thranduil a pompous, empty-headed imbecile at the trade talk three years ago does not qualify as diplomatic in anyone’s book. Admittedly he had just questioned my sanity, but still._

_I was more of the charge in and deal with things using a lot of voice volume and nasty words, supplemented by the occasional urge to bang heads against the wall. I could do sneaky and manipulative too, but that does not really count as diplomacy either. Lord Erland had already shown that he mastered the game of verbal backstabbing to perfection and do not even get me started on the elves. This worried me, because neither your father nor me was particularly good at that. Thorin had shown that he believed he was a king who was in the right and who was owed the people’s allegiance, an opinion the Master of Lake-town did not seem to share at all. And me? Well, some things are best left unsaid._

_And then there was a whole different side to this negotiating circus that I had not spared any thought before I was commanded to take part in such a session; the whole art of dressing appropriately to give the right impression. And there was the annoying fact that I had to pretend that I had done this all before, because I may go with the story of never wearing fancy dresses as a queen in exile, but I sincerely doubted I would get away with not having attended negotiations before, which meant that I was supposed to know what I was doing and had to make Inga believe that I knew what I was doing, which was a job in and out of itself._

_I had been given a number of dresses by the Master and from those I had to make a choice. The green dress from the night before had to go. It was too rich and we were, in essence, beggars begging for help. We phrased it differently, but that was the truth. The grey dress was too plain; we may be beggars, but I was posing as a queen, so I had to obey certain standards. The red dress was out of the question for the obvious reasons, because it clashed horribly with my hair. Which idiot had added it to the wardrobe, I’ll never know. The yellow one made me look sick, which I wasn’t, and purple dress had a neckline that was way too low. Lord Erland had already been staring at my cleavage a little too long the night before – a fact that had fortunately escaped Thorin’s notice because he was too busy fuming over aforementioned lord’s complete lack of manners – and I was none too eager for a repeat performance._

_All in all, there were a lot of aspects to be taken into considerations and negotiations had not even begun…_

 

Thorin would not deny the fact that his mind was slightly less organised than he was used to. He would however never admit this to anyone but himself, not with negotiations ahead of him and the need to dive into those with only the advisor for company. He would have preferred Balin at his side, who, after what Kate would call dropping a bomb on him, had gone on to discuss tactics with him for the negotiations in spite of his king’s protests. Aforementioned king had, for a little while, been caught too off guard to utter another word, which may have been the elderly dwarf’s intention. He had spoken true on at least one account: he may be indisposed, but he had not lost any wits in the process.

Or at least not where it came to anything diplomacy related. He was as sharp as he had ever been on that and he had showered his king in advices and had strongly discouraged him from losing his temper in front of any people he should be getting on his side. Thorin could have told him the last thing, although it may be difficult for him. Mahal knew that he was being tried hard by Lord Erland and Lainor’s joined attempt to make sure that he understood the concept of _unwelcome_ and _seriously unwanted_. Both of them shared the view that the status quo should be maintained at all costs, because then Smaug would stay where he was and would not harm another person. Cowardice seemed to have infected the area like the plague and Thorin could not stand it.

And the newly arrived elvish delegates were not making him do a happy dance around the town either. They must have arrived overnight, including the insect, as Thorin had personally labelled Elvaethor. Their purpose here was not difficult to guess. They would be here to make sure that Lord Erland gave Thranduil his prisoners back, but Thorin was in no hurry to ever set foot in the elf king’s realm again. In fact, he had more or less sworn to never go near it as long as he lived. Thranduil was welcome to visit him in Erebor once it was reclaimed to properly thank him for ridding the area of the firedrake, but that was as far as things needed to go in his opinion.

He was also wondering what Elvaethor had been doing in the house this morning. Kate might not even know that, judging by the last piece of the conversation he had overheard. It was obvious that it had left the woman angry and frustrated, but because Thorin himself had not heard everything, it was rather difficult to determine what had been going on.

But this, the elvish presence in Esgaroth, meant that negotiations might be even more difficult than he had already anticipated them to be and he meant what he had said to Balin: neither Dwalin nor Kate was really suitable for the job of advising him in the talks. He would have given his right arm to have Balin there with him, because his friend knew how politics worked and how he could get his way by way of polite talks. Thorin didn’t think he truly lacked that ability, but he knew himself well enough to know that he did not excel in that field. And neither did the advisor.

And he was on his way to collect her now. He had made his rounds through the house to make sure that all his men were still alive and feeling better than last night, had spent some time talking to them and had then gone to change into clothes that were more fitting for negotiations with stubborn Masters and grumpy elves than the simple tunic and breeches he had worn in the morning. Those would truly make him look like a beggar and although that was basically what he was, not a thought he liked to entertain, he would not show it off. He had some pride and he was still a king who was owed these people’s allegiance. Allegiance though he would never get, of that he was sure. But he might just be able to shame the Master and his friends into giving him the supplies he would need to get to the Mountain. If he was honest, the sooner he was out of this town, the better it would be for his peace of mind.

He knocked on the door.

‘Come on in!’ Kate called.

He did as she asked and then froze on the doorstep. For a moment he foolishly wondered who that woman was and he was on the verge of demanding to know what in Durin’s name she thought she was doing here, when he realised he was in fact looking at the advisor, a very much transformed advisor, who happened to look completely miserable.

She was sat at the dressing table and had Inga work on her hair, so she couldn’t turn around, but she arched an eyebrow at him by looking into the mirror. ‘Are you going to stand there till Durin’s Day or are you going to come in and close the door behind you before there’s so much cold air come through that door that it starts freezing here?’

Thorin realised that he in fact had been staring at her, something he didn’t think he had done in decades, not since Dís had caught him off guard by announcing that she was going to be married, completely out of the blue.  He stepped in and closed the door. ‘Are you nearly done?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Nice to see you too,’ Kate commented dryly. ‘Readier than you are, I imagine. What time are we expected to be in the city hall?’

‘In half an hour,’ Thorin informed him, all too aware of the scrutinising glance of the serving girl. She may pretend to be working on Kate’s hair, but there were looks one could feel more than see and Inga was currently staring so much that it was a miracle her eyes had not yet popped out of their sockets. Thorin was of course aware that Kate and he were something that had not been seen before. The people in the hall last night had been looking strangely as well from time to time, but they seemed to like Kate, seemed to think her approachable, someone they could relate to better than the dwarves. The advisor had been treated courteously, with the two obvious exceptions, and had been on the receiving end of more welcoming smiles than Thorin cared to count. There were however several men in the hall whose eyes had not been directed at Kate’s face, but rather several inches lower. And he did not like that.

Kate nodded. ‘Thank you, Inga. It looks lovely,’ she said to the girl. It was the patient queen tone of voice again. If only the woman could pull that off in front of the Master of this town, then things might just work out, but the dwarf knew her well enough that she was almost physically incapable of keeping her mouth shut when she was properly riled.

Inga curtsied. ‘Will there be anything else, my lady?’ she asked politely.

Kate shook her head. ‘No, thank you. That will be all. I will be busy in the city hall for the rest of the day, so you might as well take the afternoon off. Have some fun.’

The reply was another curtsey and then the girl hurried out of the room, stealing glances at both Thorin and Kate as she went. The dwarf did not fully understand it, but Kate smiled knowingly.

‘You’re very kind to the girl,’ he observed. ‘Why did you give her the afternoon off?’ He disappeared behind the dressing screen to change. Pretend marriage or not, he was not doing that in front of the advisor.

He heard Kate’s snort as he pulled his tunic over his head. ‘To gossip,’ Kate said. ‘And she will. She thinks we’re interesting and she’s going to relate everything she hears and sees in this room to her friends, so that by the end of the day everyone in town knows.’ For some reason she sounded thoroughly pleased with herself.

‘You sent her off so that she could tell everything she knows about us to others?’ Thorin could not help but feeling angered at those words. What was the woman thinking? It was hard enough that they had to maintain this charade before all the officials, but he was not going to flaunt this relationship that did not exist in front of others if he could help it, especially not after last night. He still did not know where he now stood with her.

‘It will make the people like us,’ Kate explained. ‘You bet Lord Erland will be starting a similar gossip campaign. He’ll try to turn the public against us, so we must try to achieve the opposite. Plus we have the advantage that the people will probably be more receptive to our side of the story, given how enthusiastic they were only last night.’

For a moment Thorin wondered who this woman was and what she had done with the real Kate Andrews. Mahal knew she looked nothing like the advisor he had come to know over the past few months. But then he recalled that Kate had also been the one who had feigned to faint to get them into the town. She had also been plotting to get away from the company in the Misty Mountains, although that attempt had been thwarted by Gandalf, whose plotting was a lot more developed than Kate’s. There was a cunning streak there though, even if Thorin had not seen very much of it yet. It was there all the same.

‘It is not like you,’ he heard himself say. As annoying as her attitude was sometimes, he also hated the need for this far more grown-up behaviour. The quest had done that, had wrought changes upon her, upon all of them, that could not easily be undone, if they could be undone at all.

‘You’re wrong.’ Kate was snappy. She had been so since he set foot in this room again, so he could only assume that she was still mad at him. ‘You’ve just never seen it before.’

He supposed so, but it did not mean he had to like it. ‘It is not the honourable way,’ he felt obliged to point out. It felt like a far too elvish way, with the sneaky comments and the verbal backstabbing. And he would stay far away from those if only he could.

‘It’s the women’s way,’ Kate corrected. ‘You’ve not been around females a lot, have you?’ Normally the remark would sound teasing, but now it was sharp and almost malicious. The reason for this tone of voice was not difficult to guess, but it did hurt. This had not been how things were meant to go.

‘You are aware that women do not make up a large part of my people’s population?’ he inquired icily.

The way this conversation was going made him uncomfortable, made him want to do something, anything to stop them from getting into a full-blown argument from which there was no return. He just didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing and that was making it all so complicated.

Thorin pulled his own washed tunic over his head. It was not very regal anymore after the journey they’d already made, but at least it was clean and it fit better than the clothes the people of Esgaroth had offered to him. And his armour would go over it anyway and his coat over that. It would not be very visible.

‘I thought you had a sister,’ Kate countered. It did not help the case that he could not see her face as they were arguing. It would be so much of a help if he at least had that, so that he could anticipate her reactions, read her thoughts from her face. Dealing with the Master and his friends might be skating on thin ice, but talking to Kate at the moment felt like skating over even thinner ice. The slightest movement could cause it to crack and then the friendship, whatever was left of that anyway, would sink and not resurface.

Deciding that he was decent enough to leave the relative safety of the dressing screen, he moved back into the room under the pretence of having to collect his boots over by the bed. ‘I do,’ he said honestly. ‘But I have not seen her as much as I would like these past few decades. I do not know what is or is not the way of the female kind, I swear.’ The female kind, he’d said, because apparently they were almost a species in their own right, completely incomprehensible to all male beings.

Kate looked at him with all the understanding of an orc about to kill his victim. That did not bode well. ‘And how am I to know that what you say is even the truth?’ she demanded.

He did not need to ask what she was talking about. She knew he had lied to her last night and she was furious about it. She may even have been waiting for the right opportunity to bring up the subject and although Thorin feared that, because that might force him to confess what he had been dreaming about if not the goblins, as he had tried and failed to make her believe.

‘I swore to it,’ he reminded her.

Kate was not about to give in that easily, but he had not expected her to, not when she was really angry. If Balin’s words about her were true at all, then he failed to see it in the human woman, who now was glaring at him with her arms folded over her chest, a stance he had witnessed in his own sister several times when she was about to lecture her sons. ‘You lied last night.’ It was not a question, it was the stating of a fact.

‘I did.’ Lying would not gain him anything now and if he wanted to save the friendship between them, then he would have to do what he had promised himself he would never do; he gave in, admitted that he had been in the wrong. It was the only thing that he could think of now. And yes, he would not see her ever again after the quest had been completed, but he found he did not want to lose her friendship any sooner than he necessarily had to.

He studied her as his words started to make an impact. Kate was still forbidding. She knew that she had the right of it this time and she was not about to budge and accept his apology, if that was even what it was, without problems. He was going to have to fight for it.

Strangely enough she had never looked more like a queen. Of course the dress and hairdo did help to create that image. The dress itself was a dark blue, with silver embroidery along the sleeves and neckline, which was a little higher than the one of the dress she had worn last night and hopefully that would stop some of the men from trying to look at things not meant for their eyes. Kate looked like a highborn noblewoman now. It would be easier for the people to see a leader when they looked at her, especially when she behaved like this.

‘You admit it?’ The advisor sounded a little surprised, if only a little. The anger still ruled her voice.

‘Would you like to catch me out on another lie?’ he countered. Those were not the wisest words to say, but it at least was the truth.

Kate looked at him as if he had just asked the most stupid question she could have thought of. ‘Back to the stupid questions, are we?’ The words were familiar, but they were too biting to be qualified as banter again.

And he had no idea how he was supposed to deal with this. Apologising was not one of his strong points, as Dís had reminded him time and again, and for some reason arguing with Kate suddenly struck him as more life-threatening than taking on an angry, fire-breathing dragon. ‘I should not have done it,’ Thorin told her. The words sounded formal and unfamiliar and he did not know how well he managed to convey that he really meant it. The unyielding look in Kate’s eyes suggested that the success was very limited, if it existed at all.

‘Then why _did_ you do it?’ For a moment he thought the anger on her face was closer to hurt, but it was only a moment and it was gone again before he could truly be certain. Still, this seemed to give food to Balin’s words that Kate did care. Someone was not hurt if they did not care. If that had been the case, she would have brushed it off as if it were nothing. The fact that they were having this argument proved that there was something more, but it could still only be friendship. Friends could very easily react in such a way too, especially when their tempers were as fiery as Kate’s.

‘Because I cannot talk about it,’ he confessed. Thorin could not remember giving himself permission to speak that truth, but it was out before he had the chance to stop it. He wasn’t the kind of person to talk about sensitive matters. Yes, he was given to blunt honesty, too blunt sometimes, but not when it was personal. This was too personal.

There was a short silence in which Kate seemed to carry out an intensive study of his face. Thorin did not look away. A lot would stand or fall with the next few minutes and looking away was the coward’s way out. And Thorin Oakenshield may have some flaws, most of which he was fully aware of, but he was not a coward. He had foolishly taken the coward’s way last night and it could still cost him their friendship. He would not make such a mistake ever again if he could help it.

Eventually the woman seemed to make some kind of decision. The anger in her eyes subsided somewhat, with somewhat being the operative word, but she no longer looked at him as if she would rather run him through than have a polite conversation with him. ‘Do such a thing again and you’re a dead dwarf walking,’ she threatened. Of course she had no way of making good on that threat – her lack of physical strength being only one of the things stopping her from killing him, her oath being another – but Thorin got the gist of it. ‘Now, on the chair,’ she commanded, pointing at the chair in front of the dressing table.

‘I beg your pardon?’ the dwarf said. What was she up to?

Kate rolled her eyes. Thorin was more relieved than he should be to notice that the malice had gone out of them. Anger there was still, but it was mixed up with what appeared to be amusement and mild mocking. ‘I sincerely hope you’re not planning on walking into the city hall like that,’ she remarked, giving him a pointed look. ‘Your hair looks like a colony of birds has been nesting in it and we hardly need to give these bloody elves any reasons to point out that we are a bunch of barbaric idiots who do not how to present themselves properly. Sit down.’

Thorin suppressed the urge to say that she sounded more like his sister than she knew; he wanted to maintain that fragile ceasefire as long as he could. This might be Kate’s way of saying that she considered the matter over and done with, but he was not quite sure they were back to normal and bantering was not worth the risk now, not with Kate being more likely to breathe fire than Smaug was at the moment. Instead he distracted both of them by asking something he had been wondering about. ‘What was the insect doing here this morning?’ The argument had driven the matter from his mind for a while, but still it was one of the strangest things he’d seen in quite some time.

‘So glad to hear private conversations remain private,’ Kate commented wryly when she all but attacked his hair with the comb. ‘Have you not been told as a child that it is rude to eavesdrop?’ There was some amusement now, the teasing he remembered so well, even though it still sounded like it was a lot of effort to keep it up. But she made an effort of it. Did that mean Kate too wanted to keep the friendship alive? It was so hard to know what she thought. But then, he had never really known what went on in her head, not in the moments that it mattered most. Today was hardly an exception.

‘I was gathering useful information,’ Thorin replied.

In the mirror he could see Kate’s smirk. ‘Is _that_ what it was? Then surely you know what he told me?’

He shook his head, realising only too late there was someone putting a comb through it, resulting in Kate pulling a few hairs out of his skull. ‘I heard only the last,’ the dwarf king replied. ‘What did he want?’

Kate seemed annoyed again, although it was not directed at him this time. ‘Goodness knows what Elvaethor wants,’ she muttered irritably. ‘He was already in when I came down, so I demanded some answers out of him. I think I got them, some at least.’ She rolled her eyes to demonstrate what she thought of it all.

Now Thorin turned around to look at her. ‘He gave you answers?’ He himself was far from making up his mind where the Mirkwood captain of the guards was concerned, but wariness seemed to be the best way to approach that elf. He had heard a lot of things that might suggest he would be on their side sometimes, but now he was here to speak on Thranduil’s behalf and that placed him firmly on the elf king’s side in Thorin’s mind.

‘As I said, some of them,’ Kate said. ‘He is on our side at least. Apparently he’s a friend of Gandalf’s and our friend the wizard had asked of him to keep an eye out for us, to help us through Mirkwood.’

And then Thorin Oakenshield did something he had never done before: his jaw dropped.

 

***

 

Lake-town was alive with the hustle and bustle of people going about their daily business as Thorin and Kate crossed the square to the town’s main hall, where the negotiations would take place. Apparently Lord Erland wanted to hear “all sides of the story” before he decided on one course or the other. Kate had quickly recognised it for what it was: a shrewd politician’s babble from a man who was trying to buy himself as much time as he could before he had to make an impossible decision, the spineless narcissist.

Kate was nervous, but not overly so. It helped to know that Elvaethor was on their side, even though he must have more reasons for that than he had told her about, but those were only known to the elf himself. He had just given her what he wanted to share with her. Kate was fairly certain that no amount of coaxing would persuade him to part with the rest of his secrets. He would not do that unless he felt so inclined and he had apparently not felt inclined that morning.

Thorin was walking next to her with a face that predicted storm for the next fortnight. He was still in the process of trying to grasp what she had just told him about Elvaethor’s actions in Mirkwood and the conversation she had just had with the elf only a few hours ago. It was obvious from the way that he scowled at everything and everyone that this piece of information was not causing him to do a happy dance around the square.

Well, he could join the club. Kate herself was none too pleased with the wizard now and that was quite the achievement, since aforementioned wizard at the moment was probably busy fighting the current resident of Dol Guldur. What the hell had Gandalf been thinking keeping this information from them? Yes, Thorin’s reaction might have been a great part in it, but could he at least not have hinted that he had put some help in place in case their journey through the woods would not go the way they had planned it to go? _Of course not_ , she thought irritated. _That is not his way, is it?_

But the Gandalf and Elvaethor issue had to take a back seat for now, because the upcoming negotiations were a far more pressing concern. Lord Erland would not leave a stone unturned in his attempts to have the lot of them returned to Thranduil’s dungeons before one could say elves and Kate was of no mind to let that happen while she still had a say in it.

But that was exactly the problem, because she was not sure how much influence she actually had. In moments like these she felt like a little girl who had strayed into a world full of powerful people who by accident mistook her for someone who actually knew what she was doing here, mistook her for someone who was just as important as they were. And she had to play along, or she and the quest would be dead in the water. And that was not an option.

It did not stop her from wishing Balin was here. He was a wise old dwarf who appeared to have the answer to every single problem in the world. But Balin had been taken ill. She had visited him briefly while Inga was still in the process of laying out her clothes and he had looked positively greyish. ‘You’ll do well, lass,’ he had told her in response to the doubts she had not even voiced. ‘Have a little faith.’ But if she had faith, she must have stored it away somewhere and put a lock on the door. She had not said that. Instead she had smiled as reassuringly as she could and then she had left to change.

Thorin was doing better. He had that same demanding expression on his face as he’d had when he was facing down Thranduil; the look that said that he was completely justified to ask what he was asking. If they wanted the sympathy, she should not count on Thorin getting it. That might be her part to play.

They were the last to arrive in the hall. The elves and men already were seated and they looked at them as they entered. Some of the men seemed to have lost the power of speech as they laid eyes on her or, more specifically, her dress. Maybe she should have gone for something a little more modest, but at least the elves did not take any particular notice. There was only disdain on their faces. If she had not known better, she might even have thought Elvaethor was against them, but he appeared to be nothing more than a very skilled actor, for he quickly winked at her when he thought nobody was looking. Kate did not know why, but she felt relieved. Maybe it was because she knew that not everybody in here was against them.

‘Your majesties,’ Lord Erland said. The tone of voice could be mistaken for pleasant, but only if one was hard of hearing. ‘How good of you to join us.’

Thorin was visibly fighting to stop himself from exploding, so Kate took it upon herself to repay him in kind. ‘It’s very good of you to have organised this meeting, Lord Erland. You have been most kind and welcoming to us.’ The sarcasm lay on it three inches thick, but she covered it up with a nice smile and polite words. She had never really been bullied in school, but people used to call her out because of her far too red hair and untameable curls. Kate Andrews had soon learned that ignoring it was not going to do the trick, but scathing sarcasm often worked. Her father had been good for some of her arguing experience as well. Lord Erland was, when it really came down to it, just a bully, a more sophisticated bully, but a bully all the same and she could handle those. _My father was loads better at it than you are, my lord Erland. Take that, you bastard. I’m just as skilled at this as you are._

This meant that the sympathy card went straight out of the window. That would not do her any good in here, since Elvaethor was one of the very few sympathetic to their cause. They should not count on much sympathy here, not in this hall. Thorin might call this shady elvish politics, Kate just called it verbal sparring with school bullies. Thorin would never have known those in his younger years and why should he? He had been the prince who had everything he wanted. No one in his senses would have dared to as much as look at him the wrong way. Admittedly he had to deal with a lot of this kind of bullying 2.0 – also known as bullying by supposed grown-ups – after the Mountain had fallen to the dragon, but he definitely missed the early training. Maybe coming here was not as much of a mistake as she had first thought it to be.

‘Do please take a seat,’ Lord Erland said, which Kate correctly translated as: _Do please go to hell_. They were not at all welcome here and only a fool would not realise that. But they did as they were told. This was neither the time nor the place to let this escalate into a full-blown argument. That was one of the things they could not afford.

The next thing the Master did was to invite them to state what they expected from the people of Lake-town. Thorin stood up as he did so. He kept it brief and to the point and merely repeated what he had said last night as well: that he was on his quest to reclaim his homeland from the dragon, which he fully intended to kill rather than let it harm another living person ever again, that they had been wrongfully imprisoned by elves for a crime they had not committed, and that because of this they were out of supplies. He kindly – it must have cost him a great deal to swallow his pride and be kind to this Master, Kate knew – asked if the good people of Esgaroth would provide it for them. Weapons they had already, thanks to his own quick thinking in Mirkwood, and all they really needed were rations that would last for several weeks. Clothes would be welcome, but they were not a necessity of life. If need be they could make do with the ones they had worn so far. Thorin of course never said that.

Lord Erland nodded and then invited the elves to tell their part of the story, a part he doubtlessly had already heard. Kate began to see his game then. From experience she knew that the one who spoke last always made the most impact, was the one that was remembered most. The Master of Lake-town was trying not only to discredit them, but also to make them look unimportant. Not for the first time Kate had to suppress the urge to hit the man.

What followed was a lot of babbling about how the company was supposed to have burned down a large part of King Thranduil’s realm and that they had been imprisoned for that, after which they had miraculously escaped, in the process of which a fair number of guards and the elven king’s very own nephew – Thorin’s lips curled up in what might even have been a smile at the report of Galas’s injury – had been knocked out. It was hardly a surprise that Erland was hanging onto their every word.

It was a bad thing, because Lainor was the spokesman for the Mirkwood elves. Elvaethor had clearly been about to speak, but Lainor was tripping over himself in his haste to make accusations against the dwarves. He must hate them a great deal, although heaven only knew why he had such a dislike of the dwarven race. Maybe it was something Galas had infected him with. Kate would not rule it out.

The longer the elf’s talk went on, the more Kate could feel her blood approach boiling point. Lainor may be a right pain in the arse and he was trailing after Galas like a love-struck puppy, but he had a brain on him, a brain he was currently using to try and discredit the company. He delivered his lies in a flimsy disguise of truth. He left out the elves’ own less than honourable behaviour and exaggerated the bad manners of the dwarves, twisting their words and actions until it was practically impossible to tell truth from lie for one who had not been there to hear and see the events for themselves. And the longer he went on listing the supposed crimes of the company, the more Lord Erland started to look as if his birthday had come early.

Thorin was doing a remarkable job of not losing his temper. Kate was trying to do the same by fantasising about repeatedly smashing Lainor’s far too perfect nose to make him look a little less triumphant, but her attempts to control her actions were increasingly unsuccessful the longer she was forced to listen to this.

‘Of course you and yours behaved like true gentlemen,’ she interjected at a certain point in time. She would readily admire Thorin’s self-control – when had he learned to be that stoical anyway? – but he had to forgive her for not having the same amount of it. Her patience with Lainor’s lies was non-existent right now and the words came spilling out of her mouth almost unchecked as her anger took over. ‘I am sure many would agree with you that knocking out a defenceless and injured woman is at the very top of the list of honourable things to do and the same can probably be said about your threats to torture a woman to get her husband to make a certain oath. And naturally it’s very gentlemanly to keep throwing taunts and humiliating remarks at people who are not at liberty to react. Do try to work on your own behaviour before you even think about criticising ours.’ It was an explosion of words, but the resentment against elves like Lainor had taken root in her and now she found herself quite unable to even see the unearthly beauty in them. This probably meant she was siding more with the dwarves than she had ever believed possible, but at the moment she had far more important things to worry about.

Lainor glared at her. ‘Be careful with your words, my lady, or I will have to take offence.’

Kate was too angry to back off now. Thorin had laid a hand on her arm to warn her against further explosions, but Kate pretended she had not noticed. ‘Is it offence these days to hear the truth being spoken?’ she demanded. This was not wise, not in the least, but she found she could not care. She had been taunted and humiliated for well over a week, effectively making sure that her patience with the elves and their schemes was no longer in existence. This was just the last straw, she supposed. ‘Because that is what it is. And you already know how your forest came to be burned, although I rather doubt you sent someone to the scene to check if we had really spoken the truth. You don’t want us to tell the truth, I’d say, because if you did, you would be forced to admit that you were in the wrong when you arrested us in the manner that you did.’

She was getting the hang of it now and for the moment Lainor seemed to be struck with speechlessness. Kate knew an opportunity when she happened upon one and she used it to her advantage. To hell with brief descriptions – the way Thorin had spoken – if they wanted to make an impact, those were never going to do.

With that in mind, she took off again. ‘We had wounded people amongst our number and you refused to give them medical treatment, just because they were dwarves. Now what does that tell us about your manners?’ She allowed the anger to fill her up. If she was pretending to be a queen, she might as well do it well and in that scenario those injured dwarves were her people, her responsibility. She was allowed to be angry over the treatment, or rather lack thereof, they had received.

Lainor at least seemed rather shamed than angered into silence now and several men of Lake-town now also seemed a little less anxious to go with the elven version of the story than they had been just a few minutes ago. Lainor had done a good job of twisting the truth, but his reaction to Kate’s verbal explosion had given him away and now he was being unmasked as the true villain in the part.

It was still strange to see elves as the villains. Kate had truly loved Tolkien’s works before she had been transported here and was forced to live in them – she could only be glad she had not landed herself in the War of the Ring period, she supposed – and somewhere in the back of her head the idea that elves were good people kept existing stubbornly, even when there was so much evidence to the contrary. And the point was that the elves were in essence good creatures. They were just not overly enamoured of dwarves and that must be the reason for their less than honorary behaviour the times she had encountered them. She wondered what would have happened if she had met them without the dwarves.

The question was of no relevance though now. She had met them with the company and that decided her views on the pointy-eared tree lovers. They did not like her and she therefore could not possibly like them. It would not be healthy if she did and she had a lingering suspicion her friends would declare her mad if she did.

‘Is this the truth?’ One of the men of Esgaroth had risen to his feet, favouring the elves with a stern look. He did not seem too impressed by them.

Lainor seemed to be about to deny the accusations, but this time Elvaethor beat him to it. ‘To my eternal shame I have to say that Queen Catherine’s words are indeed the truth, although I feel obliged to add that there is more to the tale than she would have you believe.’

His last words were drowned out in a storm of protest that had risen from the Esgaroth side of the table and in the general turmoil the Mirkwood captain of the guard once again winked at Kate. _Elvaethor to the rescue_ , she thought wryly. If they weren’t careful, this was starting to look habit-forming.

‘My lord Erland, you cannot possibly consider to hand our guests over to Lord Elvaethor!’ Another man had spoken and he looked positively scandalised. Kate remembered him as one of the people who had cheered loudest at their arrival, even if her mind stubbornly refused to provide her with the man’s name. He had also been one of the men who had stared at the neckline of her dress far more than was appropriate. Small wonder he was none too eager to see them handed back to the elves again.

His neighbour, the man who had first spoken, however seemed to have more honourable things in mind as he too protested the very notion. ‘It would be a grave injustice, my lord,’ he stated. ‘Loath as I am to send this company on their way and risk the wrath of the dragon, I would not see them returned to King Thranduil’s realm either.’

Kate wasn’t sure if she should like the direction this conversation was taking, but it would be best to take this one step at a time and she would settle for not being returned to Thranduil’s dungeons right now. The other things they could always sort out later, when this matter was properly dealt with.

Lord Erland was now caught between a rock and a hard place. Kate had no doubt that he would like to do nothing better than hand them over and be done with it, but there was no doubt that in acting like that, he would not be making any friends. His people had already demonstrated a lot of enthusiasm for Thorin’s quest and the possible riches that would come with it for them, or so they believed. But at least last night and even this very morning he had at least his own nobility behind him, who all had believed that the elves were justified in demanding what they did. That was, until Kate had forgotten her manners and had blurted out a few less than savoury details about the elvish unique brand of hospitality. Unknowingly and unintentionally she had caused a rift between elves and men in doing that. Of course, it would never have worked had Elvaethor not been his honourable foolish self and had confirmed what Kate had said, causing a storm of indignity with most of the nobility of Lake-town. As it was, Lord Erland was the only one who was not burning with righteous rage. Oh, he surely was angry – his overripe tomato imitation left little doubt on that account – but not for the reason his people were angry. Lord Erland merely saw his plans to get rid of the company foiled and he was unlikely to be pleased with that in any way.

The company advisor stole a glance at the very displeased Master just as he looked at her. And he was defeated. He knew it; it shone in his eyes. And he hated that. If looks could have killed, Kate would be dead many times over. But there was not much he could do now, not when the public opinion was so in aforementioned company’s favour.

As the chaos reigned all around them, Kate allowed herself a triumphant smile.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _This was almost too easy and I cannot for the life of me understand how this even happened. But I am sure that I have made an archenemy in Lord Erland. The sooner we are out of this town, the better it will be for all of us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bard pops up and Thorin and Kate have another meaningful conversation. Until then, please review? I’d love to hear your thoughts.


	57. Departure

_It still took us about a week before we were able to leave after that. The nobility of Lake-town now as well as the ordinary people were busy to try and gather whatever supplies we might need and some of our own companions were still ill. Bilbo was on his feet again after three days of being forced to stay in bed, although he still had a severe case of the cold, which made him sneeze more than once – the most memorable occasion being the one where he sneezed right on Lainor’s plate during a banquet; I had never seen your father trying so hard to control his laughter – but he at least was up again. The hobbit seemed to have changed by our adventure, but I’d say it was a change for the better. Before now he had resigned himself to being with the company, even if it was clear that he did not in any way like it. Now, after all the hardships he had endured on the company’s behalf, he seemed determined to see the adventure through. I did not really understand the change at the time – it would be a while before I would – but I did not complain. The hobbit had found his courage and that could only be of help in the quest._

_Balin took longer to recover. He caught a fever the day after the negotiations. He was burning up and suffering from hallucinations. Thorin worried himself sick over it. He, Dwalin and I took turns in keeping watch over him. Dwalin had thrown me a strange look when I announced I would help as well, and maybe it was strange. But Balin was one of the few who had been nice to me right from the start and over the last few months I had come to see him as a friendly grandfather figure. He meant something to me as well, I realised._

_And there was something altogether unnerving about seeing Balin in the throes of a frightening vision, stripped of his usual quiet dignity. I knew Thorin and Dwalin both worried for his life and I could in those moments not help but do the same._

_We worried for nothing though. After three days the fever broke and Balin celebrated that fact by reprimanding all three of us for being such worrying mother hens about his condition. Thorin ignored that though and tried to make Balin “see sense” by way of trying to persuade him to stay in Esgaroth while the rest of us travelled on. I can honestly say that I had never seen Balin that angry before. Quiet dignity? There was not a trace of it as those two went up against one another, fighting a battle with words, the likes of which I had not often seen before. If I had seen them, I was more likely to be one of the participants._

_In the end Thorin had to back down, as I had more or less suspected. Balin reminded his king that Erebor was his home as well as Thorin’s and that he wanted to fight for it. That caught Thorin off balance – I don’t think he was capable of refusing his friend anything at all, especially not when his motives were that honourable – and Balin went in for the kill by pointing out that he had signed a contract that did not allow him to turn his back on the quest as soon as he felt a bit poorly. Balin sure was more of a shrewd politician than I had first given him credit for._

_Nevertheless Thorin insisted on waiting another few days until Balin had recovered and any protests Balin had against that were usually throttled at birth, because he could not even stand on his own two feet without falling, so it was clear that he needed the rest._

_Still, a week after we arrived everyone had fully recovered and the time came for us to leave…_

 

The sun had not even crept over the horizon when Kate found herself at the docks, looking out over the Long Lake as she pulled her cloak tightly around her against the cold and at the same time tried and rather spectacularly failed to suppress a massive yawn. She had grown used to getting up early, but the soft featherbed had made her sleep better and deeper than she had been on the road and Inga had needed to wake her, instead of that she woke up of her own volition. And at first she had only wanted to snuggle deeper under the blankets when she recalled that all too soon she would have to face the cold again and only goodness knows how long it would take before she would be truly warm again, but she was still pretending to be a queen and queens were not allowed to act like spoiled princesses.

So here she was, watching as the men prepared the boats that would take them over the lake and closer to the Mountain. The very sight of that made her blood run cold and the temperature in this town had next to nothing to do with that. She knew she had been avoiding the issue best she could, always too busy with trying to prevent today’s disaster to be able to concern herself with tomorrow’s. But Erebor was close now and there was no way she could avoid thinking about it for much longer.

And here she would truly have to prove her worth. The Misty Mountains and Mirkwood had been child’s play compared to what was expected of her now. Now they had to come up with a way to kill the dragon themselves, prevent Thorin from becoming a gold-loving lunatic, make sure that there would be no further conflict between men, elves and dwarves and then hope very hard that the Battle of the Five Armies would never happen. It was by no means a small thing that needed doing and Kate found herself going nauseous with nerves if she as much as thought about it. A lot of that burden would be placed on her shoulders and she did not like it one bit.

 _I’m not made for great deeds_ , she thought as she watched Thorin and Dwalin securing the luggage in the boats. _Gandalf picked the wrong woman as an advisor_. The sight of the Mountain seemed to be killing her confidence in her own abilities. It was dark and looming on the horizon, spelling death and doom for whoever dared to venture near it. And death and doom were not such unlikely options when she thought of what needed doing. They would be walking a tightrope trying to make the good elements of the book come true whilst simultaneously trying to prevent the accompanying bad things from happening. Honestly, what did Gandalf think she was, Superwoman?

Bilbo certainly had become braver since Mirkwood. He too eyed the boats with wariness and general dislike, but he took a demonstrative deep breath and then marched for the boat nearest to him with an expression of stubborn determination he may have stolen from Thorin. Kate found herself wishing she had an ounce of the halfling’s courage. As it was, she feared she would never be anywhere near a hero. Bilbo, though, was another matter entirely.

‘My lady?’

Kate swivelled around to come face to face with Bard. She had not seen much of him, except during the council, which had turned out so well for them. Although she had not known his name at first, he had been the one who had pleaded with Lord Erland to not hand them back to the elves, because that would be a “grave injustice,” even when he was less than eager to let the company go on their merry way to fight the dragon for fear it would come to Esgaroth.

‘My lord,’ she acknowledged politely. A week in Lake-town had taught her more about politics than Jacko’s endless speeches about it and something told her the descendant of the kings of Dale was not here for a bit of civilised but meaningless conversation. ‘You are up early.’

A curt nod of the head was her response. ‘As are you, Queen Catherine.’

Kate forced her face into a smile, trying to work out what on earth Bard would want with her. She had never been one to bush around the bush, she supposed, and all this political waffle was getting on her nerves. The only reason why she would be relieved to leave Lake-town behind, would be because it would mean she could leave all the pretences there as well. And to be rid of Lainor and his fan base would not be too much of a luxury either.

‘There is no arguing with that,’ she agreed. ‘Although it does lead me to wonder what brings you to this dreary place this early in the morning. I doubt you are here just to say good morning.’

‘You have a very direct approach to things, my lady,’ Bard observed.

 _And you’re still beating around the sodding bush_. ‘I also notice that you don’t,’ she countered. ‘What is it you came here to discuss with me that you obviously feel you cannot discuss with my husband?’ Queen or not, Thorin was still the king and official matters had to be taken to him. But that was the way things should be going. Over the past week there had been more than one who had tried to get his point to Thorin by using Kate, whom they believed to be either more reasonable or less frightening. Bard seemed to be using the same method.

‘You are observant,’ Bard remarked. ‘I think you know why I am here.’

In the book Bard had not been liking the company setting off towards Erebor, predicting doom and disaster. There was no reason why he would feel any differently about it in real life, especially given his speech during that council.

‘You fear what will happen when my people confront the dragon,’ she replied. Goodness knew she feared what would happen then as well, but she could not afford to show that to this man. He was an honourable kind of person, with a very strong sense of right and wrong, but he was also one who felt he needed to protect his people. If she showed her doubts and fears, he would use it to try and change her mind. Her resolve was already wavering in the face of Smaug’s desolation; the last thing she needed was for it to be undermined even further.

Bard at least was an honest man. ‘Yes, my lady. Can you truly blame me for fearing the result of your quest?’

‘No.’ The answer had slipped out before she could stop it, but it was the right thing to be saying. He had been honest with her, now she owed it to him to be equally honest. ‘No, I cannot fault you for that. But if I may be blunt, you do not know the plight of my people. You do not know what urges us to undertake this quest.’

‘I know that I have a wife and a young son,’ Bard said. ‘I do not fear for myself, but I fear for them should the dragon be woken. We have a life now, a good life. It may not be all that it was in the days of yore, but it is a good life, a full life. If Smaug is woken, we could lose everything, all for riches that have long since been lost.’

‘My people have nothing to lose.’ Kate’s reply was a little more snappy than she had intended. She couldn’t help it; Bard’s attitude struck her as selfish, even if that was not one of his motivations for speaking out as he did. He was genuinely worried for his family, something Kate understood rather well. But Bard did not know, could not know, the dwarvish side of this problem. ‘You speak of a good and full life, but my people do not have that.’ She stared up at him, silently cursing the fact that he was taller than she was. ‘If you think that we risk a dragon’s wrath for riches, then I am afraid you do not understand what we are attempting. You’ve seen Thorin. Does he look like he’s the type to risk life and limb for _riches_?’ She didn’t know why she felt so strongly about this. Yes, it was a part of the charade, but that did not make her feel so passionate about this. Maybe it was because Thorin was her friend and she stood up for him when he needed it, when he could not do it himself. And Bard may mean well, but he did not understand anything.

Bard looked at her, confusion written all over his face. ‘My lady, what am I supposed to think?’

 _Well, you could start by trying to be better informed before you started to accuse us_ , Kate though, irritation flaring up. She could only just hold back the words. Queens didn’t talk in such a way. ‘You might have found out our motivations before you jumped to conclusions.’ It was politer than what she’d had in mind, but only just. But then, dwarves weren’t known for their good manners. ‘You know nothing of my people. You probably never even wondered what had become of them after the Mountain fell. And why should you? You have a full and happy life, as you pointed out yourself. Aye, the city of your ancestors has been destroyed, but it did not happen in your lifetime now, did it? You do not remember. Thorin does. He was there the day Smaug came, saw his family ripped apart by the dragon’s invasion, saw several of them perish as a consequence of losing their home. It’s been a struggle for survival ever since.’ She caught herself getting worked up and took a deep breath to calm herself before she could explode. ‘Have you ever been to Eriador?’

Bard shook his head. ‘I’ve never been there.’

 _Surprise, surprise_. ‘Then you do not know about how my people are treated,’ she said dismissively. ‘We’re looked down upon, mistrusted, kept out of cities of men if they can only find a good enough excuse. We do not belong there. With all due respect, my lord, you cannot know what it is like there. We have nothing to lose and everything to win.’ She did not think she could truly explain to him what she had seen in Bree – the prejudices, the wary looks, the whispers behind the dwarves’ backs – but she could try at the very least. ‘Tell me, my Lord Bard, if your people were treated thus, would you not fight for them, fight for a place where they could prosper as they once had?’ It was not a very nice thing to say, probably far below the belt, but it would hopefully make look Bard differently at the matter.

She got a curt nod for her troubles. ‘I understand your point, my lady.’

‘But?’ Kate asked. Bard may not have spoken the word, but it was there all the same.

‘But it does not lessen my fears,’ the bowman said.

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Kate agreed. ‘But there are always more sides to a story than just the one. And maybe it will help you to look further than your fears.’ She’d had to do that, she supposed. She was still learning to get over her own doubts and fears, because she had little choice in the matter. She had sworn to stay with this company and see it all through, but that decision had not made the reality any easier to deal with, as she had had half hoped would happen. Things were never that easy. Her insides seemed to freeze to ice at the very thought of trying to reclaim an entire kingdom from an angry dragon, but that was no longer really an option and she told herself to get a grip. Things would go the way they went and there was just no way Thorin would ever be dissuaded from going back to his home, not now that he had come so close to it. It meant too much.

Bard shook his head. ‘I cannot when my family’s lives are at stake, nor when my people may suffer again from the fury of Smaug.’ He turned to face Kate. ‘He may destroy us all when he wakes. You will not only be going to your own deaths, but you will be the death of us all.’ There was no doubt that he spoke from the heart; it burned in his eyes as they stared into the advisor’s. He truly believed that there was no hope and, had she been in his shoes, she might even have felt the same. But she knew the book and the future that should be, the future that would be blessedly free of Smaug’s presence.

‘Maybe,’ she admitted, feeling the nerves tying her stomach into tight knots when she thought of the book. It never quite did as she wanted it to, and she knew it. It frightened her as much as it did Bard, but she was bound by oath to go. _And by ties of family and friendship_. She stubbornly refused to add love to the list. No, never that. Nevertheless, she would never be able to really live with herself if she left them now. She could not stay behind. It was a choice she had made and strangely enough not even the looming threat of death could persuade her from staying in Esgaroth. _When the hell did_ that _happen?_ ‘And maybe not. Who knows the future? If we are clever, and careful, it should be doable.’ And she should believe that if she did not want to break down.

‘Do you have children, Queen Catherine?’ Bard asked abruptly.

Kate shook her head. ‘No, I don’t,’ she admitted, having a vague idea of what he was trying to say. ‘I hope to have them one day.’ _Not bloody likely with the way things are going, though._ She looked at Bard. ‘And I intend to live long enough to have them. I am not planning on dying. Whatever you may think, this will not be a suicide mission.’

It was clear from the look in the man’s eyes that he did not believe her. ‘I would beg of you to reconsider your actions.’

Kate shook her head. ‘There is nothing to reconsider. This _will_ happen one way or another. Smaug will be defeated.’ And God gave that _The Hobbit_ had the right of that at the very least, even if she hoped that it would not destroy this town before that happened. ‘I understand your fears and believe me, I share many of them. But cowering away in fear is not the solution.’ At least she spoke from experience on that matter. Heaven knew she had tried to run away, had tried to keep her distance from the company. It had done her no good. She would not be running anywhere until this was over and done with.

Bard looked at her. ‘I hope you are right in having so much faith in your quest.’ It was him backing off without admitting she may have a point. Tolkien claimed that he was a king in the making now and he certainly seemed to be doing well enough in politics, as far as she could see.

‘I would not have followed my husband on it if I did not have faith in our mission,’ she said dismissively. It was true in its own way. If she would not have had the reassurance of the book, then no matter what Gandalf would have said, she would have found a way to go back home. Good grief, she might even have taken the innkeeper in Bree up on his offer to provide her with shelter, should she want and need it. As it was, knowing that she stood a very good chance of getting out alive, that had made her a little more cooperative, even if _a little_ was the best way to describe her behaviour before Rivendell.

Bard would have replied to that, had he not been interrupted. ‘Father!’ Both bowman and pretend queen turned around to see a young boy running towards them. He could not be older than ten years, was probably younger.

Bard knelt down and the boy ran straight into his father’s arms. The similarities between them were hard to miss and Kate supposed that this was the son Bard had mentioned to her. He looked happy and full of life and energy, the kind of child that chases butterflies to see where they’ll be going. In a way he reminded Kate of herself when she was younger, before everything had gone to hell. He was an innocent, she thought, not at the very least aware of what danger he and his family might be in if the company failed to deal with Smaug before he could unleash his vengeance for helping the dwarves on Esgaroth. She felt a stab of guilt. Telling Bard that her quest was a necessary one was one thing, but to see one of the children who might fall victim to the drake should they fail, that was another thing altogether.

‘Bain, what are you doing here so early?’ Bard asked sternly.

The lad coloured in embarrassment. ‘Mama said the dwarves set out today and I wanted to see them. Please? I’ve not even seen them all week.’

Kate smiled indulgently at the boy’s curiosity. Had she been any different? She did not believe so. ‘They’re over there,’ she pointed. ‘Look, near the boats.’

That got her his attention and his eyes widened. ‘You’re the queen…’ He looked at her as if she was some kind of creature that had walked straight out of legend into the real world.

For a moment Kate wondered how he knew who she was if he had not even seen her before, but she supposed there were enough stories going around about her and both her hair and clothing were rather distinctive.

‘Bain,’ Bard said in a warning voice. ‘Forgive my son, my lady. He…’

Kate raised a hand, forestalling the apology. ‘It’s all right. Curiosity is not a sin.’ And it was not as if she was one to talk. She might even have been worse when she was ten years old. She turned back to Bain. ‘Would you like to meet some of them?’ A plan had formed in her mind and it was about more than giving a little boy what he wanted. Part of her felt guilty for that – since when was she in the business of using kids to achieve her own ends? – but it disappeared when she saw Bain’s dazzling smile.

His father forgotten, he jumped back on the ground and took the hand she’d offered to him without hesitation. The lad all but bounced with excitement and Kate felt herself quite incapable of not smiling back at him. ‘Can I?’ he asked.

‘If your father agrees,’ Kate said. That too was a mean thing to be doing – Bard’s displeased look told her as much – but he could hardly refuse now that his son was looking up at him with begging puppy eyes.

‘Hold my hand and do not let go,’ he ordered brusquely. Apparently he did not like his son’s enthusiasm or he had no great love for dwarves either, no matter what he may have said. Kate would not rule it out. Taken into account how little love the people in Eriador had for Thorin’s people, she might start to think it was a universal thing.

If Bain noticed his father altogether disapproving tone, he did not show it. Probably he was too busy being excited by the prospect of meeting the dwarves he’d heard about all week. The way he looked, Kate suspected he would soon be diagnosed with a severe case of hero-worship. He was still holding her hand, smiling up at her widely.

‘If you’re the queen, what should I call you?’ Bain wondered.

‘You shall address her by her title,’ his father reprimanded him. Bard may be a serious man, who did not seem to be in the business of smiling – a trait he seemed to share with Thorin – but his son was nothing like him in that regard.

‘You may call me Kate,’ she said. ‘There’s no need for titles here.’ She may be using the boy without his knowledge or consent, but she liked him. It was hard not to. ‘Bofur, can you come over here for a moment? There’s someone who wants to meet you.’ The cheerful dwarf certainly would make an impression, of the good kind. Dwalin would be too frightening and several of the others had not given any evidence of knowing how to deal with children. Bofur, with his easy charm, was liked by everybody.

He came over and understood the situation almost right away. As he winked at her, he let the boy hurl question after question at him. The ice broke soon enough. Bain quickly forgot his father’s condition of holding his hand when Bofur presented him with a little toy he’d made during his stay. For what it was worth, the company had surely gained a fan.

Bard was shaking his head as he watched his son’s enthusiasm and then looked at Kate. ‘You are a cleverer woman than I had given you credit for,’ he admitted reluctantly.

Kate, who suspected that this was not entirely a compliment, smiled wryly. ‘I hate the need for it,’ she confessed. ‘It’s what one learns when one has to survive.’ And Bard could not even begin to understand just how true that was. ‘I apologise for using your son in the way that I have.’ She meant it; there was something infinitely wrong about using children as a means to get her way. ‘But I had to.’

The bowman returned her wry smile with interest. ‘If only the beast could be persuaded by your tongue, my lady, I would not fear as much as I do. As it is…’

‘We _will_ give him a good taste of dwarvish iron,’ Kate finished, quoting Ori’s words from the movie. If only she could wish those words to be true, she would not fear so much either.

 

***

 

Thorin was glad when the boats finally left the harbour of Esgaroth. At the moment he’d rather fight Smaug and ten of his kinsmen than that he stayed one minute longer in this town where dirty politics and shady elvish games were the norm. The people had been kind enough, enthusiastic about his return even, but Thorin had needed to deal with the town’s nobility and council, which now apparently included some of Thranduil’s people as well. His men had time to rest and recover from their recent ordeals, but Thorin just felt as if he had rolled from one ordeal straight into the next.

And they were close to home now. Only a few more days and he would be back where he belonged. It did not mean that everything would suddenly be right again, but he could make a start to make them so, to make it into what it was before. But that was a foolish notion, a child’s notion, he knew. Even if they succeeded in defeating the dragon, even if he did not fall to the lure of the gold, even if he did not die in battle, nothing could ever be as it once had been. Too many had died, too much had happened. The good old days would never return. It made him sad.

But it would seem he was one of the few who felt like that. Thorin turned his head around when he heard laughter and found Kate and Bofur sitting on the docks, talking to a human lad who was looking enthusiastically at them. The man standing with them Thorin recognised as Bard, the one who would think it a grave injustice to hand them back to the elves. He was most likely to be the child’s father.

The boy held a toy that would be Bofur’s work; the dwarf king had seen enough of it to recognise it when he happened upon it. In the other hand he had something small that he was showing to Kate. The advisor laughed and said something he could not hear from the distance, but it made the little boy giggle. She was good with children, he observed. This almost automatically led his thoughts back to a dream he wished he’d never dreamed to begin with. The thought of Kate having his children was too painful, because it could never be. Even if by some miracle her mind had changed, he did not know if men and dwarves could even reproduce together. He knew elves and men could, but they had the same creator. Ilúvatar had made both their races, but Mahal had made the dwarves. They could be entirely different.

Catching himself in the act of thinking about things that could never be, he gave himself a mental kick in the behind. He had a dragon to think of and a quest to lead. Standing here would not do either cause much good. ‘Bofur, Catherine!’ he called. ‘We wish to leave!’ If there had been no witnesses, he would have given both of them a good stern look and a spoken reprimand for dawdling, but there were people present, people who kept looking at them. And he would keep up the act for a little longer, because of the men who steered the boats and who would bring them as close to Erebor as they dared to go, which admittedly wasn’t that far. Thorin strongly suspected there was something in the water that made them all so cowardly.

‘On my way,’ Kate called back. She smiled at the boy, spoke a few words to his father and then indeed turned back to Thorin. She greeted the people she passed, but that was a part of the act, the dwarf knew. Kate wasn’t really a people’s person and being kind to persons she either hardly knew or couldn’t stand tended to make her edgy and irritable.

‘We are ready to leave, my lord,’ one of the boatmen said to Thorin.

He nodded. ‘As are we. Prepare to leave within the next five minutes.’ There would be no teary farewells here. The only one who did seem disappointed and sad at their departure was the boy Kate and Bofur had been talking to. Thorin helped Kate into the boat with him and then beckoned Fíli and Kíli to join them. Thorin ignored Dori’s glower at having his sister in a boat with four men – including the boatman – without a chaperone. It was a tight fit already and by the end of the day all of them would certainly be highly uncomfortable.

Fíli and Kíli did not seem burdened by either the knowledge of Smaug ahead and the memory of this town’s particular brand of hospitality as they joined Thorin and Kate in the boat. Quite the contrary, Thorin observed. The lads had been kept away from the negotiations and had used the week’s respite to apparently turn back into a fifty years younger version of themselves.

‘Aunt Catherine, you’re looking positively radiant this morning,’ Kíli commented, winking at her when the boatman could not see. If anything, Thorin’s sister-sons had been great fans of the two of them together as well as being the greatest mockers of the make-believe relationship they’d had to present to the world. And it would seem they were at it again.

Kate however repaid him in his own coin. ‘Nephew Kíli, you are being positively cheerful this morning. Pray tell how you manage this at this rather early hour.’

The two launched into a very insincere conversation about beautiful weather, a lovely lake and the benefits of getting up early, but Thorin listened only with half an ear to their antics. It was good to hear it, though. Mahal knew Kíli had grown up too soon, had too much responsibility on his shoulders for one his age. In the past years Thorin had seen the careless boy make way for a serious young warrior, still with that mischievous streak, but it was more subdued now. Now he saw a little bit of that young boy resurface and it warmed his heart.

The same was true for Kate. She had not been doing much smiling for the past few weeks. Oh, the nobles of the town had been on the receiving end of them more than enough, but the mirth never reached her eyes. The advisor too had grown up faster than Thorin would have liked. A girl had set out on the quest, unwillingly and determined to leave the company as quickly as she could. That Kate was gone now.

He shook his head. No, that Kate was not gone, but she had changed. Thorin Oakenshield would not have developed feelings – because Mahal help him, that was what they were – for a loud-mouthed girl with quick wit. He would have thought her an interesting character, but would never even have considered her in any other way. The woman Kate, the one he’d seen glimpses of from the beginning of the quest, but had only truly shown after their ordeal in the Misty Mountains, that was another matter entirely. She still had the quick wit and the sometimes dangerously short temper, but she also had an insight in politics and the sense to  understand Thorin’s thoughts before he said them. She could behave like an adult.

Thorin would not deny that he was grateful for the change, but at the same time he also resented it. Kate had been changed by all that had befallen the company. He was responsible for the fact that she was no longer who she had been. Would her family in her world still recognise her when she returned? Would she still fit in?

‘You’re deep in thought.’ The subject of his ponderings interrupted his thoughts.

With something of a shock Thorin realised that indeed was the case. In the time he had been thinking about Kate – not the best way to overpower a dragon, he thought wryly – Fíli and Kíli had started an all-out banter battle in the back of the boat, laughing like children, but Kate had come to sit next to him.

‘I was,’ he confirmed. He could not talk freely with the boatman so close. He was one of those that never passed up the opportunity to stare at the dwarves – and the pretend queen – when he got it. Ten to one that he would spend his time listening to their conversations, which he would promptly report back to the people at home, from where the tale might reach the Master’s ears. And that was something he did not want. They still needed to pretend what they had kept up in Esgaroth as well.

‘Penny for them?’ Kate asked.

Thorin frowned. He’d never heard of such a thing. ‘A penny?’ The boatman had his back to them, but he would be listening, of that Thorin was sure. He could not risk asking out right what on earth she meant this time.

Kate fortunately caught on. ‘Whatever you want,’ she said in mock exasperation. ‘You’re greedy today. Piece of silver then?’ That both answered his question and made it look like a bit of innocent banter to their eavesdropper. Kate had grown better at this game, even if Thorin almost desperately wished there would never have been any need for her to become that shrewd.

‘The need for growing up,’ he answered.

The knowing look the woman threw over her shoulder told him she interpreted that as concern for Fíli and Kíli. ‘I see.’ But she didn’t and if he’d had a say in it, she would never find out either. Friends they were, but Kate would see this as a case of fussing over her if she’d ever find out and it had become increasingly apparent she was uncomfortable with that. And it would be good to create some distance between them. _She loves you and has done so for quite some time now, even if she has not always been aware of that herself_ , was what Balin had said. But if that was the truth, Thorin could not see it. The friendship was back now, even if Kate was still on her guard, still not fully trusting him again. It hurt, but he supposed there might be some ground for her icy behaviour. He _had_ acted in an appalling manner. Some day they would need to sit down and talk, but with their eavesdropper still so close and Fíli and Kíli nearby as well, this may not be the time and place for such a discussion.

Thorin shook his head, trying to find a way to express the words without alerting the man close by. In the end he simply settled on Khuzdul, a tongue he could be certain that man did not speak. And Kate’s was workable by now. ‘ _It’s not like that_.’

‘ _You regret that they have to grow up and are happy that they are acting in a more childlike fashion now_.’ The advisor’s Khuzdul was still heavily accented, but she had made more progress than Thorin had believed possible. Of course there had been days that she was stuck with Ori and Balin on the end of the column, speaking Khuzdul all day. The results of those lessons were evident now. ‘ _It is easy to understand_.’

The dwarf decided not to comment on it. If anything, this was not easy, especially not for her. Even for all her more adult-like behaviour, she had never been in a position where she was forced to watch younger relatives grow up in order to stay alive. He could only hope and pray she would never have to experience such a thing. But instead of saying that, he switched the subject. ‘ _You have made progress_ ,’ he told her.

And it worked; Kate snorted. ‘ _I should hope so. Ori’s been bullying me into learning it and he’s a good teacher_.’ She glanced towards one of the bigger boats, where her brother could be seen trying to draw whatever it was that he was seeing. The expression on her face became serious again. ‘ _We should start thinking about the dragon, shouldn’t we?_ ’

Something told the dwarf king that had been the sole cause of her coming here, to discuss the attack on Smaug. No doubt it had been on both their minds for the past week – with the Mountain on the horizon, they hardly could not think about it – but they had avoided the topic in conversation like the plague, deliberately, Thorin knew. They both knew the contents of the book, both knew that this was the one thing they needed to truly change, because everything else that needed changing started with the dragon.

‘ _We should_.’ It didn’t mean he knew what to do with it.

They were silent for a while, but in the end Kate just shook her head. ‘ _Would it really be too simple to say that we go in, find that cursed weak spot of his and send a sword in it to end it all? You know, the tried and tested way of sticking him with the pointy end?_ ’ Thorin arched an eyebrow at her, which Kate correctly translated as an unspoken invitation to elaborate. ‘ _We send Bilbo in to scout, tell him to do only that and not take anything else, the dragon keeps on dreaming of whatever it is a dragon dreams about and we go in for the kill while he is still snoring the day away._ ’ She threw her hands up into the air in what appeared to be exasperation. ‘ _I’ve been thinking about it for ages, and there’s just no other plan that I can possibly come up with, one that does not end in complete disaster, that is_.’

‘Simple and to the point,’ Kíli commented in the Common Tongue. ‘I like it.’

Kate turned around to him. ‘Shall we add suicidal to the list?’ she asked sarcastically.

 _But also our only option_. The thought was settling in Thorin’s mind, even though he was none too fond of it. He himself had been thinking of grand schemes to lure the dragon to a place where his company would have the advantage. Few of them had sounded like a good plan and even less had sounded like doable and safe. Not that safe was any consideration when one was planning on battling a dragon. He had known that when he planned to go on this quest. People might die, would die, but it did not mean that he had to accept that as a fact, not while it might still be within his power to do something about it.

Maybe he should even go as far as to consider what Kate was saying. Yes, she had spoken in jest and not in earnest, but who knew? A hare-brained scheme it may be, a foolish scheme too, but sometimes it were the foolish ones that succeeded. After all, he had been on a fool’s errand from the start and here he was, closer to home than he had been in well over a century and a half. His heart soared at the very sight of it, beating faster with excitement and a longing he could not quite define, but that was powerful. For some reason, everything suddenly seemed possible now that he was here again. Mahal be good, if they did manage to kill the dragon in his lair, his people might stand a chance of having a life again, one of peace and plenty. Even he might have a chance of having a future and a life.

He looked at Kate, now laughing again with Kíli, keeping their conversation Khuzdul only to not alarm their guide with their wholly inappropriate jokes, and shook his head, his optimism vanishing as quickly as it had come. No, he may yet live through this, but it did not mean that he would truly have the life he’d come to hope for. He had been a fool for doing it, a fool for even allowing himself any hope. Even if Balin had spoken true and Kate did feel something, if only a fraction of what he had come to feel for her, it would not make her stay. Her ties to her own world were strong, far stronger than any ties she had formed in this world. She had a family she loved dearly and Thorin knew she missed them. The advisor did not talk about them often, but he knew it had been one of her strongest motivations to fight so hard for her return to her own world. And every now and then he would catch a distant look or she would comment on something, referencing her brother or her mother, indicating that they may not be always at the forefront of her thoughts, but they were never far away from her mind either. She ought to go back to them, as Gandalf had intended it to be from the start.

It did mean he would remain behind, but Thorin knew how to bear loss. In his darkest moments he used to wonder whether loss was not all he had ever known. Most of his family was gone because of the dragon and the result of being driven away from their homeland. He would face it again. What choice did he have anyway? He had a duty to his people, one he could not shy away from, whatever the personal cost may be. His grandfather had taught him that from a very young age. To a younger Thorin it had only been words, but those days had long since passed. Now he lived and breathed them and there was many a day he passionately wished he had been born a miner’s lad or a blacksmith’s son. Life may not have treated him any kinder then, but at least he’d not have to shoulder all that responsibility and he would not need to be strong all the time. With some shock he realised that he might have chosen his own path then.

A burst of laughter from behind him made him look around at his sister-sons, who were overcome with mirth. Kate was looking at the scene with what looked like indulgent amusement, but she did not join in and when she turned her head in Thorin’s direction, there may be a smile on her face, but her eyes betrayed that she was thinking.

She caught his glance and shook her head. ‘ _Whatever it is that’s making you look like that, I’d wish you’d just tell me, you know_.’ The tone of voice was weary. She spoke in his tongue and Fíli and Kíli were too busy remembering what children should act like – and Thorin would not begrudge them that, for all too soon the responsible heirs would have to resurface – to hear her words. ‘ _You’ve been keeping secrets, we’re not talking anymore like we used to…_ ’ The frustration was too obvious to miss. ‘ _We’re friends, remember. You don’t have to do everything on your own_.’ She shrugged. ‘ _And if you really want the truth, I just hate to be shut out like that_ ,’ she added under her breath, but loud enough for him to make out the words.

Had he? Had he been shutting her out? He supposed that, if he too was really honest, he had done that. But not about the quest. He had always discussed that openly with her. It was the personal that he could not reveal to her, for she would not want to hear it. Yes, he had intended to speak out, but Kate had beaten him there, and not in the way he had hoped for. Quite the contrary, she’d made it quite clear that nothing had ever been between them, nor would there ever be.

‘ _I was thinking of home_ ,’ he replied. It was not the whole truth, but it was enough of it and he knew he’d get away with it.

Kate nodded. ‘ _We’re close now_.’ She flashed him a quick smile. ‘ _Let’s just hope Smaug hasn’t neglected his household duties too much._ ’

The flippancy missed its target though. He appreciated her attempt at normal banter, but there was too much on his mind to feel even remotely in the mood for that. ‘ _Aye_ ,’ he agreed nevertheless. ‘ _And once we’ve reclaimed it, you can go back to yours_.’

The look in the woman’s eyes was thoughtful now. ‘ _You’re right_.’ She shook her head. ‘ _But I can’t afford to think of that just yet. There’s too much that needs attention first, you know_.’

‘ _But you miss it_ ,’ Thorin stated. He didn’t know why he was tormenting himself thus; he didn’t need to hear her say the words to know how she felt about this subject, for she had shown it often enough in a way that was far more effective than any words.

‘ _Yes, I do_ ,’ Kate confirmed. ‘ _As I will miss Middle Earth when I am home again_.’ She sighed. ‘ _Torn between two worlds. Sometimes I do wonder in which one I belong._ If _I even truly belong anywhere._ ’ She caught his questioning look and elaborated: ‘ _I’ll never fit in here. I’m not a fighter and I don’t understand the customs of this world. Whichever way I turn, I find myself at fault. I’m not like the women here; I can’t hold my tongue, I constantly trip over those far too long skirts and I never seem to be able to remember your customs_.’ She grimaced. ‘ _But then, I’ve seen too much to fit in where I came from. The people there are so shallow in comparison with what I’ve seen here. Good grief, the whole nation’s in an uproar when a celebrity as much as trips over their own toes and breaks a leg. Their concerns sometimes seem so… petty. And when I lived there, I sometimes thought it the greatest disaster that could happen to me when I missed the deadline for handing in an article. How on earth am I ever going to fit in with people who still worry themselves sick over things like that when I’ve had to fight for my life?_ ’ Kate gave some kind of ‘hmpf’ sound as she drew her cloak tighter around her. ‘ _I’d bet all my money Gandalf never as much thought about that when he abducted me from the street_.’

She was blowing off steam and Thorin felt honoured that she apparently trusted him enough to confide in him with something that was apparently so important to her. He did however not like what this said about him. She had trusted him, but yet he had not worked up the courage to extend the same courtesy to her. ‘I do not have an answer,’ he told her.

‘I did not expect you to have any,’ she retorted. ‘I doubt there are answers and if there are, I sincerely doubt they’re easy ones.’

He would have to agree with her there. And he only needed to look at his Mountain to realise it.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I can’t think of why on earth I blurted all that out. It’s not as if he’s been so busy telling me of his concerns and yet I just couldn’t keep my bloody mouth well and truly shut._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events in Bree that Kate thinks about in this chapter are in chapter 2 of Duly Noted.   
> Next time: Kate makes a confession, but she doesn’t do that willingly. Until then, please review?


	58. Inconvenient Truth

_The trip by boat lasted three days and I liked it only slightly better than the journey by barrel. Oh, the men of Lake-town were skilled enough to be sure, but between all the luggage stuffed away in every available corner of the boat and the dwarves occupying the space the boatmen were not, things had the annoying tendency of becoming rather cramped. Add to that the fact that we still had to watch our tongues around them and Thorin and I having to keep up the act of being a married couple, and I certainly wasn’t in the best of moods. The prospect of having to kill a dragon did not exactly help either._

_Because that was what it all was about really. I may have been avoiding the subject, but all the time it was there, waiting for us. And now we were so close that it could no longer be ignored. My plan to attack Smaug in his sleep was accepted by lack of a better alternative. Honestly, there was no alternative. Well, the book offered one, but no one seemed to be in a hurry to set the dragon on the people who had after all taken us in. It would be poor repayment indeed._

_We had to be careful to discuss our plans though. It would never do to let the guides know that we quite frankly had no idea what we were even doing. The closer we came to the Mountain, the more nervous they became. We hardly needed to make it worse for them._

_I could see Thorin was vexed by it though. And that was understandable too. So far, I observed, whenever there was a mention of the dragon and the need to end the beast, people grew rather cowardly. Thorin had implied that this was the very reason why Dáin had opted out and I had seen the reaction of Thranduil and Lord Erland for myself. I wasn’t eager to fight a dragon either – and I would at least have the good fortune to be kept away from the monster, because my brothers would never let me anywhere near the drake – but that didn’t mean I did not see the need for it. And maybe it was easier for me because I had the book to fall back on, for reassurance that, even should our plan fail, Smaug would probably still get shot by Bard. The thought that if this should happen, the company would all be dead, I banished conveniently to the back of my mind._

_Optimism truly was our best friend in those days. The lands around us were bleak and barren and not much grew. There was a lonely tree here, a single bush there and, if we were very lucky, even a patch of grass occasionally. It wasn’t much, but then it was called the Desolation of Smaug for a reason. And I had never seen a place that more was like a desolation than that._

_It is therefore perhaps understandable that I wasn’t exactly happy when our guides announced they would take us no further…_

 

Kate could see Thorin’s brows knit together as the boatmen informed him that this was as far as they dared to go. Over the last few days he had been giving off clear signs to anyone with eyes exactly what he thought about the attitude towards the men of Esgaroth towards his quest. On one hand they were more enthusiastic about Thorin’s return than anyone had any right to be in Kate’s opinion, because they were all too happy about the prospect of getting rich. On the other hand though they were not very eager to play any part in making sure those riches would come their way. Kate was not the real queen, but even she could see that there was something very wrong with that.

Thorin went to oversee the unloading of the boats and sent her to make sure Balin didn’t do anything. He was still not fully recovered and was under strict orders to do as little as possible. It was one of Thorin’s conditions of letting him come with them in the first place. Balin had blown a raspberry at that, but Thorin had kept his foot down and in the end the elderly dwarf had given in.

‘He sent you to make sure I didn’t help out, didn’t he?’ he asked as Kate sat down next to him on the blanket they’d put on the ground to ensure their backsides wouldn’t freeze. The he didn’t need to be identified in this case.

‘He might have,’ Kate admitted. There was hardly any point in denying it anyway. Besides, she shared the sentiment. Balin had come to mean something to her and she was no more eager to see him catch his death because he had overexerted himself in some way than Thorin was. If that meant she had now been promoted to glorified child-minder, then so be it.

‘For my good, eh?’ Balin said, pre-empting her, which was a good thing, because saying those words to an elderly dwarf was not all that respectful and she knew it.

‘Thorin means well,’ she replied.

The indulgent half-smile was back on Balin’s face now, making him look as much of an indulgent grandfather as Kate had ever thought him. And that was a relief after his violent fever. The quiet dignity was back. There was something oddly reassuring about at least something being the way it should be. With things being so uncertain and frightening it was good to have something that was as it should be.

Because she would be lying to herself shamelessly if she said she was entirely comfortable here. Quite the contrary actually. She was not even entirely sure how cowardly she truly believed the people of Lake-town to be. Could she really fault them for wanting to get the hell out of here? They had a place to return to, and a good chance of never being bothered by Smaug when they were safely back in their town again. The company had nothing to go back to. They had to press on.

And the same was true for Kate. If she was very lucky, returning home would only take a few more weeks for her and then she would be back where she belonged. She could go back and start working on an explanation for her lengthy absence. And when all that was done, she could start to forget. She had to forget if she ever wanted to function properly in her own society again.

But a voice in the back of her head told her that things would not be that easy. She prided herself in knowing Tolkien’s works rather well and she knew what had become of Bilbo after his there and back again adventure. Yes, he had returned home, but he had never been quite the same hobbit, what with his oddities and queer visitors. One could simply not go through so many dangers and adventures and come out unchanged. Bilbo, she had seen, was already a very different kind of person than he had been when she had first met him and she knew that she was different as well. What was true for Bilbo in the book, was likely to apply to her as well. Would she become a stranger in her own land, an outsider longing for days long past in a land she could never reach? _Longing for a man you’ll never have_ , a voice in the back of her head added. Kate squashed it. Thorin was the last thing she should have on her mind right now. It was bad enough as it was.

‘That he does, lass.’ Balin looked around him wistfully, taking in the area around them.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ the advisor asked hesitantly. She might be crossing some line or other by intruding on the personal, but the dwarf looked rather forlorn and undeniably sad. He would remember what this region had looked like in the good old days, in the days long before she was even born, when her world was still in the process of inventing electricity and the like. The thought was a strange one.

‘It was beautiful once,’ Balin said. He did not seem offended by her question in the least, for which she was grateful. ‘The mountainsides were covered with pines and firs and when there was wind, we could sometimes smell them inside Erebor.’ His eyes were distant as he recounted it. ‘The lands were green and fertile and even though we were not creatures to live above the ground much then, we sometimes went out to enjoy it all the same.’ He gave Kate a knowing look. ‘We dwarves may not have a great love of the surface and the trees and bushes that grow on it, but there have always been exceptions and we do all love beautiful things. This area was.’

That led Kate to ponder something. ‘You seemed pretty impressed by some of the landscapes we’ve seen on this journey.’

‘An oddity of mine,’ the dwarf admitted. ‘It’s the legacy of our exile, lass. We’ve not always been able to live underground, as we would have wanted. We’re no proper dwarves anymore to some of our kinsmen, because we’ve changed so much since Smaug came and took our home.’ His eyes strayed to the Mountain, bathing in the light of the setting afternoon sun.

‘Surely change is a natural thing,’ the advisor said.

‘Not with our people,’ he corrected her. ‘You’ve travelled with us for some months now, but you have only seen a group of exiled dwarves who have strayed a long way from the ways of our people. If you were to meet any “proper dwarves,” you’d know what I mean.’

Kate shrugged, trying to decide if she should be offended at what felt like an accusation of ignorance. She opted on not taking offence; Balin was unlikely to mean it in an unpleasant way. He was just too kind for that kind of thing. ‘I’d say that’s a very dangerous term to be using,’ she observed. ‘Degrading, even. We’re all unique. Makes it kind of hard to mark someone as “normal” when everyone’s different.’ _Oh dear, are you starting to sound like some soppy, clichéd fanfiction heroine right now_. To correct that, she added: ‘Anyway, those “proper dwarves” of yours sound pretty boring to me.’

‘They would not like you either,’ Balin informed her.

Kate grinned. ‘It’s a good thing I’ll probably never meet them, then,’ she said. ‘By the time the kingdom will be restored, I’ll be long gone.’

She ignored the pang of sadness that was trying to convince her that this was a very bad thing. Matters were complicated enough as they were. Leaving would be difficult, she had known that since the moment she truly accepted that she was on this quest and that she would not be capable to maintain her emotional distance from this lot. Dori, Nori and Ori had shattered that decision rather spectacularly by adopting her as their sister. It was not the kind of thing one turned down.

And things had only gone from bad to worse after that. Thorin was the most obvious example and she could do without thinking about that right now, but it was more than just him. It was Bombur crushing her in a bearlike hug after his cousin’s death, it was Balin’s gentle friendliness and Kíli’s sometimes wholly inappropriate jokes. Sometime during the quest she had become part of the gang. Leaving them all behind was not going to be easy in any way.

Torn between two worlds. That was what she had said to Thorin as well two days ago and she feared it was the truth. Middle Earth was not home to her, would never be home, but the people with whom she had been exploring it had become a family and that was something she had never believed possible, not after that horrible start they’d made. Yes, she would miss them dearly when the time to part ways finally came.

But her longing to be home again was no less strong. It had been forced to the back of her mind by events from time to time, but it was never too far away either. Home, where things would make sense and where the worst thing that could happen was that the bus was late. It sounded like heaven and yet at the same time mundane and meaningless. But there were people there she wanted to see again. She missed her mother’s kind smile and Jacko’s mischievous grin. She missed shopping with Laura and Anna, laughing like children as because of jokes others wouldn’t even think of as funny.

 _Bloody wizard, making me feel like that_ , she thought angrily. She blamed the whole mess on him and rightly so, she believed. Of course he could not have tried to change the outcome of the quest all by himself, he left that to others, to people like Bilbo and her, who wanted nothing better to stay in their own homes and have a perfectly boring life, just like the people they were surrounded by. And now neither of them would ever be able to go back to that, because Gandalf had come along and had nudged them out of their doors and onto this adventure. Gandalf may have the greater good in mind, as he had to, but she hated him for it at the same time.

‘You could stay for some time,’ Balin suggested. ‘You’d like the beauty of Erebor.’ He looked at the Mountain again. ‘What’s left of it.’

Kate flashed him a quick smile, but shook her head. ‘The sooner I’m back home, the better it will be. My family’s probably worried sick for me.’ If that was what they were. Kate didn’t even attempt to fool herself. She had been gone for approximately six months now and while she had been running through Goblin-town, fighting orcs and getting thrown in a dungeon with a supposedly fictional dwarf king, her family must gradually have given up hope that she would ever come home again. There would have been no clue to point them in the right direction. When she had disappeared, the street had been empty, so there were no witnesses. Maybe the police would have found the brochures from _Magical Trips_ , but they would soon find that such a company did not exist. And then they would come to a dead end and her case would become a cold case. They might give her up as a lost cause. Kate’s fist clenched in frustration. ‘They might believe me dead already.’ She hated the fact that she suddenly seemed incapable of speaking in anything louder than a whisper. ‘I cannot leave them in uncertainty any longer than strictly necessary. To do so would be cruel.’ To both them and her. And the longer she’d linger here, the more difficult it would be for her to leave. No, she should go as soon as she had the opportunity. First chance she got and she would be out of here.

Balin nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s not been easy, has it?’

Kate shrugged, wrapping her arms around her knees the way she had done when she first had a conversation with him on Bilbo’s garden bench. That felt like a lifetime ago now, something another Kate had done. ‘I suppose this is what exile feels like,’ she muttered. And yet the exile had not been a complete torment. She had known good moments here as well. Wasn’t that why her heart was in acute danger of being broken in the first place?

The dwarf patted her knee. ‘There have been good times as well,’ he reminded her, making Kate wonder if he had perhaps read her mind. ‘You have made friends here.’ He stated it like a fact, which it was, the advisor observed wryly.

‘I did,’ she admitted. There was after all no denying that fact. ‘But there’s no real choice, Balin. My family needs to know.’ She shook her head again. ‘It’s just one big mess. This was never even meant to happen and yet it did. I need to put that right again, soon as possible.’ So Gandalf had better turn up quickly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see this through, but after I have to go. It’s as it should be.’ It was like the way things went in the Narnia books she so loved. The children came in, helped the Narnians solve their problems and then Aslan sent them back to their own world, because that was where they were meant to spend their lives. It would be no different in her case.

‘We would regret it to see you go, lass,’ Balin remarked. ‘You’d be a hero amongst our kind.’

Kate snorted before she could stop herself from doing so. ‘I’m no hero.’ _I’m a bloody coward, more like_. ‘And like you said, the proper dwarves wouldn’t like outsiders.’ Something told her the old dwarf was hinting at something else as well, but she sincerely hoped not. It was difficult enough to lie to herself, but she was loath to tell lies to one so kind as Balin.

Her reply drew a chuckle from him. ‘I’ve not met many who had the courage to insult the goblin king and the elven king in their own halls.’

‘I’m not sure courage has anything to do with it,’ Kate said. Her stupidity, yes, that was more like it. ‘And I’m not sure I want to stay.’ _You rotten liar, you do want, at least a part of you does._ Kate ignored it. ‘I wasn’t made for this place. What Gandalf did… I’m not sure it was even meant to be.’ _But at least now there’s a chance you may save lives_. That had to be worth something. Was it worth her peace of mind?

‘There are very many things in this world that were never meant to be,’ Balin said sadly. He looked around him again, taking in the devastated land. Kate could see what he meant by that. If his stories could be believed, and she did believe him, then this had been a beautiful land. And Smaug had destroyed all the beauty in it. She would probably feel heartbroken as well if someone had laid waste to her home in such a way. To be honest, the desolation reminded her a bit of a scene where a bomb had just gone off. It was like a place of death, where the living had no place. Smaug would doubtlessly agree with her on that one.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. And she was. She was curious to see what this may have looked like before it was destroyed. She also knew that she would never see this place restored to its former glory. ‘I really am.’

‘It’s not you who’s answerable for what the dragon’s done,’ Balin reminded her. He sounded grim now, something Kate found hard to rhyme with the gentle dwarf she knew. He sounded like a police officer who’s about to bring a criminal to justice. With something of a shock she realised that was exactly what he was. Now that he was close to the home he’d lost so long ago, determination rang in his every word. She had seen that already when he had gone up against Thorin, demanding that he was taken on the quest same as the others. Old, gentle dwarf indeed.

‘We’ll kill him,’ Kate said with more determination than she felt.

The smile was back now. ‘Aye, that we will.’ Balin nodded. ‘I’ve never read that book of yours, but I do believe we will end the dragon’s reign.’

‘Well, that’s… good.’ Kate wondered where all that confidence had come from. The only effect Erebor had on her so far was a desperate urge to run. Away from it.

Balin went on as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘I do believe Thorin and you will see sense in the end as well.’

Oh, she had been right about the double meaning in his words. ‘Balin…’ she said, warning him not to continue. Last thing she needed was to make the situation any more complicated than it already was. She was coming to accept that there would never be more than friendship between them, was finally succeeding in hiding those unwelcome feelings behind a strong wall. She was not about to let this dwarf break it down.

He went on regardless. ‘No, listen to me.’ He was quite forbidding now. ‘I’ve seen a lot of events in my life, most of them sad and tragic. Mahal knows what awaits us in the Mountain.’ The kind grandfather had quite disappeared as he looked at the advisor. Instead she was looking at a stern grandfather now. ‘You love Thorin.’ It was as much a conclusion as his observation about her having made friends had been.

Kate did not bother to deny it. Instead she switched the topic. ‘I think we had already established that my love life, or lack thereof, is private.’ There was anger boiling underneath the surface, just ready to come out and burn everyone who was too close to her. She was done with this, had been for quite some time and Balin playing the matchmaker was just the final straw. She snapped. ‘I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that nothing is happening between us, neither has there or will there ever.’ And the sooner she herself accepted that truth, the better it would be for everyone involved. ‘I am not in love with him.’ _No, but you do love him_. Being in love was something Kate associated with silly teenage girls who were tripping over themselves in their hurry to get at whoever it was that had caught their fancy. Here today and gone tomorrow. Loving someone was something more, something infinitely stronger. And that, she knew, she did.

And apparently Balin knew it too, although how he knew was a mystery to the woman. ‘You do love him, though.’

 _I don’t_. The words however refused to cross her lips. It was too much of a lie. ‘Enough!’ she snarled at him. If she had been calm, she would never have behaved in such a way, she knew, but she was not calm. ‘It is none of your concern what I do and do not feel for anyone. We handle this quest and once that is over, I’m going home. Nothing will be able to keep me here, no matter what you’ve deluded yourself into thinking. And I don’t need any attachments weighing me down any more than they already do!’ The panic that was bubbling up out of nowhere was making it difficult to breathe and she did not even know why she was panicking. But she was. It felt as if she was in danger and her instinct screamed at her to get up and run. When she made to obey it, she found that Balin had taken hold of her wrist, effectively preventing her from going anywhere. For such an old dwarf, there was still a lot of strength in his grasp. ‘Let go of me!’

‘So you can run away again, lass?’

Kate glared at him, her heart beating far too fast to be healthy. She tried to wriggle her hand out of Balin’s grasp, but found herself too weak to do so. The panic intensified. ‘I’m not running away from anything,’ she hissed. _Except from a meddling old coot_. She had enough sense to at least keep that to herself.

The dwarf shook his head. ‘You’re…’

‘… An annoying woman, a burden and the most useless person around here?’ Kate finished. ‘Yes, thanks, I knew that already. I get it.’

‘Scared,’ Balin ended as if she had never interrupted him.

And that struck her with silence, because that was something she had not seen coming at all. Heaven knew that almost all of the others had at one time or another accused her of cowardice, but never Balin and never about something that was as intensely personal as this. ‘Let. Go.’ The words came from between clenched teeth.

The reply was dignified silence.

‘You have _no_ idea what this is like!’ she snapped, the words coming out unchecked. She could not even stop herself. It was as if someone had pulled a switch in her head, preventing her from stop talking. ‘I’m torn in half enough as it is. I don’t need that bloody dwarf to be thrown into the mix as well!’ _Stop it, Andrews_ , her brain advised her. _Before you’re saying something you’ll regret_. But she was beyond caring now. ‘What the hell do you want?’

Balin shook his head with something that appeared to be pity. ‘Stop fooling yourself, Kate,’ he counselled her.

‘So you want what?’ she demanded. ‘Admit that I love Thorin Oakenshield?’

Again, she was answered with silence. The grip around her wrist had not loosened one bit.

‘Fine!’ If she had the use of her hands, she would have thrown them up in the air in exasperation. ‘Have it your way. I love Thorin. There, I’ve said it. Are you bloody well happy now?’ The mental wall she had built around her feelings had come crumbling down as she finally admitted what she had known for some time now, but never had dared to admit to anyone but herself. It lay in pieces at her feet and she had never felt so vulnerable, or so defenceless, not even when that orc had come at her with that sword in his hand in Mirkwood. Her chest ached and she was not even sure why it did that.

Balin met her reply with silence, but this time she was enough compos mentis to realise this was because his attention was no longer on her, but rather on something that was happening behind her. Alarmed, she looked up, looking right in the face of Thorin Oakenshield, whose face was blank with shock as he stared at her. _Oh, shit!_

 

***

 

It was like being hit with a sledgehammer, Thorin imagined, but he could not be certain, because his mind was reeling with the impact of the woman’s words and he was fighting to hang onto any form of coherency. It was a fight he seemed doomed to lose before he had even begun to fight it.

And to think that he used to think it was Balin’s well-being he needed to be concerned for. If anything, he had never been as wrong in all his life. When he had sent the men of Esgaroth on their way – something they’d done gladly; the more distance between them and the Mountain, the better they would think it – and had turned around to alert the advisor and his friend that they would move out soon, he had found them caught up in some fierce argument of one sort or the other. Balin had seemed composed enough, but Kate had given every impression of being on the verge of explosion, looking more dangerous than any dragon as she directed as angry a stare as she was capable of at Thorin’s closest friend.

That would never do. Not to mention that it was very unlike Kate to behave in such a fashion. Yes, she was known to lose her temper frequently, but never with Balin. That was a new development Thorin did not particularly like.  He had already begun to march over, a demand of what in Durin’s name was going on here on his lips, when he was stopped by Kate’s voice. ‘Let go of me!’ she hissed, strengthening the idea of an angry dragon about to tear their prey to pieces.

When he looked better he saw that Balin had the woman in some kind of death grip around her right wrist and was clearly not intending to let go of aforementioned wrist anytime soon, or so it would appear. ‘So you can run away again, lass?’ he questioned. The tone of voice reminded Thorin a lot of the one he had used when he was practically demanding of Thorin to let him come to retake Erebor from the firedrake. What was happening here? Running away? Was Kate planning on breaking her oath, abandoning them now their destination was so near? Thorin found that hard to believe. Lately Kate had truly been fighting for their cause with a determination that may even rival Thorin’s own. No, it _had_ to be something else.

‘I’m not running away from anything!’ Kate was getting well and truly worked up now, a very bad thing, as Thorin knew all too well. In the period of the quest he now referred to as pre-Rivendell they’d had a lot of arguments that had gone along the same lines as this one and whenever Kate Andrews started to sound like that, she was really angry. But that was the strange thing of it; Kate had shouted and hissed at him, never at Balin. They had always been friendly to one another, had never even argued as far as he was aware. Kate had been annoyed on occasion, but it never lasted long; when they had been in Mirkwood she had claimed that it was quite impossible to remain cross with Balin for long, if one could manage it at all, which she doubted.

Balin shook his head. He was not yet as angry as the woman, but his temper was rapidly running out. Thorin had known him long enough to know. ‘No, you’re…’

Kate interrupted. ‘… An annoying woman, a burden and the most useless person around here?’ she suggested, eyes blazing with rage and something that looked remarkably like panic. She had looked like that when she had been disarmed and the orc had been about to end her. ‘Yes, _thanks_ , I knew that already. I get it.’

‘Scared,’ Balin finished.

Thorin was starting to feel like he had ended up dreaming. He must be, because Balin was doing quite a lot of things he didn’t often do. Oh, he could be hard and unyielding whenever a situation asked for it, but he had never been anything but friendly and gentle towards the company advisor, right from the start. It did not make sense.

It did to Kate. He could almost see the flames in her eyes as she spoke again. ‘Let. Go.’ The words were nothing but a growl. When it didn’t look like the elderly dwarf was about to obey, she went on. ‘You have _no_ idea what this is like! I’m torn in half enough as it is. I don’t need that bloody dwarf to be thrown into the mix as well! What the hell do you _want_?’ She tried in vain to gain control over her own limbs again. Balin was clearly determined not to grant her wishes.

And Thorin feared that he knew what this was about. _I’m torn in half enough as it is. I don’t need that bloody dwarf to be thrown into the mix as well!_ That was what she had just shouted. And then another speech, from a few days ago, resurfaced. _Torn between two worlds. Sometimes I do wonder in which one I belong._ If _I even truly belong anywhere._ That was what she had said when they had been discussing her wish to go home. It didn’t explain the “bloody dwarf” she had made mention of, but Thorin had a lingering suspicion about who she could mean. He squashed the tiny bit of hope he started to feel in spite of himself. He could not afford to think about that, not yet.

But Balin’s next words rekindled the flame he had been trying to extinguish. ‘Stop fooling yourself, Kate,’ he told her. _The lass is nearly as good in fooling herself as she is in fooling you._ But no, it could not be. If he could not trust the evidence of his own observations, then what could he trust? He had seen that she had not cared for him the way he knew he did for her, very much against his own will even. No, he must be interpreting this all the wrong way, he had to.

‘So you want what?’ Kate questioned. ‘Admit that I love Thorin Oakenshield?’ But maybe he had been thinking the right thing. Admitting suggested that she only had to acknowledge something that was already there. He felt that his heart beat was speeding up and he couldn’t let it. He ought to walk away before he heard something he could not bear to hear. He had a quest to lead and Kate could still forcefully deny the existence of any such feeling in her own rather tactless way. And rationally he knew she did not feel anything for him that was more than friendship. Like he had thought before, no one could act that well, especially not the company advisor.

Kate was still in full flow, though, and Thorin found himself rooted on the spot. ‘Fine!’ she exclaimed in exasperation. ‘Have it your way. I love Thorin. There, I’ve said it. Are you bloody well happy now?’

The world stopped turning and for a moment Thorin suspected his heart stopped beating. And he didn’t quite understand why it did that. These were the words he’d been hoping for and even more so because she meant them. But they had been spoken in anger, as if the woman who’d said them was fighting against it, forced into admitting them. It was a mixture of hurt and joy warring for dominance in his chest, underneath the shock and surprise that were already present. Yes, he had hoped that he had been thinking along the right lines, but when Kate did say the words, they still came out of the blue. And now it was difficult to decide what to feel.

He felt Balin’s gaze on him and maybe he had made a sound, because Kate suddenly turned around, anger and, to Thorin’s surprise, fear written all over her face. She caught his glance and then paled, anger making way for shock and embarrassment. ‘Oh, shit,’ she muttered. The dwarf king didn’t think she was even aware she had spoken out loud. ‘Excuse me, I’m… I’ve…’ She didn’t finish her apology, got up as fast as she could now that Balin had let go of her arm and hurried past him, pointedly avoiding looking in his direction as she almost tripped over her own feet in her hurry to get away.

Thorin didn’t even think when he reached out to grab her arm as she moved past him, but he had underestimated her speed. Kate Andrews may not be much of a fighter, but she could run well and she dodged his arm, making a dash for her brothers, a place where Thorin was none too eager to follow her to, lest he unleashed Dori’s wrath.

‘Kate!’ he called after her, not even sure why he was doing what he was doing. He merely did it. His brain seemed to have been switched off for the moment, too preoccupied to determine what to feel and what to think to pay any attention to what he was in fact doing and saying. ‘Come back!’

The advisor paid him no heed. It was as if Azog himself was at her heels, she was running that fast and she was not looking back even once, seemingly completely unaware of the storm in Thorin’s feelings she had unleashed. And there was not a chance of him going after her when she had sought refuge with her brothers. He was not about to demand answers out of her with Dori looking on; such a thing could only lead to the well-known Galas-treatment and that he could do without.

Instead he moved to sit on the blanket on which Balin was already sitting. His oldest friend looked rather smug, or he would have done if he could do it without destroying his image of calm dignity he wore like a second cloak. Something told the dwarf king that his overhearing of the argument was not as coincidental as he may have thought at first. This was planned.

‘You knew I was there,’ he stated. Thorin had long since known that Balin was practising his skills as matchmaker, because he was concerned with Thorin’s happiness, or so he said. Thorin himself was suspecting that he had spent too much time learning the art of manipulation from a wizard he well knew, but he could not prove it.

And if this was an attempt to ensure his happiness, then he was not sure if it was working. Thorin prided himself in being an organised being, one who could sort out his priorities, who put his people’s needs far before his own, but now he was feeling as if he was losing his grip on who he should be. Even the dragon had been banished from his mind for the time being, as was the need for finding a good place to set up camp. Kate’s snapped confessions of feelings she had denied for weeks had effectively caught him off balance, left his mind reeling with the consequences of this unexpected development. He should be focused on the quest, as they should both be, but nothing was further from Thorin’s mind and he had a lingering suspicion that the same was true for Kate.

‘Aye.’ Balin did not even bother to deny it, for which Thorin was grateful.

‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Balin, it is not to be.’ But at the same time he was wondering. He had remarked to Kate that she had missed her home. _Yes, I do_ , she had agreed. _As I will miss Middle Earth when I am home again._ Her words indicated that she did not prefer one world over the other; she rather feared she would fit in neither anymore after her adventure. Yet she preferred her own home, because she missed her family. He had no doubt that this was something that she genuinely felt, but sometimes it felt to him as if she regarded it her duty to go back, almost as if her heart urged her to remain.

‘Why, laddie?’ Balin shot back.

‘She has a life to return to,’ he replied, trying to keep his eyes on what his men were doing rather than try to seek out the place Kate had run off to. He was not willing to commit himself to a relationship if it was not for life. And Kate would leave, especially when she had a duty to others. ‘And because this has never happened before.’ And it should not be. It was easy enough to hope for something that he already knew would never be and disregard what society thought of it, but suddenly it had started to look like a real possibility and that threw obstructions in the way. He was the heir to Durin’s line and it was a fact commonly known that dwarves did not choose spouses from individuals of another race. It was not done. If he had been a nobody, then maybe, yes. But he was the king.

‘You’ve grown nearly as skilled in fooling yourself as she has, laddie,’ Balin remarked.

‘It isn’t done, Balin,’ Thorin said forcefully. ‘And that is the end of it.’ He stood up, signalling this conversation was indeed at its end. ‘You should not encourage it.’

Balin pretended to be deaf as he too got to his feet again. ‘When Erebor is ours again, you’ll be hailed a hero, lad,’ he reminded his king. ‘You’ll have gained the right to make some controversial decisions.’

Maybe. ‘It will not absolve Kate from her duty towards her family.’ And that was the truth. As far as Thorin was concerned, that was where they stood. Yes, Kate had admitted to feeling something akin to what he felt for her, but that didn’t mean all their troubles were now solved. They had only just begun. Kate was clearly not planning on acting on her feelings, the way she had been when she had still been intending to leave at the earliest opportunity, to protect herself from heartbreak. And Thorin was no more inclined to speak out than she was. But he may need to. He may need to in order to dispel the awkwardness that was now threatening to infect their dealings with one another.

‘Thorin, I didn’t think I needed to say this again after you’d reached adulthood, but you’re as great a fool as I ever laid eyes on.’ He fixed the dwarf king with as stern a stare as he could muster. ‘Do you think this is a decision you can make without her? If you are willing to try, should you not leave her to decide what she wants?’

Thorin turned without another word, feeling that this was an argument he could not win. He valued Balin’s counsel on matters of politics and strategy, but he did not know anything about matters of the heart as far as he was aware. Balin had never married, and he had never given off any signs of wanting to. Balin had been content to live his life as an advisor and a warrior and if he did know anything about love at all, then Thorin could only wonder where he’d learned it. It was a mystery to him.

He needed to force this all from his mind anyway. His priority was to find a place to stay for the night. Near the riverside was a dangerous place to stay; it was exposed and if he remembered correctly, the water level could sometimes rise quickly, flooding the shores. Especially now that winter was fast approaching and rain was more likely to fall in heavy showers, it would never do to risk his men’s lives in such a manner. Instead he guided them to a more or less secluded place with a few bushes for cover. The bushes looked like they were about to become as dead as the land that surrounded it, but it was better than nothing. They offered some shelter and with there being no means to make a fire anywhere in the surroundings, they’d need it.

There was a cold dinner. Bombur muttered about it and clearly did not like it, but he kept it within reason. The mood was glum and subdued. Thorin blamed the presence of the Mountain looming so close by. He’d expected to love the sight of home once he saw it again, but instead he only felt the intense loneliness seeping through his skin. This was not the home he remembered and in a way it was a disappointment. Or maybe this was just his disappointment talking. He could not know.

Most of his men went to sleep right after dinner. Darkness had fallen some time ago and there was only moonlight to see by. They grouped together for warmth and when Thorin looked over to where the Ri family was camping, he located Kate sandwiched between Nori and Ori. Nori’s arm had fallen over Kate’s waist and the advisor used Ori’s shoulder as a pillow. Dori was sleeping in a sitting position, his head fallen onto his chest when he had drifted off. No doubt he had been looking over his siblings and had fallen asleep while he was still in the process of doing so.

Thorin would do that tonight for him. Things had become difficult with Dori lately, not too surprisingly, since he – rightfully – believed Thorin to be after his sister. He could not truly blame the other dwarf for it and could only hope that he had not yet learned about today’s events.

Everyone was asleep. Dwalin had volunteered for watch duty, but Thorin had ordered him to get some rest, a little too brusquely if he had read his friend’s expression right. But he needed to think, try to get a semblance of order back in his mind before he would march on Erebor in the morning. If he could not do this, he might as well turn back now and give up on his quest. A clear mind was what was needed and his had descended into chaos some hours ago, even if he had succeeded in keeping the leader mask in place. Mahal be praised for small mercies. He did not think his men had been able to see anything that they were not supposed to see. But the situation needed to be resolved before they would take on the dragon in earnest all the same.

The solution was simple: he needed to speak out. He would need to speak out and see where they would end. But that was not quite what he’d had in mind. If he was really honest, he would have to admit that that would be what he wanted most, but more a century of leading his people as king had taught him that life seldom gave him what he wanted and the thoughts of Kate were spoiled by the things that were thrown in their way: prejudice, taboo, duty. All the things that were standing between them could easily be summarised in those three words. Three words, but they were enough.

 _If you are willing to try, should you not leave her to decide what she wants?_ That was what Balin had advised him. Should he really be taking that advice? It was a risk, and his was not the only heart at stake. If, no when, he spoke out about what he felt, then Kate could still refuse him. Her answer would be the making of this quest, or its undoing. And when had that even happened? How had one human woman managed to influence the quest to retake his homeland so much? Was she even aware that she was doing it? Thorin rather doubted that.

 _I love Thorin. There, I’ve said it_. The words still echoed in his mind. He remembered deciding to talk to her before, when he had still been locked inside a barrel. Back then he had been stopped from acting on his decision by Kate’s altogether blunt words, but that was something that could not be done anymore.

 _Tomorrow_ , he promised himself. Remaining silent would not solve anything. _Tomorrow_. Come what may.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I can’t believe he heard me say that. And now my cover is well and truly blown. Good grief, what must he think of me? I’ll not be able to look him in the eyes again._

_This is just so horribly confusing. I’ve got home to think of, yet the thought of it keeps slipping my mind. Get a bloody grip on yourself, Andrews!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, we’re finally getting somewhere. I hope this was everything you wanted it to be. Next time: Thorin makes good on his intention to talk to Kate. Until then, please review? I really like to hear your opinion about this one.


	59. Homecoming

_Getting a grip on myself was however easier said than done. My abrupt confession had broken down a wall I was hardly even aware existed, unleashing a mass of feelings I had not allowed myself to feel before. It was a powerful maelstrom of emotions that I could hardly escape from. Even worse, I would be hard-pressed to identify most of them if someone would ask it of me._

_What was easily recognisable though was the confusion and a strange sort of despair that both seemed to pull me to Thorin whilst at the same time induced a urgent feeling of running in the opposite direction. It was a strange mess of thoughts about home, friends and family and, to my great surprise, not all of them were in the world where I was born anymore. Oh dears, my head was such a mess. I will not even try to describe it to you, because I would not honestly know where to begin. Chaos would be the word to use and it wasn’t a positive feeling._

_Quite frankly, it made me want to weep and scream in frustration. Of course that would not have solved anything, so I did the one thing I had just been accused of being able to do best: I ran. And I mean that physically and mentally, I’m afraid. I made a dash for my brothers and stuck with them the next two days as if I’d been glued to them. I am quite certain Dori found it strange; he kept throwing me looks, which then automatically strayed towards Thorin, telling me that he at least understood what kind of problem we were dealing with here. Fortunately for me he was too much of a gentleman to ask me about the specifics of the problem this time. As long as your father kept his distance, he was apparently fine with it. His intensive glares made absolutely sure of that, which was why I had sought refuge with my family in the first place._

_Nori simply could not care. We did not see him terribly much anyway. As we went on towards the Mountain he spent much of his time lecturing Bilbo on his burgling skills. He was after all the expert on the matter. Bilbo was hanging onto his every word. He seemed to have devoted himself to the task for reasons that were not yet known to me, but I wasn’t questioning it, and neither was Nori, who quite enjoyed having such a willing and eager pupil. In two days he started to like our burglar better than in months of travelling._

_Ori was a dear. He kept me distracted during that two day march towards the Mountain. My Khuzdul had been progressing well – or so he said. I didn’t quite believe him – so now we moved on to history. The subject had always interested me in my own world and it did not interest me any less in Middle Earth. I came to realise then that there was quite a lot about dwarvish history that Tolkien had never mentioned and I eagerly dove into it, because it was the distraction I was looking for._

_And a distraction was what I needed. I may have decided to ignore Thorin and to that end I had not only taken to hiding behind my brothers, but I had also firmly pressed a mental mute button on any thought to do with him, me and a relationship that was not strictly friendship. Ori’s history classes were just the thing I needed to help me make good on that intention. In short, I had devoted myself to perfecting the art of ignoring the elephant in the room and since your father was the embodiment of aforementioned elephant I avoided him like the plague, something he knew full well._

_Of course this situation could not last forever. Had we not addressed this matter, I’d imagine none of you would ever be born and I would have returned to my old home as soon as the quest was over and done with, as agreed. The ignoring lasted all of two days before things came to a head just as we had set up camp at the foot of the Mountain…_

 

His resolve to go and talk to Kate was easier said than done, Thorin reflected wryly two days later as he was overseeing the camp that was currently being made at the foot of the Mountain. It had been a difficult two days with trying to find a moment to get the woman on her own, but spending time around Nori had certainly paid off for her. She had grown sneaky and was always just out of reach, always within Dori’s line of very disapproving sight. If he had really wanted to, he’d have disregarded Dori’s protests and have talked to her either way, but it was clear that Kate herself didn’t want any contact. Thorin was unsure what to make of that, but he put it down to female behaviour. Mahal knew he could not even make sense of his own sister most of the time.

That didn’t mean Kate’s running didn’t hurt, because it did. And, Mahal help him, it hurt far worse than he could have imagined. She may love him – because there was not a chance that she could have been anything less than sincere in that outburst – but it was obvious that she did not value that love over the duty she had to return to her family. Her words at least served as an explanation for her behaviour of the past few weeks. The way Thorin saw it she did feel something and she felt it strongly – hence the outburst – but her family at home was far more important to her and therefore she shielded herself from heartbreak by keeping her distance. That tactic wasn’t new after all. She had done the exact same thing when the quest had only just begun. Truth was, Thorin was not even sure she should act any differently. Family should come first.

And he understood her duty better than anyone, having been hounded by it all his life. And for him too it might prove the entire reason why he could not and should not pursue anything more than friendship with Kate Andrews. He knew his history, knew that marriages between dwarves and men were rarer than the Arkenstone and he, as king, would be forced to observe the traditions of his people. Marrying a human woman from another world, of low birth, that was, to phrase it in Thranduil’s words, unheard of.

 _When Erebor is ours again, you’ll be hailed a hero, lad. You’ll have gained the right to make some controversial decisions._ That was what Balin had said and he’d have the right of it. And Thorin was not unfamiliar with the concept of taking controversial decisions. This entire quest had been dubbed a fool’s errand, and yet he had done it, with no regrets, for now they were closer to regaining what was rightfully theirs than they had been in a very long time. But even Thorin could tell the difference between a controversial decision and one that would surely cause unease and riots among his own people. That was the kind of decision he just could not make.

And so it should be better if they would just agree to acknowledge that there were feelings between them, but that nothing would and could ever come from it. Both of them were adults and would see the wisdom in such a course of action. But to reach this agreement, they needed to talk and that was something that may prove to be difficult.

At least he had some distraction ready at hand now. The trek to Erebor had been hard, cold and, as of this morning, wet as well. It had started out as a slight drizzle that almost unnoticed seeped through their clothes and into their boots and left the victims feeling cold and wet to the bone, making them believe they would never be truly warm again. Then had come the heavy, but fortunately brief, shower that had soaked everything that wasn’t soaked already. Many of his men were grumpy and out of sorts and the wish for a fire had been voiced by more than one of them. Thorin had, reluctantly, agreed. There was no sign of Smaug anywhere so far. In fact, he had been remarkably absent. But then, the monster had not been seen in sixty years. Had Thorin not known better, he would have believed that the drake had passed away. He had certainly been hoping so, but Kate’s book had the alarming tendency of having the right of things. He would not take the risk of doubting its information now.

But at least he was here now and he drew some strength and faith from that at least. Home, he was nearly home. Yet it did not feel like homecoming to him. The Mountain was still the same shape and the same size as he remembered, but that was where the similarities ended. What once had been a green and fair place was now a barren wasteland and Thorin’s heart mourned for what had been lost. The dragon had put his mark on his territory, had left it burned and ruined.

Visions appeared on his mind’s eye, memories of the day Erebor had been taken. He recalled the fire, the almost unbearable heat, the fear, the screams and he had to remind himself that getting lost in his memories would do nothing whatsoever in helping him to take back what Smaug had taken. Anger however would be of service to him and so would the longing for revenge. Those were useful emotions and he let the memories fuel them.

So many lives had been lost here, his mother’s among them. There was a memory he did not want to relive, but the moment the thought of her had appeared in his mind, there was no escaping it.

Thorin still blamed himself for not realising she had been missing any sooner. He himself had been too busy getting as many of his people out as he could. He had literally dragged his grandfather out of the front gate, believing that he had been the one in the worst danger, since he seemed unwilling to leave, a result of the gold lust that plagued his mind. He had handed Thrór to his own father to ensure that he got away. Thrór had been protesting feebly, but Thorin had not allowing himself to stay and listen to it, not when there was so much that needed doing.

His mind had been in chaos, filled with thoughts of both rage and despair. He had a fierce wish to rush back in to try and do what he could to slay the dragon before it could kill any more people, more than he’d already killed, but his duty to his people had to come first and Thorin knew that. It had been taught to him ever since he was a young lad. And with his grandfather not paying much attention to his duties and his father too preoccupied with getting Thrór out, that duty fell to Thorin.

And it was a heavy one, one he was afraid he would be too young to shoulder, but there simply was no time to dwell on such thoughts at the time and so he had run back, sword in hand, for whatever good it may do him. He had spotted Dís with a group of children, her eyes wide with fear. She was still trying to be the strong princess though, grown up before her time, a trait she seemed to share with both her sons, the older Thorin reflected.

He ran into Frerin when he was near the gate. His younger brother by five years had his hair singed a bit, suggesting he had come quite a bit closer to the firedrake than he should have been. But he appeared to be otherwise uninjured and his eyes were sparking with righteous rage instead of with mirth, as they usually did. It was a frightening change in his younger sibling, but Thorin did not allow himself to dwell on it.

‘How many are still inside?’ he had demanded.

Frerin shook his head. ‘I do not know,’ he replied. ‘Too many.’

He had not allowed himself to think of the dangers as he made his decision. ‘Then we will go back and see that as many as possible are evacuated.’

Frerin did not protest. Instead he followed Thorin without question, as he’d always done since the day he had learned to walk. But it was easier said than done, for they had been the only two even trying to go back. Panic had broken out among the people and they were running for their lives, some of them with only the clothes they wore, others clutching as many valuables as they had been able to grasp to their chests. Thorin found he despised them, to think of wealth when so many needed those arms to lean on.

Frerin had followed his gaze and spat on the ground. ‘They disgust me,’ he muttered under his breath. It was very unlike him to talk like that. Frerin had always been the happy one, the careless one. He’d had all the privileges of being a prince of Durin’s line, whilst having to bear none of the burdens that came with being the heir to the throne. Thorin sometimes envied him for that, but then he only regretted that his brother had needed to change so drastically in so short a time.

Thorin did not reply. There was nothing he could say that could make this any less horrible and he had a task to be done. They were getting ever closer to the main gate and he could already see his mother standing there, ushering people through it with a calm that was in contrast with the panic Thorin could see on so many other faces. Once again he admired her strength of mind and wished he had but a fraction of it. No matter how great the crisis, she always kept a clear head and balanced his father’s sometimes fiery temper. They were a good match and right now her calm composure was a gift from Mahal himself. Even though she must know there was a dragon lurking close by, she never wavered and even when the most horrible sounds were heard from within, she never left her place. He had to admire her for that.

‘How many are still in there?’ he asked as he joined her.

Her reply was the same as Frerin’s had been. ‘Too many, my son.’ She may sound as if she was in complete control, but Thorin was not easily fooled. He heard the concern and the helplessness he himself experienced.

‘I will try to find more men to help you,’ he promised, even when he doubted how many he would be able to find that would be brave enough to come back with him. Dwarves were not known for cowardice, but to go up against a dragon would be a fool’s errand, a suicide mission.

She merely nodded, not pointing out that his plan would never work. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Frerin, help Darin here.’ She pointed at a young warrior who was barely able to remain on his own two feet. There was blood trickling down his forehead and into his eyes. On his own he would never be able to make it out of the Mountain to safety. ‘Thorin, you take Frár out.’

Frár was one of his father’s guards, who had collapsed next to the gate, sporting bad burns and bleeding wounds. He had been in the thick of it and although Thorin did not say it, it was nothing short of a miracle that he was still drawing breath. The dwarf prince had always been fond of him.

‘Put your arm around my neck,’ he ordered, trying to haul the elderly guard to his feet. ‘Come, Frár, we can yet make it out.’ He was not entirely sure if his old friend was even entirely conscious, but he at least did what he was told with some help of Thorin. Otherwise he gave no sign of being aware of anything anymore. Thorin was forced to carry his entire weight as he stood up, a burden just as crushing as the weight of duty. He turned back to his mother. ‘I will be back as quick as I can.’

A few young children were clinging to her skirts as if their very lives depended on it, too frightened to go anywhere on their own, despite the danger lurking nearby, and Thorin made the mental promise to guide them to safety the moment he came back. The little ones were scared out of their depth, eyes wide and faces pale. Some were crying. ‘Will you?’ a boy asked with a tremor in his voice.

Thorin nodded, conjuring up the most reassuring smile he could manage under the given circumstances. ‘I will,’ he said. ‘I will be back before you know it.’

It was a promise he ended up breaking, but not for lack of trying. He was forcing Frár on as fast as he could, all but carrying him over the road, but it wasn’t fast enough. It was only half a minute after he had taken his leave of the small group at the gate that he heard it, the hurricane-like noise and the dragon’s furious roar.

He swivelled around and found his mother’s eyes, calm, but now with a hint of fear in them. Her arms were wrapped around the children near her. It was the last he ever saw of her. The next moment she disappeared in the dragon’s fire and when the flame at long last disappeared, there was no one there anymore. The desperate cry had escaped his lips unchecked and he could feel tears mingling with the sweat that was trickling down his face already. Maybe it was only then that it truly started to dawn on him what they had lost, only now that he had lost someone he held dear. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt before, but he had to force his grief back for the sake of his people and with the elves appearing on the horizon, he could at least begin to hope that they were not alone in their hour of need.

His hopes had vanished as soon as they had appeared when Thranduil turned his back on his allies and left the dwarves to fend for themselves. Frár had died from his wounds and from exhaustion before nightfall because they were unable to stop and did not have the means to see to his wounds.

The memories were demanding attention still, but Thorin fought them off. No, he could not allow himself to dwell on the past. The memories would not change what had happened and nor would they bring anyone back from the dead. The past was over and done with, even when it still influenced the present and the foreseeable future. But that was something he could change.

He let his hand rest against the bare rock, letting himself be soothed by the feel of it. He was home now and closer to making things right again than he had been ever since that day. But was he? Was he truly close to righting the wrongs, or was he still marching to his own doom, as the book predicted he was? There were so many things that could still go wrong and a failure to kill Smaug would just be the start of it. He was only too aware of the possibility of succumbing to the same affliction his grandfather had become a victim of. Maybe awareness of this fact would be of help to him already, but there were no certainties. It would be good to have the extra reassurance of Kate and the oath she had made in Beorn’s house. _I, Catherine Sarah Andrews, solemnly swear to do whatever it takes to prevent the gold lust from taking hold of Thorin Oakenshield. I’ll even tell him he’s a hairy idiot, a pig-headed buffoon or a right royal imbecile if need be._ Those were the words she had used, but they were a long way from that strange, but very natural feeling friendship now. Her oath was still true, that he knew, but everything else had changed. And they needed to resolve it. This situation had been dragging on for far too long. If he kept this up, he would have to admit that he was a coward. He may not be so in battle, but he was in matters such as these. And it was not something a king of Durin’s Folk could get away with.

He looked around the camp, expecting to see Kate with her brothers, only to find that she was nowhere to be seen. Dori was helping Bombur to prepare some food, Nori had sat Mr Baggins down for some more lessons and Ori was burying his nose in his journal. Kate was not with any of them and neither was she with anyone else, nor was she reading a book all by herself, as she loved to do on occasion.

It would be too easy to decide that apparently now would not be a good time to try and have that conversation, but Thorin knew himself. If he backed down now, it would only be harder when he eventually had to approach her. Besides, there was the quest to reckon with. From tomorrow on they would start to search for the door the map spoke of and there would be next to no time to sit down for a discussion then.

So he took a deep breath, he told himself there was no good excuse not to do this now and then marched over to Dori. If anyone would know where she was, it would be him. ‘Dori,’ he said.

The eldest Ri brother was on his knees, trying create a fire from the few twigs they had been able to find in this desolation. He looked up when he heard his name being called. ‘Thorin,’ he acknowledged. There was an instant wariness that told the dwarf king he knew exactly what would be asked of him and he did not like it one bit. Protective of his family indeed. ‘Is anything the matter?’

‘I would speak with your sister if you could tell me where she was,’ he said, trying and failing to make it sound as if he had every right to hear such information. The nerves effectively made him sound a whole lot less commanding and sure of himself as he usually was. ‘You may be a good king, brother, but it is a good thing this people don’t stand or fall with your social abilities, or I’d fear for our survival,’ Dís had said in reply to his words that he could not guarantee the safety of her sons on the quest. He may even have been a little too blunt about it, he would admit, and now he feared the same might apply to any situation relating to the company advisor.

Dori got up to his full length and he would have stared down at Thorin if he had been but an inch taller. ‘What is your business with her?’ he demanded.

Thorin gave himself a mental kick in the behind. He was not a child any longer and he was justified in asking what he did. ‘She is the advisor,’ he answered, taking care to leave the far too possessive sounding _my_ out of his words this time. He remembered well what Dori had thought when he had spoken like that in Mirkwood and he for one was not anxious to let him vent the anger Kate had prevented him from taking out on the king in that argument. _Because from where I was standing it reminded me a lot of Jacko warning off my boyfriend. Admittedly that was when I was fifteen and the guy did turn out to be a self-important bastard, but still, there are certain similarities_. Kate’s words still sounded in his mind and indeed he felt like a suitor being called to the carpet by his intended’s older relatives. How Kate would hate it if she ever heard of this. ‘I seek her advice.’

Dori clearly did not believe him. ‘Is that all you seek of her indeed?’ Thorin had the unpleasant feeling Kate’s brother had been bottling this up for a long time.

‘Walk with me,’ Thorin said. If he then was bound to have this discussion, then he would not have it in the middle of the camp where all could listen in.

Dori obeyed and followed his king to the outskirts of camp. ‘What is it you want with her?’ he demanded as soon as they had come to a halt, wasting no time on any social niceties. Dori was a dwarf with manners, but those manners were thrown overboard as soon as he spotted something that may pose a threat to those he cared about. How strange that he now should count a threat in the other dwarf’s mind. ‘Do not think I have not watched. I want to know what you did to her.’

‘Nothing,’ Thorin replied. It was no lie, for it had indeed not been him that had caused the awkwardness between them this time. Mahal knew that he may have started this all with the kiss in Thranduil’s dungeons, but it would never do to relate that to Dori. He might go berserk if he learned his little sister had been touched in such a way and that without a proper courtship. ‘There has been a misunderstanding, one that I now seek to rectify.’ That too was a truth. ‘Believe me when I say it was not my intention to cause her harm.’

If he had been hoping to calm Dori, he was disappointed. ‘Yet you did cause her harm. She asked me not to interfere, but I will not stand idly by when she is hurt.’

That would explain his reluctance in speaking out, but now Thorin was the one who had initiated the conversation, and Dori took that as his cue to address a few matters that had plagued his mind for quite some time now, if Thorin had interpreted the looks he was cast correctly.

‘I would not hurt her intentionally,’ Thorin said icily, a little vexed at the insinuation made by the other dwarf. ‘You may remember I took an oath to ensure her wellbeing some months ago. What is the matter now is merely the result of a misunderstanding between us. If you would tell me where your sister can be found, I will correct this immediately.’

Dori seemed to weigh his words. ‘I once asked you to do right by her,’ he said eventually. ‘And I will ask this of you again.’ He fixed his king with as stern a stare as he could muster. ‘Do not make me ask this a third time.’ He threat in the words was too obvious to miss and Thorin knew better than to disregard it. Dori meant it.

‘I will,’ he promised, silently wondering if ending whatever had grown between Kate and him would count as doing right by her in Dori’s book. Something told him it would not quite cut it.

He was rewarded for his promise with a nod. ‘She has gone up the slopes to those pines to look for firewood,’ Dori said curtly.

Thorin thanked him and Dori returned to camp. Thorin however took a deep breath and began to make his way up the Mountain.

 

***

 

Kate was glad of the solitude the searching of firewood provided her with. She loved her brothers dearly and she was grateful for the protection they, and Dori’s laser look in particular, offered from any confrontations with Thorin. And at night it helped to have them close. There had been no fires for the past two nights and everyone had grouped together for warmth. Sandwiched between Nori and Ori she had not gone cold and no one had thought anything of it. They were siblings after all and that made it perfectly respectable. And they provided Kate with a sense of home, of belonging, even out in this wilderness. It did not mean they agreed about everything and it did not mean they were always on the best of terms – Dori’s fussing had the tendency to become annoying very quickly and she was still not completely comfortable allowing Nori anywhere near her personal belongings – but they were family all the same and they stuck together.

Still, Kate was glad for the chance to have a bit of privacy. Her brothers were as good a shield against Thorin’s unwanted attempts to “talk about it” as any real shield, but after two days of being crowded by them, she was dying to have a few moments to herself, to think without being interrupted by a very well-meaning dwarf. So when she noticed that Thorin was thoroughly distracted, she volunteered to look for firewood underneath the pines a bit higher on the slopes. Dori didn’t like it, but Kate had pointed out that no living being dwelt here apart from the dragon in the Mountain and she really thought she could be relied upon to know when a dragon was coming for her without someone spelling it out to her. She left out the notion that if Smaug truly did leave his lair, none of them would stand any chance of survival. Dori might have freaked out. She had “escaped” before he could remember this little fact.

So, here she was, looking for firewood that might keep them warm tonight. And they would need the warmth. The cold had crept up on her, making her shiver from time to time. In this chill it was almost impossible to dry her clothes and a fire might just be a necessity of life, if they didn’t want to catch their deaths, that was. Well, it was the wind that made it truly cold, but underneath the trees the air was milder and as long as she kept moving, that kept the chill at bay as well.

Kate supposed she should be grateful for the fact that there even were trees around here still. Tolkien had been rather clear about the presence of trees this close to the Lonely Mountain: there weren’t any. And maybe she should think this suspicious, but Kate had seen so many small deviations from the book at this point in time, that she could not honestly bring herself to get worked up over details. The professor had not really been meaning to write a guide for a quest. It had been meant as a children’s book after all. And to Kate the presence of the trees strengthened the idea that Smaug had not been out a lot the past decades, or he would surely have burned this patch of forest to cinders long ago, like he had the rest of the environment. But the evidence of his long-term absence was starting to show. Already the earth looked less scorched and lifeless in places. Small plants were returning. It was a hopeful sign.

She wandered around, relishing the chance to be all alone for just a short while, but didn’t lose sight of her purpose. Bofur had been dispatched to another group of trees a little further off and the advisor was determined not to come back with anything less than what he would find. If they were lucky, they might find enough branches and twigs to make the fire burn throughout the night. That surely was a welcome thought.  

Her thoughts started to wander too now. Gathering firewood wasn’t a job that required much thinking after all. And she knew she would have to talk to Thorin sooner rather than later. This situation between them had gone on for long enough, but she could not even begin to think how she would face him. Things had already been changing after that kiss in Mirkwood, but at least then they had both still been able to pretend that this was not what it seemed and they had been able to go on as before, ignoring the elephant in the room, because that was just so much more convenient for both of them.

What had happened the day before yesterday was not so easy to misinterpret however. Kate had been trying to think of an explanation, but they all sounded feeble and downright untruthful to even her own ears. And Thorin was an intelligent man; he would see through her excuses before the last word would even have left her mouth. And it was not for lack of trying. Whenever she wasn’t distracted by her brothers, in the few hours between making camp and falling asleep, she had spent enough time thinking up excuses to last her a lifetime, but it would be no good.

 _I love Thorin. There, I’ve said it_. There were no ways around that, no ways she could make this seem like it had not been real. Kate had been contemplating telling Thorin that she had just said it to rid herself of Balin’s continued questioning about a relationship that Kate firmly believed would never happen. The tone of voice would suggest that she had spoken in anger – which she had – and that it had been a mere way to shut the dwarf up, by telling him what he wanted to hear without really meaning it. She still carried that in the back of her head as something she might actually say, because telling Thorin the truth was still not on her list of realistic options. To her frustration that list was still ridiculously short though, too short.

No, she could not tell him the truth. Thorin would have to say to her that her feelings were not mutual and Kate didn’t think she could bear the rejection and humiliation that would come with it. She did not believe their friendship would survive it, although that already seemed to lay in pieces on the ground. And it was not as if she could allow herself to act on her feelings, even if they by some miracle were not as one-sided as she thought. There was home to think of and Kate didn’t do brief affairs. It had to be for life and that was something that was impossible.

The best way to deal with this, she pondered, was to tell Thorin to ignore what had happened and to carry on as normal. _A downright shame I can never cast one of those memory charms right out of Harry Potter_ , she thought wryly. That surely would solve a few problems. Unfortunately Gandalf was the only one capable of doing any magic that she knew of, so she’d need to deal with this herself, and in a strictly non-magical way. Her stomach clenched with the nerves.

 _Are you an adult or not, Andrews? Will you please get a freaking grip on yourself for heaven’s sake!_ Common sense was right of course, but that did not make Kate dread the prospect of having to talk with Thorin any less. It didn’t change the fact that she had to though. She had made two oaths, one to stay with this quest and advise Thorin, one to stand guard over his mental health. Turning away and ignoring him was not an option. Besides, her first oath had also bound her to this quest. It was as much her quest now as it was the dwarves’ and that meant she had to make an effort. Running away didn’t count as making an effort. _Bugger the whole oath-exchanging thing._

She made a promise to herself to finish her job, take the wood down and sit Thorin down for a little chat after dinner, preferably where nobody could hear them. If they were going to make this mission a success, then she would have to grow up and face this. Good grief, even Thorin, not the most sociable person around, had been prepared to talk about it. Then surely she could not go on behaving like a three year old refusing to listen.

‘Kate!’

The advisor froze at the calling of her name from somewhere behind her. It was as if Thorin had read her thoughts and had come to find her. Maybe she should have known he would; he had been looking for opportunities to talk for two days and the only thing that had made him keep his distance was Dori’s withering laser look. Now that she was on her own, she should have known he was not going to waste the opportunity this provided him.

 _Act natural_ , she told herself. _You’re not some blushing teenage girl_. And she wasn’t. She had turned twenty-four this summer, even if she had completely forgotten about her birthday until it was already weeks in the past. Admittedly Mirkwood would not have been the ideal place to celebrate anything, so it was no big issue at all.

‘Can you please not do that?’ she said in an annoyed tone of voice, taking care not to turn around and show him just how taken by surprise she was. ‘You scared the crap out of me.’ It was an old one, but the tried and tested ones often worked the best.

Thorin sounded less than impressed. ‘Then you should be paying attention to your surroundings more.’ He tried to sound amused, but Kate could hear the same tension in his voice as there had been in hers. ‘You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.’ That was an old one too.

The way things were now, it would seem they were rapidly falling from one cliché straight into the next. _Thorin, Kate and a lot of clichés were standing on a mountainside…_ Well, not while she lived and breathed. ‘Because there are so many terrible beasts out here that would just love to rip an innocent maiden’s throat out?’ she inquired sarcastically. ‘Don’t worry, if Smaug comes flying, I’ll duck. He’ll be rather difficult to miss out on.’ Of course that was never going to save her should it come to that, but she wasn’t really too worried about that. The book had at least managed to reassure her on that account.

‘This land is not without dangers,’ Thorin insisted. His voice indicated that he had come closer, but Kate was not about to turn around to see it confirmed.

‘I have a sword,’ she pointed out. ‘And hadn’t we at some point agreed that you should not fuss about my wellbeing? To be quite honest, it does not suit you any better now than it did back then.’

She felt a hand grasp her left upper arm. ‘Give me some of your load.’ It sounded friendly enough, but Kate knew enough about dwarves to know that whenever a woman came into the picture they were practically incapable of containing their inner gentleman.

She snorted, opting on flippancy to respond with. ‘And give the impression that I’ve done nothing at all? No, I don’t think so. If you want some wood, gather your own.’ She knew she was deliberately misinterpreting the offer he made, but this was going to be hard enough without him being such a gentleman. Part of her was on the verge of feeling touched by his kind manners and she couldn’t let it, not if she wanted to walk out of here with at least some of her dignity intact.

Because good grief, was this eating away at her. Part of her wanted to run away as fast as she possibly could, another part wanted to kiss that annoying dwarf until her lips bled and yet another part of her yearned for the simplicity of the life she had known in her own world. No part of her wanted to have this conversation with him, though. She could not bear the thought of being humiliated in such a way. It was too painful.

Thorin however had other plans and not having a conversation was clearly not part of his agenda. ‘Kate, sit down.’ It was a command and not a request. Of course this was his way and she should have known he would not let her run when he finally got her on her own. He’d been meaning for them to talk ever since she had so foolishly blurted out what was in her heart.

‘I’d rather not,’ she told him, her back still turned on him. She bended over to collect another branch from the ground. ‘I’ve got to get this back to camp before all of us freeze.’ She threw in a chuckle for good measure, even though it sounded insincere to even her own ears. ‘I swear Bombur will kill me if he doesn’t get a hot supper tonight, don’t you agree?’ She added another twig to the collection. ‘Although heaven knows how we’ll get this to burn. It’s soaking wet, all of it.’ There had been no interruption so far and Kate reasoned that if she could keep filling the air with words – the more meaningless, the better – he couldn’t get a word of his own in. Just the way she liked it. ‘Besides, if I were to sit down, I think I’d freeze to death.’

The reply was silence and Kate hoped this meant he had either left – not very likely – or had simply decided not to pursue the matter any further – not very likely either. And it would soon turn out that he had indeed done neither of those things. Just when she got up right again, she felt a touch on her shoulders and then a sense of warmth as a cloak was draped around her.

The surprise made her swivel around before she had thought her actions through. ‘What…?’ The rest of the words died on her lips as she realised what had happened. Thorin had given her his own cloak to put an end to any protest about freezing, the sly bastard.

She forced herself to meet his eyes defiantly. ‘The wood still needs to be taken back to camp,’ she reminded him.

‘I met Bofur on my way here,’ Thorin countered. ‘He’ll be back in camp by now. They can spare you for a while longer.’

Bugger this dwarf for cutting off all her possibilities of escape. Short of running away there was not much that she could do. It did not stop her from trying though. ‘If I won’t be back soon, Dori will send out a search party.’ She gave him an apologetic smile to go with it. Could he not just back off, just a step or two? His close presence was starting to make her uncomfortable. ‘You know how he tends to fuss.’ The nerves – hang on, what nerves? – were making her _giggle_. Ugh, she could not make much more of a mess of things even if she tried.

‘Dori knows.’ There was disapproval in Thorin’s eyes. Ten to one that he knew exactly what she was doing and he was greatly annoyed by it. _Well, you know what you need to do then. Leave me bloody well alone._ ‘He gave me permission to talk to you.’

That took her by surprise. ‘Hang on, what?’ Dori had given permission? What had gotten into his head? Wasn’t he supposed to be her one true ally in this mess, the one she could rely on to keep her safe from exactly this kind of unwanted conversation? Had Thorin threatened him into giving up her location? She surely would not put it past the dwarf king.

Thorin used her surprise to sit her down on a log. The bundle of wood fell as she tried to grab his arms to remove them from her person, but it was a fight she was doomed to lose. Thorin was too strong. She may be faster, but he had more physical strength, which he was now using to stop her from using her advantage to get away from this place as fast as she possibly could.

‘You have been avoiding me.’ Thorin did not bother to explain himself, instead going in for the kill immediately, as was his way.

But if he was choosing to be blunt, so could she be. ‘I have not.’ It was a lie, of course it was a lie, but admitting to it would certainly mean that she would need to explain herself. And she was not in the mood to, despite her earlier determination to sort this mess out once and forever.

Thorin’s eyes did not often spark in anger – that was Kate’s prerogative – but they did now. ‘Yes, you have,’ he said forcefully.

‘Have not,’ she countered, a little too much aware of just how childish she sounded.

Thorin ignored it. It didn’t really matter anyway; they both knew Kate was being untruthful. Even a child could have noticed. ‘This has to do with what happened in Mirkwood.’ It was more of a conclusion than a question.

When had he become that observant? Thorin didn’t deal in emotional business as far as she was aware. ‘All right, so what if it has?’ she conceded, folding her arms tightly across her chest, as if that would protect her. If only. ‘And yes, I avoided you, a little, but that was only to stop things from becoming awkward again.’ _Please do not let him start about two days ago_. The atmosphere was awkward enough as it was. The part of her that wanted to run was rapidly getting the upper hand. It was also an impossibility, because the dwarf still had one hand around her left arm. Given the fact that she had her arms so close to her chest, that brought Thorin’s hand a little too close for comfort. Bloody dwarf. He certainly had no intention of letting go.

Kate pointedly kept her eyes on her boots, but the silence dragged on and so she looked up again, to see an expression she didn’t think she had ever seen on his face. Thorin Oakenshield, for want of a better word, looked completely, utterly flabbergasted. ‘Did you think it was all an act?’

 _What the hell was I supposed to think?_ And what was he trying to say here? Kate had the rather unpleasant feeling she was missing something here, but she couldn’t lay her finger on it. This made her even more uncomfortable than she already was. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ _Not for me, it wasn’t._ ‘You did what you had to do in order to keep us both alive. It would have been catastrophic if the elves had overheard what I was saying, I can see that. It’s perfectly all right.’ _Better stop talking before the talking turns to rambling, Andrews._ To her annoyance she realised she was sounding like Bilbo Baggins, when he was particularly flustered. This was definitely not a good sign. Kate had a suspicion that her attempt to sound nonchalant and uncaring had failed epically.

Thorin’s eyes had gained their icy quality again. It was familiar, but it didn’t reassure Kate at all. ‘So what you said two days ago, you did not mean that?’ He sounded both disbelieving and angry.

Kate had the choice between a lie and the truth. She was still considering the excuse, but found herself incapable of uttering it. She had condemned Thorin for lying in Lake-town, but if she would do the same thing now, that might be a case for Pot, Kettle and Black. And she found she could not do that. If she was going to be handling this as an adult, then she should be truthful. ‘I did mean it.’ Before she had even consciously made a decision, the words started to escape her mouth. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything should change. That’s just me being a silly girl and I’d beg of you to forget that you ever heard it.’ It wasn’t as strong and business-like as she would have liked, but it would have to do for now. As long as it made Thorin let go of this matter instead of holding onto it like a bloody bulldog hanging onto a bone, then it had been worth the trouble. Oh, if only she could make time turn back on itself so that she could undo the whole incident!

Thorin’s eyes flickered, and Kate didn’t think it was in amusement. ‘Do you truly think so little of me, Kate Andrews?’ he demanded. ‘Do you truly think I would lead you to believe that the act was real, only to disappoint you later?’

What the hell was he saying here? Part of Kate was starting to hope for something that should not be, but no matter her best attempts to forcefully squash it, it kept growing. ‘Not deliberately, no,’ she said. Because heaven knew it had been like that. But Thorin may be many things, but he was not someone who hurt intentionally, especially not those he considered friends. And he was in no way to blame for his advisor being incapable of keeping control of her own feelings. Not his fault at all.

If she had been meaning to pacify the dwarf, she had failed. ‘You truly think so little of me,’ he repeated, now as a conclusion more than a question.

 _Oh, bugger_. Kate could almost hear friendship being flung out of the window. ‘I am saying no such thing!’ she protested.

‘But you’re thinking it!’ Thorin shot back.

There was no denying that, so Kate chose the tried and tested way of attack as a best way of defence. ‘No, I don’t!’ she said forcefully, trying to shrug off his hand, in vain. ‘I think you spun Thranduil a good story, which was needed to help save our lives. There is nothing wrong, dishonourable or whatever the hell you want to call it with that, because it got us out. That’s all there is to it.’ She liked the sound of this better. Shouting had always served her well and today was no different. And maybe this would make him drop the matter.

But that was not likely. ‘You’re infuriating,’ he growled.

She was a little confused, but she’d die before she’d admit to such a thing. ‘Could you kindly tell me what on earth you are referring to?’

Thorin clearly seemed at a loss what to do or say and in normal situations Kate would have been rather alarmed to see the dwarf king so clearly out of his depth, but today it only added to her confusion. She wondered what was wrong with him and what he was trying to say, but her train of thought was called to an abrupt halt when the dwarf’s lips came into contact with hers.

Any anger and confusion she had felt just disappeared, vaporised, went missing without a trace. Instead the world finally started to make sense to the company advisor. This explained Thorin’s words earlier, his behaviour ever since Lake-town and Kate thought herself a right fool for not realising sooner that she was not the only one to have acted a certain disinterest in a relation that she still felt should not be possible.

Strangely enough such concerns had stopped to matter. The kiss was loving, tender and quite a lot of things she could not even begin to name. It burned all concerns of home not entirely from her mind, but it banished them far enough away for her to judge it irrelevant, at least for the time being. What was gone was any thought of trying to go on as they had before. She had been right to assume that ordinary friendship had been thrown out of the window. What she hadn’t noticed was that something stronger had sneaked in through the backdoor. She had been fighting it for so long, had been keeping the figurative backdoor barred for so long, that she could not even begin to wonder for how long exactly. All she knew was that it took that kiss to break down all the barriers she’d built. _Well done, Andrews. Trying to be the fanfiction heroine, are you?_

Common sense was remarkably quiet though. Because before now, Kate realised, she had been fighting her way upstream in the figurative strong current river. Now, she was letting go and she could hardly believe how liberating it felt. It made her smile.

Thorin had felt the movement and ended the kiss, to Kate’s annoyance, to look at her. ‘What is on your mind?’ Thorin Oakenshield, sounding vulnerable? Whatever next?

‘The uselessness of fighting,’ she replied.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I’m done for_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are. They finally got there. Of course, it won’t be smooth sailing from now on. And that brings me to my next point. I’m having a bit of a dilemma. I could go two ways with The Journal. One will lead the story to an ending shortly after BoFA, but the other will take quite a bit longer and have quite a bit more drama consequently. It could go both ways, but I’m not sure yet, so I’d like to get your opinion.  
> Anyway, I’m working on a longer version of Thorin’s flashback, which will probably a separate story once I’ve finished it, so I hope you liked the flashback.   
> Next time: the new couple have to adjust to the new situation and Thorin might need to explain himself to an older brother. Until then, please review? I’d love to hear what you thought about this one.


	60. Elephants

_What happened after? Well, I think I’ll keep that to myself. If you are already so shocked by the thought of your parents kissing, dear Duria, then I doubt you’ll want to know what transpired under those pines. I can remember all too well that this was the kind of thing I didn’t want to know about my own father and mother either._

_So, why did things escalate, if that is indeed the word to use, so quickly? That, my dears, would be a very good question and it is also one I do not know how to answer exactly. There could be many reasons, but I think that it was just a mixture. There was relief of having reached the Mountain in one piece – more or less – and having finally solved this tension between us. There was joy as well. I might even go as far as to say that I was high on it, as the people in my world tended to say. But there was also a fear of things that were still lying ahead, of a dragon that needed to be faced and a battle that might need to be fought. Both of us were rather aware that, if we were attempting to be in a relationship together, our time might be very limited. Both of us could be dead before the month was out for all we knew and we wanted to make the most of it._

_This did not mean that the problems that only a good few hours ago had seemed to be as high as the Mountain itself and just as easy to overcome, were gone now. There still was the matter of me being from another world. I still longed to go back, a longing that was just as fierce as my longing to never leave Middle Earth. And we were both faced with the problem of a taboo on marriage between two individuals from a different race. The company was hardly going to protest the notion, but it was quite certain that others would not look so kindly on our decision and I was well aware of it. As was Thorin._

_These concerns did not simply solve themselves as if by magic the moment true love’s kiss happened, because that would have made our story a fairy-tale. As far as I am aware, fairy-tales do not happen in real life. Besides, I don’t like to qualify myself as some kind of princess and Thorin as the Prince Charming. And I didn’t want things to be fairy-tale-like at all, because that might mean it was not real. What we had was._

_So, the problems were still there and we both were aware that they would need addressing in the near future, but at the time we could not really bring ourselves to spare them as much as a second thought, if we spared them a first at all, which we didn’t. We simply ignored the elephant in the room. We had, after all, become rather skilled at that. Besides, it would have ruined what we had then. Consequences, we both agreed – even if we never put that thought into words – were something for another day…_

 

By the time they made it back to camp it was dark. Kate wondered what the others would think and she fidgeted with her hair until the braid Thorin had put in it five minutes previous almost came undone again. The reactions of the rest of their companions had not seemed very important an hour ago, but to be honest, she had been rather preoccupied then. Now her mind was running wild. But she’d be damned before she let Thorin see any of that. He’d think she had doubts about this, about them, and she hadn’t. She had just not yet figured out what to do yet, which was quite another thing altogether. But it would have to wait for now.

Thorin, overcome by his inner gentleman, was carrying the wood she had been planning to bring back to camp. This had immediately resulted in her telling him exactly what she thought of this delicate-female treatment. Good grief, they weren’t living in the Dark Age anymore. Thorin had merely looked at her and had, quite unnecessarily pointed out that, like it or not, she was fragile, as he had seen for himself. Kate, trying and failing to suppress a violent blush from showing on her face, had then pointed out that she had survived orcs, elves and wargs, so a bit of firewood was unlikely to be the death of her. Thorin had merely shook his head. ‘Will we be arguing until the day Arda is remade?’ he had wondered, but the weariness in his voice was pretence, Kate knew, and neither was there any malice to be found in his words. Besides, he was clearly having trouble keeping that happy goofy grin off his face, so any attempt at stern behaviour was clearly undermined before he had even begun. It was a strange sight to behold, Kate found, but she liked it. It made him seem less burdened than usual. She had already seen this lighter side of him when they were bantering, and being in a relationship – Kate thought that was certainly a concept that would take some getting used to – brought it out again.

‘I suppose so,’ she heard herself say. ‘We wouldn’t be ourselves anymore if we didn’t find anything to argue over from time to time.’

To that he had cracked a smile, but he had still taken the bulk of the wood. He would have taken all of it, had she not been quicker and grabbed what little she could before he could get his hands on it. It was her way, she supposed, putting up some resistance for the sake of putting up resistance. It was what she did. She emphasised her point by adding a few more twigs to the collection as they made their way back. If Thorin thought he could treat her like a  porcelain doll from now on, he was very much mistaken indeed. She didn’t fancy that kind of treatment at all, as he should well know, and she was not about to let him treat her as if she were made of glass to satisfy his dwarvish protect-the-female-mode. There was already far more unorthodox about them. One more oddity could not hurt anyone, least of all the two of them.

It was strange that she had adapted so very quickly to the idea of them being a couple, a little too quickly perhaps. And there was something rather alarming about that. It was as if this had been meant to happen for a long time and the only thing stopping it from happening were the two of them fighting it with all the determination they had. Fat lot of good that fighting had done them, she observed wryly, and now they would soon have to deal with a lot of seemingly unsolvable issues they had previously been using as excuses for not acknowledging their true feelings. Good grief, what a mess.

Not tonight though. They had not really agreed to that, but they didn’t need to. There was no need to spoil this night with trying to solve issues that would have driven far more brilliant minds than theirs to despair. Another time. There was an elephant practically parading through the camp, but Kate pretended not to see it.

‘You are quiet,’ Thorin observed.

‘Usually you accuse me of chattering too much and now I’m too silent. Make up your mind.’ She nudged him playfully. ‘You’re quite the complainer, Mr Oakenshield. Sometimes there’s just no pleasing you.’

She was rewarded for her troubles with his trademark low chuckle. ‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Elephants,’ she replied.

Kate could almost hear the frown. ‘What about them?’ he demanded.

The advisor shrugged. ‘Just that we should ignore them for a little longer.’ She moved on to another subject before Thorin got the chance to pay far too much attention to the bloody beasts. ‘What do you think the others are going to say?’ She snorted. ‘I’m half expecting for Balin to get up and cheer so loudly the dragon wakes up.’

‘I am sure your brothers will have one or two things to tell me,’ Thorin grumbled from behind the wood.

Kate chuckled. ‘Dori and Nori? Oh yes, they won’t be very happy at all, I think, not with the way they’d been looking at you. Ori, though, I think he’ll approve. He’s loved the idea for a long time. Besides, you’re his hero. I don’t think there’s anything you do he could honestly disapprove of.’ And there was an understatement and no mistake. Ori was suffering from a severe case of hero-worship, Kate had noticed. He was a scribe and loved history more than any ordinary person did and Thorin admittedly had done some pretty heroic things, putting him on the same line as Durin the Deathless and his like. It was actually pretty adorable. Even though her brother still had decades on her, she sometimes felt like he was more of a younger brother than an older one. Dori and Nori already occupied that role and they did a very good job of it. They did too good a job of it probably.

Her remark distracted the dwarf. ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Why would he do that?’

Kate shot him a withering glance that he in the dark possibly could not see. ‘Are you an idiot or something and did I just never notice? You do remember you were hailed a hero after Azanulbizar? You led your people to a new home and made them prosper? Honestly, you do inspire people. Just make sure you don’t let that get to your head. It’s big enough as it is.’ Insulting him, joking with him had become easier now that they had finally solved the great problem. It was just like it had been when they had made the change from allies to friends. It felt like she had been fighting something that would come anyway and it was just better to stop fighting and go with it. It made their life so much easier if that was what they did. It had been her who had been a right fool for not realising that a little sooner. Now, when she had realised, bantering was as it had been, as it should be. In a way it defined them.

‘It is good to know that I will not find myself faced with all three of your brothers,’ Thorin remarked wryly.

Kate laughed, enjoying the feeling of it. ‘What about me?’ she wondered. ‘Should I worry about your family?’

‘My sister-sons will accept you with open arms,’ Thorin replied. ‘They like you. My sister?’ He paused, and Kate hoped it was just for the dramatic effect of it. When he was relaxed, Thorin was not above a little teasing and provoking of his own. ‘Dís is a lot like you,’ he said eventually. ‘You might get on very well.’

‘Or we’ll clash over everything,’ Kate finished. She realised that she was talking as if she was going to stay already, while that was not something that was yet decided. There was still the matter of her not belonging in this world. _Yes, and you might have thought about that before you decided to throw all caution to the wind, Andrews. It’s a little late for second thoughts, don’t you think?_ Why on earth did common sense to be so sensible all the time?

That didn’t mean that it wasn’t right, because it was. Whatever was now between her and Thorin Oakenshield positively ruled out any long-term separation and since he was unlikely to go to her world with her – he would not fit in there anyway, even if his duties would allow him to go there with her – she would have to stay. And that was at odds with the need to go home. _Oh, bugger_.

But she had promised herself she would not concern herself with matters such as these today and she would stand by that. And she had distraction near at hand, because they were close to camp. Time to face the music. On the other hand though, people had been suspecting that they were together for a long time now and they did not behave all that differently now. She didn’t really believe they would turn heads. She at least hoped they wouldn’t, even though Dori was likely to know. And if he didn’t, he’d find out soon enough.

‘That took you long enough,’ Kíli commented as they added their firewood to the stack.

‘The next time, you can be the one to go,’ Kate shot back. ‘Instead of sitting on your bum and letting the woman do the work.’

‘You volunteered,’ was the reply to that, one Kate found rather difficult to deny.

‘And you weren’t likely to,’ she retorted. ‘Is there any supper left at all?’

Bombur passed her a bowl. ‘A little,’ he told her. ‘Eat up, lass, you’re skinny enough as it is.’

‘Everyone is skinny when they’re standing next to you,’ she felt obliged to point out. She had missed out on quite a lot while she was hiding behind her brothers. She had missed out on the life in camp, which she found she liked, at least when everyone was following her proud example of leaving the serious matters till morning. For now, they were celebrating that they had reached the Mountain and the dragon was, at least this night, something they would worry over come morning. She had been shutting herself out of this and she had been a fool for doing it.

Tolkien had said that the company was in doom and gloom moods when they reached the Mountain, but obviously he had been wrong. Yes, the dwarves who had been here when Erebor first fell kept casting wistful glances at their home, but most of them were just celebrating that they had made it this far. And Kate went with it, forcing herself to temporarily forget that the greatest trial was still ahead of them. That was something to worry about in the morning, after all. And so she joined in with songs, let herself be persuaded to read a chapter or two and listened to tales the others told in turn.

Thorin didn’t say much. He was just there, on her left side. Fíli and Kíli persuaded him to sing with them for a while, but mostly he was observing, but enjoying. And honestly, not too much had changed between them at all, Kate observed. He didn’t take her hand, or put an arm around her waist, or do anything a lover might do. It would not have been like him. And it would not have been like her either. It wasn’t who they were at all. She would have felt uncomfortable at those obvious signs of affection, especially in front of others. What they had was different, a quiet agreement, laced with the occasional shouting. In fact it was like their friendship had been, except that this was something that went quite a lot deeper than the friendship they’d had before. And she liked it that way. Maybe she was just not much of a romantic, but she found she could not care less. And if others thought it strange, well, since when had she particularly cared about the opinion of others?

It was the same when Thorin finally ordered that they should go to bed, because they had a long day ahead of them. He went off in search of a good spot while Kate helped Bombur and Bofur to clean up the worst of the mess. Then she looked around her. It was obvious that her brothers were expecting her to come back to them and it was tempting to do so, tempting to keep it a secret for a while longer. For all she knew, her friends were not even yet aware of the changed circumstances and keeping quiet might keep her safe from their comments for a little longer. Goodness knew it had taken them a fight with orcs and an encounter with elves to shut them up last time. She wouldn’t be doing a happy dance around the Mountain if that gossip started anew, as it was bound to do as soon as the news came out.

 _Don’t be such a rotten coward, Andrews_ , she reprimanded herself. She had decided she was done running away. Now would be the time to stick with that decision. That was something the old Kate would have done anyway. So she picked up her stuff and marched over to the spot Thorin had chosen, all too aware of the many eyes that were looking at her as if they had just witnessed an orc dancing a waltz or something equally absurd. She heard the whispers too. And they annoyed her, because it meant that the whole bloody rumour mill would be up and running by the time morning came around. Oh dear, if there was anything she wasn’t looking forward to, it would be that.

‘The tongues have found something to keep them occupied again,’ she observed wryly as she laid down her belongings on the ground.

Thorin was in the process of removing his boots, but he looked up when she spoke. ‘Had you expected any different?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t hope. Honestly, this interest in my private life is a little disturbing, if you must know.’ She undid the braid in her hair and made another for the night. Thanks to those unruly curls – the Andrews curse, as Jacko used to call it and he’d be right about it too – her hair never stayed as she wanted it to for longer than an hour. After that it took on a life of its own, and by the time it was night very little in fact remained tucked in the braid she had made in the morning. Thorin’s way of plaiting it made sure it stayed as it should for a little longer though.

It was as if he had read her thoughts. ‘Let me do that.’

She turned obligingly. ‘Go right ahead. You seem to be doing a better job of it than I ever could. Not that that’s hard to better.’ Kate was well aware that they were being watched, but she ignored it. They were talking already. Letting Thorin fix her hair would only confirm what most of them were already thinking anyway. She might as well do it thoroughly. She may have to pretend deafness the next day though, unless she was eager to be showered in clever commentary she had no ambition to hear.

The low chuckle that was the response to that told her the quip was well-received and Kate was glad of it. The tension between them had dissolved, at least as long as they didn’t look at the elephant, which she at least was determined not to do till sunrise. Because when they would address the matter, it was all too clear that there was only one real possibility for them: she would stay. And Kate was not yet sure if she could do that. Could she leave home, leave her loved ones and give it all up to live in another world, of which she didn’t know the customs, in which she might not face an easy future if all that Balin told her had been true? Could she really give up the life she had at home, her family? It seemed like a horribly big sacrifice to make. _Whoever thought that true love conquers everything should be executed this very instant for lying so shamelessly._

She growled in frustration as she realised that despite her good intention not to let these matters spoil things so soon, she still had admitted them into her head, sowing doubt as they went. She kicked them out. The last thing she needed was to doubt now. She had made her choice when she had kissed Thorin back, maybe even the first time she had kissed him back already, in Mirkwood. They weren’t married yet, but the advisor suspected that was only a matter of time. And if the cost would not be so bloody high for her to pay, then she would not object to such a thing in the slightest. She wanted this. Heaven help her, but she wanted this. And it was only after Balin had made her speak out that she had realised that this was what she wanted. But there would still be a price to pay and it tainted her newfound happiness.

But she could not abandon Thorin either. It was true, she had made a choice and she had the habit of sticking with them. As much as she wanted to leave, she also wanted to stay. The very thing she had dreaded when she had come to Middle Earth had happened; she had formed permanent and very strong attachments to the people in this world and now she was torn in half over it.

But as much as she wanted to make herself believe that there was a choice, there really wasn’t one. She had shown herself as much as the dwarf what that choice was when she chose this. And then there was the whole loyalty thing coming into play. She honestly didn’t think Thorin could handle another betrayal, because that was how he would see it if she ever got it into her head to leave. And quite frankly, he’d had enough of that. But it did not mean that there suddenly was a way to deal with it all in a simple and satisfactory manner. Easy answers were, as she had said to Thorin in the boat, not readily available.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Thorin’s voice asked.

Since he was done tying up the braid, she turned around to favour him with a roll of the eyes, which he could possibly only just make out by the very little light the moon cast on them. ‘Stop stealing my lines,’ she told him sternly. ‘And I thought you weren’t a social worker.’

Thorin merely favoured her with a stern glance that told her she wouldn’t get out of this so easily. ‘Kate…’

She lay down to signal that she wanted to go to sleep, as per Thorin’s own orders. ‘I’m just thinking about things I really should not be thinking about right now.’ Some part of her told her that she should have her head in the clouds now and she was not supposed to come back on earth for the next couple of days. Oh, she’d had her head in the clouds, all right, but it hadn’t lasted as long as she would have liked at all and now she was already stewing over things that ought to have been left till the morning. And it frustrated her that she simply was unable to feel happy, as she wanted to be, without other emotions sneaking in and spoiling most of it for her. ‘I’m just being silly,’ she told Thorin. ‘And I’m tired.’ She caught his hurt expression and realised too late that her words could be interpreted as her trying to shut him out, as she had accused him of doing not all that long ago. _Bugger_. ‘I’m not trying to shut you out,’ she clarified. ‘I just don’t think I should be thinking of home today of all days. It’s not right somehow.’ To her embarrassment her voice broke and a tear escaped. It trickled down her cheek and Kate cursed her own weakness. Yes, this was really going to convince him that she was just fine.

To her surprise however Thorin lay down too and drew her against his chest, earning him a yelp of protest because she had not seen that coming. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘They’ll see!’

The dwarf king seemed singularly unimpressed by that. ‘They know.’

She supposed he had a point, but it did not make her feel very comfortable yet. ‘I guess.’ She still sounded as if she was crying and she didn’t like that one bit. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she had second thoughts about the two of them, because she hadn’t. ‘I’ll be fine, though, _really_. I’m just being absurd.’

To her surprise this earned her another chuckle.

Kate propped herself up on an elbow so that she could glare at him, sadness temporarily forgotten. ‘Are you bloody well laughing at me?’ she growled. ‘Because if you are, then so help me God…’

‘Kate.’ Thorin sounded a little exasperated now. ‘I spent most of my life longing for home,’ he reminded her. ‘I understand.’

Oh. Shit. She had completely forgotten about that, too caught up in her own little world with her own problems to remember that if anyone should know what it felt like to be homeless, it would be Thorin Oakenshield. The company advisor suddenly felt rather stupid and selfish for losing sight of the bigger picture here. She had behaved like a spoiled little girl and she was no longer a girl. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. She felt exhausted, even though it was not very late and she’d had a good night’s sleep the night before. Emotions were tiring things in more than one way. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I’m just…’

Thorin didn’t give her the time to finish that sentence. He just pulled her down, against his chest again. ‘Sleep, Kate,’ he told her. She didn’t think she could have defied his order if she wanted to, and so she drifted off to sleep as he hummed a tune that sounded awfully familiar for some reason.

 

***

 

It was still dark when Thorin woke again, even when he could not say what exactly had roused him from his slumber. The morning could not be far off anymore though. On the eastern horizon the darkness was a little less dark already. That didn’t mean any of the others were already awake. The camp was silent and save for Bofur, who was keeping watch in the company of his pipe, everyone was asleep still. And something told him he should do the same and take some rest while he could. Last evening by the fire had been a stolen moment of contentment and happiness, existing almost outside of time itself. But he had still a quest to complete and he would need to focus on that the moment the sun crept over the horizon.

Kate was still sleeping too. She had curled up against him, head buried against his chest, so that the only thing he could see of her head right now was the mass of red curls, most of which had escaped the braid he’d made sometime during the night. It reminded him a bit of the few nights they had slept in this manner before. The one thing that was missing now though was the rather unwelcome third companion of mountain-high awkwardness that had always been trying to sleep between them. He hoped to the Maker that those days were in the past now and would remain there. He’d had enough awkwardness to last him a lifetime.

Still, it was strange how fast it had all gone in the end. They had spent months quarrelling, arguing, fighting and denying the what appeared to be inevitable. All it took in the end was a shouted confession on Kate’s part and one conversation to clear the air. Something seemed off about that, as if this was not the way things were meant to be. Relationships were meant to go slowly. Courting could take years, never mind that they would go as far as the pair of them had gone on such short notice. It was probably for the best that Dori did not know.

But then, most of Thorin’s race began courting with the idea in mind that they had all the time in the world. Thorin and Kate did not have such a luxury position. They could be dead before the month was out. They went up against a dragon and even if they both made it through that ordeal in one piece, there was still a battle to be reckoned with. Thorin was not afraid of battle, was not afraid of dying either. He had faced it more than enough. Dying for his people was a noble thing to be doing and he would gladly give his life if that meant that they would once again have a home to go to. He now just found that he would regret it if he died, for both his sake and Kate’s.

But even if they both made it through all of that, there was still not too much time for courtship. Thorin was well aware that he was not the youngest dwarf to walk this earth and Kate did not have unlimited time either. Yes, she was young, but the race of Men aged quickly. The dwarf remembered all too well that he had once worked together with a young human smith in some village or other. He’d liked the man, but did not have much opportunity to come by in the following decades. When he did visit that village again, he found that the smith was no longer young, but a fragile old man with children and grandchildren. He had known before that this was the way of the world, but it came as a shock nonetheless.

And now he’d cast aside all traditions and customs of his kind to get into a relationship with a woman of that race. Ageing might not be such a problem for them. The fact that Thorin was no young dwarf anymore meant that they would die around the same time if he didn’t fall in battle first. But there were other issues, issues that were not as easily dismissed as he would have liked. Because what they did had never been done before and then he was not even looking at Kate’s unusual background. His own people, the ones that had followed him over the world to the Ered Luin, that had faced hardship and sorrow with him, they might not understand why he acted as he did, but they would accept his choice, because he was their leader and they had faith in him. But the nobles from the Iron Hills, the ones that had fled when difficult times loomed ahead, those would be hanging on to their beloved traditions and they, like most dwarves, had no love for outsiders. They would resent Thorin’s choice, would give Kate a difficult time. The path he had chosen was not an easy one, but, so he believed, one that would be worth it to walk, for he was tired of fighting it.

He moved a little and Kate stirred. ‘Morning already?’ she muttered, hardly coherent, voice slurring with sleep.

‘It is night still,’ he reassured her. ‘Sleep.’ She’d have to wake soon enough.

‘If you say so.’ Her breathing told Thorin she’d drifted off almost immediately again. He could not begrudge her what little rest she might be able to get. Because Kate would have problems of her own to face and she would have to face them sooner rather than later. If she were to stay here, then she would have to leave everything behind and Thorin felt rather selfish for assuming that this was the way things had to go. But he didn’t think there would be much choice anyway. He could never leave his people behind, it was not done, which meant that the advisor would stay here with him if they were to make this work. And that was something Thorin did feel very strongly about. It had to be for life. If not, then why bother at all?

His ponderings took up most of the time it took for the sun to come over the horizon. Kate still slept. She had given the impression of being exhausted earlier, but Thorin had not realised how much she had been. The advisor was usually up at the first light, no matter how much she hated that. Well, maybe it did help that his chest blocked out most of it.

The rest of the camp began to wake up. The Ri brothers were up. Nori shook his head in Thorin’s direction, but Ori didn’t spare him so much as a glance. He already was studying some book or other. From the distance he could not be sure, but Thorin thought the book in question looked a lot like that Narnia book of Kate’s. Yes, Ori would like those tales and he was also the only one who didn’t want Thorin’s head for taking up with his sister. If he was to make this work, it would take effort, and quite a lot of it. The Ri brothers weren’t going to be happy with him, protective Dori least of all. And if Dori knew what exactly had happened between them, he might be even less happy than he was already bound to be. That was a confrontation Thorin did not look forward to.

Yet Kate’s eldest brother seemed determined to have it now, if his determined steps were any indication. To be honest, Thorin was surprised he had waited this long before he sought him out. He’d have expected a lecture the moment they returned to camp. Their absence had been rather lengthy, so the dwarf must at least suspect something had not quite gone according to the rules of propriety. And he was bound not to like that.

Hiding behind Kate was not really an option, no matter how much he may want it. It was the coward’s way and so he let go of the woman, made sure she was lying comfortable and got up. Kate groaned in protest and buried her head underneath the blanket, leaving only a few locks of red hair to come out above it. She didn’t stir any further, so Thorin assumed she’d gone back to sleep, as would be best.

‘Not here,’ he told Dori when the other dwarf reached him.

He was rewarded with a curt nod. ‘Very well.’

Thorin led the way to an abandoned spot outside camp. From where he stood he could still see his men, but they were at least out of earshot and that was what he wanted. This was bound not to be pretty, especially when Dori suspected the full extent of what had transpired, and he was bound to take it as personal insult, or taking advantage of an innocent girl.

‘I am aware I have not acted according to the rules of propriety,’ he conceded before he could find himself on the receiving end of a lecture. It was a trick of Kate’s: cut him off before he’s warmed up, else there was no stopping him. The tried and tested way, she had said. ‘But I intend to do right by her.’

‘As per my instructions.’ Dori did not seem impressed. Thorin may be his king, but when family was concerned, he did not care who he was talking to. His family mattered, and very little else did. The dwarf king wondered whether Kate had been aware of what a powerful ally she’d made when she had pushed Ori out of the warg’s way that day. He rather doubted it. She’d hardly known Dori then and the book did not give her much to go on, rather than that he was a decent fellow. Thorin however thought this assessment of Dori’s character was in need of a small correction: Dori was a decent fellow, as long as you didn’t touch his family, or, worse, sleep with his sister. ‘But if you call this the right way, then we have sunk lower than I believed we had.’

Thorin clenched his fists and forced himself to remain calm. He’d had to hear that insult from too many people already, Thranduil and Dáin being among them. Naturally, Dáin had at least tried to be subtle about it by pointing out that their ways had changed and that he may have forgotten some of the ways of their ancestors, as was only natural in exile of course. It was insult all the same, but he had never expected to hear it from Dori’s mouth. ‘I am aware that I did not come to you to inform you expressively of my intentions,’ he replied. ‘I believed you to be aware of them.’ He had been aware of them before Thorin even realised that he felt this way about his advisor.

‘This is not what I meant,’ Dori said sternly.

And Thorin Oakenshield, who had seen battle and had led a people in their exile, through hunger, poverty and sorrow, felt himself like a little boy called to answer for his mischief before his father. ‘I believe you told me she asked you not to interfere,’ he said icily. Dori certainly knew what they had done. And in hindsight it had not been the smartest thing that they could have done, but he did not regret it. With both their fates uncertain, it may have been the only time. But he pushed that dark thought back. This was not something he would discuss with Kate’s fussing brother. He’d rather die than that he discussed that subject with Dori. ‘I would ask the same of you. Kate is an independent woman, who makes her own choices. I do not believe that she would want you to dictate her life for her.’ _The way you do Ori’s_. That too had to stay inside his head.

Dori looked like he would cheerfully repeat the Galas-treatment on his king. ‘I did not intend to,’ he said, equally icily. ‘But she is my sister, even though she was not born from the same mother as I am. It is my duty to protect her, so at least tell me this: do you intend to marry her?’

This was one topic he at least didn’t have to evade in any way. ‘As soon as Erebor is retaken.’ Kate was probably going to bite his head off for not discussing this with her first, but this, he reasoned, was self-preservation. He could do well in battle, but Dori was more than a match for him and he was armed, even if only with his own fists. That gave him an advantage over Thorin. Unfortunately for him, he could not command respect with just his fists. Although he could find his way around axes and swords, he had never quite reached that level of perfection with his fists. And Dori would use his if need be. Besides, he had spoken the truth: he did intend to marry Kate Andrews as soon as he could and he thought she knew it too, because otherwise she would not have given herself in such a way. And there was not any answer he could have given either way, not if he valued his head on his shoulders, instead of getting it knocked clean off.

Dori nodded. ‘I do not like it,’ he announced. ‘But my sister cares for you.’ _Although you clearly do not see why_. Oh, Dori may follow him because he was the king and he believed in what they were doing, but his appreciation for Thorin as a person seemed to be practically non-existent. ‘She asked of me not to interfere and I will not, but I swear before Mahal that if you ever hurt her, Thorin Oakenshield, you will answer to me.’

It was as it should be. Thorin remembered making a similar speech to his own sister’s husband before they were married. Dís had almost literally bitten his head off for frightening her betrothed like that, but it was just a necessity to the dwarf king, to ensure her happiness. He was sure that was what Dori had on his mind as well. He just found he didn’t enjoy the receiving end in this case.

‘I expect no less,’ he said. But it would never come to that. Yes, Kate and he would argue about meaningless matters until the sun turned cold, but that was a part of who they were and a part Dori had never understood about them. It was not malicious, not meant to hurt, not since the very beginning of the quest, when they had done precious little else except arguing until they ran out of breath and words.

Dori favoured him with a scrutinising glance. ‘I do wonder if you know what you are doing, what kind of life you are subjecting her to. You do realise that our people may not take to her as readily as we have done?’

 _You only acknowledged her after she showed bravery during our ordeal with the trolls and after she saved your little brother from certain death_. _You are not in a position to lecture me on that._ Very few members of the company had immediately liked the advisor and Dori had not been one of them. Thorin had not been one of that group either, but things could obviously change. He however chose not to speak of that yet. ‘You made that decision for her when you adopted her as your own sister,’ he pointed out, trying to convey his feelings with just his facial expression. ‘Did you make that consideration then?’

‘I will defend my actions if need be,’ Kate’s eldest brother said. ‘Will you? Will you protect her from those who would see your marriage to her undone?’

‘You think me faithless then, that I would act in such a manner?’ Thorin felt his temper rise quickly. He’d had two conversations with Dori now about this subject and although he knew that this third conversation was a necessity, it did not mean he had to like it. And the suggestion that he would abandon Kate as soon as he was confronted with some negative reactions from his own people would have been laughable if it hadn’t made him so angry first and foremost.

‘Not faithless,’ Dori said, unwavering in the face of Thorin’s imminent anger. ‘But you do have a duty to our people. Some would see it as your duty to marry a highborn lady of our own folk to produce heirs with. They may claim that there is no certainty Kate will be able to bear you sons.’

That had been the very last thing on his mind. Now that he thought of it, though, he realised that those people might have the right of it. There was no certainty if a human woman and a dwarf could have children, but it mattered not either way. ‘My sister-sons are my heirs,’ he pointed out. ‘I do not have a need to marry solely for the cause of having children.’

It didn’t mean that he didn’t want them. He’d love to have a child of his own. The idea had started to grow ever since that nightmare in Esgaroth. A boy it would be most likely, what with males making up two thirds of the dwarven population, with his mother’s eyes and Thorin’s own dark hair, although he might have Kate’s curls. If they were truly blessed, there might even be a girl, with her mother’s fiery hair and her smile. But that was not guaranteed and so he forced those thoughts from his head. If he had learned one thing from his exile, then it was that mere hopes and dreams did not get anyone anywhere and nor would it put food on the table. It was a harsh truth, but a truth all the same.

‘So you will remain true to her?’ Dori was rather a suspicious soul, but Thorin could not really fault him for it. An annoying as it was to be questioned in such a manner, he had been guilty of doing the exact same thing once, which had driven Dís almost to despair.

‘I will,’ he vowed. And he would stand by that decision. He had asked loyalty from those he had asked to accompany him on his quest and he would be a bad king indeed if he was not loyal himself.

‘Then we understand each other,’ Dori said. ‘Welcome to the family.’ He didn’t make Thorin feel very welcome though as he turned around and walked back to camp. But it was done now and that was what counted for the moment. The rest would come later.

In the meantime he had an advisor and future bride to find and he returned to the camp, to find Kate already up, packing her belongings in her rucksack. Thorin took a moment to study her. He still didn’t think her very pretty and she was possibly skinnier than was healthy, even for a woman of her race because of the meagre rations, or so he imagined anyway, but Kate’s beauty was not in any dwarvish way. It was in that mocking smile and that twinkle in her eyes and in that mass of curls she called hair. Had people told him he would feel this way about one of the race of Men a year ago, he’d have called them out for fools. Now, he would have called them unorthodox, but not wrong, although Mahal only knew what his own people would say when they inevitably found out about this.

‘You know that staring is considered to be rude?’ Kate called without looking at him.

‘You are my future wife,’ he reminded her. ‘I am allowed to stare.’

It gained him a dismissive ‘hmpf.’

‘How did you know I was there?’ he questioned as he walked over to join her.

Kate smirked. ‘Three things you need to know about dwarves: they’re hairy, they’re no vegetarians and their idea of moving quietly still means it sounds like there’s a herd of angry elephants approaching.’ It was their kind of banter again, insulting as well as just good fun. Even after a few months it was still new to him. He had not laughed much in the past decades. In fact, Dís had once said: ‘Your smiles, brother, are rarer than the Arkenstone these days.’ He feared that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but not very much.

‘Truly?’ he inquired mockingly.

‘I daresay you have more hair than I do,’ Kate pointed out. ‘What were you and Dori doing over there anyway, hiding away like schoolboys up to mischief? Was he worried about my honour again?’

This assessment of the situation was of course correct. ‘It is of no importance to you,’ he said dismissively, hoping she would leave it at that.

Kate snorted. ‘Thought so.’ She got to her feet and swung her rucksack on her back. ‘Well, if you’re quite done, we may go to get some breakfast.’

‘As you can see, I am not done,’ he said.

His future wife shrugged. ‘Your fault,’ she shrugged. ‘You shouldn’t have wasted your time talking about my honour then.’ There was annoyance there, but it could have been worse. Ten to one she would save the real rant for her own brother. ‘I’ll save you some breakfast before Bombur eats it all.’ She winked before she made her way to the centre of the camp.

Thorin stared after her. Unconventional was what defined their relationship, yet he found himself liking the prospect more with each passing second.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _You wouldn’t believe how bloody embarrassing this whole protective brother thing is becoming. What on earth was Dori thinking?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank you all for answering the question I asked last time. As requested, I’m going to take the long road with this. I preferred to do it that way anyway, but it does mean this story will get quite a bit longer, which you apparently don’t mind. And as long as you don’t mind, I’m just very happy to write it. So, be prepared. There’s a long and bumpy road still ahead.  
> Next time: Kate insults the in-laws, Thorin has doubts about the quest and Bilbo is complicating things only further. Until then, please review?


	61. Confessions

_Breakfast was a tense affair. The easy atmosphere from before had vanished completely now that we needed to get back to business, because Durin’s Day was fast approaching and we could all feel it in the chilly air and long nights. We had less light every day, we had noticed already, and searching for the door was a task that needed light, because how is one to search for a door that is practically invisible even in the best of light?_

_Balin asked about the book, but that was not much help either. I had been rather hopeful before, because we could at least rule out three sides of the Mountain as the place where we were supposed to enter. We needed to be on the west side of the Mountain and that, I foolishly believed, would be easy. Furthermore we needed to be standing on some sort of ledge, according to the book, which narrowed things down only more. That was what I thought before I actually laid eyes on the Lonely Mountain._

_Not all the books and movies in the world could have prepared me for that sight, let me tell you. It was so much bigger than I had been led to believe. ‘Of course,’ would you lot say. ‘Of course it is big. It’s an entire kingdom, so what do you expect?’ And you would be right of course. Erebor is certainly big enough to wander around in for days and never see the same place twice. It is definitely big enough to get lost in, as Thoren and Thráin demonstrated years ago and we couldn’t find you for nigh on one week._

_At that moment though the size of the Lonely Mountain started only just to make an impact on me and it was quite obvious that there was a lot of west side to this Mountain, even if we did know that we would have to search pretty high up and somewhat on the south side. Still, that left a lot of mountain slope to cover and it would take time, even if we walked straight at the spot we needed._

_Fortunately we had time. We had escaped Mirkwood around the same time as the book would have us believe, but we had only stayed in Esgaroth for one week instead of two, which gave us an extra week to search for the entrance and that was certainly good news. We’d had far too little of that for quite some time, so now that we deserved some, I reckoned. And it gave us all a bit of breathing space._

_And that was sorely needed too. Most of my companions had never actually laid eyes on Erebor, so, like me, they’d had no idea how big a mountain they would be dealing with. And the size of it, combined with the altogether dreary desolation that surrounded us, was disheartening. As you know, dwarves are not the types to throw in the towel and admit defeat before they have even begun, but I don’t think I was the only one who silently questioned the possibility of success._

_Balin was a dear though and, we all agreed, Mahal’s gift to the world. It was his idea to remain at camp for one day longer so that we could make a plan for how to search. Thorin had taken not only the map with the moon runes with him, but also some other, more detailed maps of Erebor, which, when looked at properly, might yield some much needed answers. We had not yet run out of options and that lifted the general mood…_

 

Kate found herself looking at some old maps of Erebor with Thorin after breakfast. She’d be no use if she were to work together with Dwalin, who’d been tasked with splitting the company into teams that would search specific sections of the mountain wall to see if they would perhaps chance on any door. She could plan reasonably well, but Dwalin was someone with an altogether strategic mind and some things were best left to the expert. Kate knew herself well enough to know that she was not the expert in this case.

So she spent some time with Balin and Thorin, both of whom remembered Erebor from the days before Smaug had come in and had taken the kingdom for his own. Both of them had known pretty much every hall and every corridor like the back of their hands and now they were trying to remember if they had ever been come across some hallway that would have appeared to lead to a dead end, or one corridor of which they didn’t know what was at the end of it. They spent the day pouring over old maps of the inside of Erebor, trying to link any shaft or corridor to the west wall, which might give them a more accurate position. Thus far however, they’d not had a lot of luck.

Kate found that she was not as much of a nuisance as she had at first believed she would be. Thorin and Balin didn’t seem to have that much of an advantage and the maps were both old and difficult to read. If they were readable, the text on it could often be interpreted in more ways than just the one.

‘I’ve got a fourth thing about dwarves,’ she muttered angrily, just as Balin dismissed an idea she’d just had. ‘They can’t make maps. Honestly, who made this one, a cross-eyed coot who’d forgotten his glasses _and_ his brains?’ The frustration at having yet another avenue shut down was starting to grate on her every nerve and her patience with the idiot who had been wrongfully informed he possessed the skill to create a readable map was rapidly running out.

Thorin favoured her with a stern look. ‘I am sure my grandfather would have appreciated your comment,’ he said wryly.

Kate realised that taking a gulp of water had not been such a good idea when she nearly choked on it. ‘Your grandfather made this map?’ There she went again, her and her far too quick tongue. For some reason she kept talking all of them into trouble time and again. She had been rude to the Great Goblin, had shouted abuse at Azog the Defiler, had insulted a mighty king of elves in his own halls and could now add the impressive feat of insulting the in-laws without knowing it to her list. Why, oh why couldn’t she just learn to think before she blurted out whatever it was that was on her mind? ‘Thorin, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

A few months ago he would have bitten her head off for the likes of the comment she had just made. Good grief, even a few weeks ago he would have made sure she was on the receiving end of one of his death glares, never mind that he would place a wry remark, like he had just done. This relationship of theirs started to have more advantages by the minute, it would seem.

Now he just settled for something that with some imagination might pass for a stern look and a curt nod and Kate was glad to find that although they were now a couple for all intents and purposes – even if it did still feel rather surreal to her to be quite honest – some things had not changed. Love didn’t change people that drastically, like some stories would have one believe. Well, people changed a little, she supposed, but they were still themselves. She still blurted out everything that popped up in her mind and Thorin was still less than amused about some more tactless remarks of hers. The fallout was a little less bad though and Kate was grateful for that at least.

‘This pathway seems to lead to nowhere,’ she said, focusing on the task at hand to switch the topic and hide her own embarrassment. ‘This one, over here. And it seems to be in the area where we should search for our tunnel and secret door. If we can locate the spot on the outside, would that not give us a place to start searching?’

Balin shook his head. ‘No, lass, it leads to a staircase over there.’ He pointed it out, making the advisor rather feel like a fool for not noticing it. In her defence, the map was not very clear at all. It may have been King Thrór himself who made it, but that didn’t make her assessment of him being a cross-eyed coot anything less accurate, although she might not say so out loud again. Add to it that the map was written in Khuzdul runes and that made for one difficult thing to read. Her speaking of the dwarvish tongue was coming along nicely, but she would be the first to admit that it could have been loads better when it came to the writing of it, for which there had not been very much time at all. Her ignorance was showing now and she hated it.

‘Bugger,’ she muttered, wishing the ground would just open and swallow her up. Before now she had started to feel like she was actually useful to have around. Good grief, she had manipulated a Master of a town more or less into doing her bidding, had outwitted some elves and it was her knowledge of the book that had enabled Bilbo to get them out of Thranduil’s dungeons. She wasn’t just a burden anymore. Well, it would seem now that her use was at an end, even if it was hopefully temporary.

‘Never mind it, lass,’ Balin said with a grandfatherly pat on the shoulders. ‘It is a difficult map to read.’ He sent a meaningful glance at Thorin.

The dwarf king gave a curt, if reluctant, nod. ‘My grandfather’s eyesight waned with the years,’ she admitted.

‘And his mind wandered some days,’ Balin finished. ‘Don’t look at me like that, laddie. You know it to be true.’

Kate wasn’t exactly comfortable around this conversation. She was sure that this was one thing Thorin did not want her to know. She had a feeling that he was often ashamed of what King Thrór had done in the last years of his life and she could not in all honesty blame him for feeling that way, not when it was obvious that it hurt him so much. Besides, the advisor did want to know something about her future in-laws, but to find things out in such a manner, that was not what she’d had in mind.

Fortunately she was saved by the bell or, in this case, a certain Mr Bilbo Baggins, who had more or less sneaked up on them while they were caught up by the map in front of them. ‘Kate, could I speak to you for a moment?’ he asked. For some reason the hobbit looked rather flustered. The only thing missing was him wringing his hands.

She sat up a little straighter. ‘Of course. What’s the matter?’

‘In private, please?’

Now there was something wrong. No one ever asked for something to be discussed in private unless it was serious. And Kate didn’t quite know what to make of it. Bilbo had not been a very courageous hobbit when they had set out on the quest, but he had found his courage since then. She remembered seeing the determination on his face as he got into the boats when they left Lake-town. He had not been truly nervous since she had first told him it would be up to him to get them out of Thranduil’s hospitality suites. When he had been in the process of getting them all out, he’d gone about it with that same determination.

‘What is the matter, Mr Baggins?’ Thorin had sensed trouble as well. He favoured the hobbit with a stern and somewhat wary look that would have sent anyone else running for the hills without as much as a second thought.

Aforementioned hobbit looked like he would like to do nothing better than that, but he stood his ground. ‘I’ll discuss that with Kate, please.’

Kate exchanged a look with Thorin and shrugged, to signal that she didn’t know what he was going on about either. As it was, there was only one way to find out. Besides, Bilbo’s conduct had made her curious. It was one of her vices and she found herself almost incapable of not demanding what he was so secretive about on the spot. It would not do her any good anyway; he was not going to tell her here. ‘Sure,’ she said in what she hoped would be a nonchalant manner. ‘I’ll be right back,’ she told her two companions as she got up. _And hopefully with some workable answers._

And so she followed Bilbo to a secluded spot somewhere a little away from the camp. The secrecy of it all made her curious and uneasy at the same time. Mr Baggins was not the type of fellow to keep secrets. He carried his heart on his sleeve. If he thought something about something, anything, he’d say it out loud. He may stammer his way through it, but he’d say it either way. To keep secrets was not like him at all. Kate couldn’t say she appreciated the change in behaviour, although she probably wasn’t one to talk at all. She might have changed during this quest more than anyone else.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked when they had come to a halt. She wasn’t known for beating around the bush after all, when it didn’t come to relationships and the like anyway. ‘What don’t you want Thorin to hear?’ Because that was the most important thing here, something that clearly wasn’t meant for Thorin’s ears.

Now Bilbo had never been the dwarf king’s biggest fan, had always had a healthy dose of respect and fear for him, but lately he looked at him as if the dwarf could attack him at any moment and that was something Kate could not reasonably explain. Yes, Thorin could be a frightening presence, but he held it within reason. He had snapped at the hobbit a few times, but lately he seemed to come around where Bilbo was concerned. Nothing she could think of justified Bilbo’s current attitude.

‘Well,’ the hobbit began, now truly wringing his hands. The gesture did nothing to calm the advisor’s nerves at all. ‘You… you remember that you asked me to read a chapter of your book in Mirkwood?’

 _Had to coax, plead and order you into it, more like_ , Kate thought wryly, but now she thought she was starting to understand what this was all about. But she’d better ask to be entirely sure that she had not misunderstood. ‘Yes, I recall,’ she answered. ‘What about it?’ That may be a bit too blunt; she had spent entirely too much time hanging around Thorin and his bad manners. He was rubbing off badly on her already.

‘Well, it all seemed dreadfully accurate,’ Bilbo said. It did not escape the advisor’s notice that he was not meeting her gaze.

Kate nodded. ‘It is, at times. But there are quite a few things different as well.’ She remembered all too well how frightened Thorin had been by it at first, although he would probably never use the word frightened to describe his state of mind. It could be overwhelming, she supposed. It had been like that for her as well, albeit for different reasons too. ‘The book is something of a guide, I reckon, and a warning at times. Things do not necessarily have to go the way the book wants them to.’

Bilbo carried out a count of the hairs on his feet, if the intense stare he directed at them was any indication. ‘I know.’

Her first impulse was to ask how pray did he know, but then she remembered that although their escape from Mirkwood had gone rather the book way, she also knew that she had made him read the whole chapter for good measure and not everything in that corresponded neatly with Tolkien’s writing. Had it scared him so much that he now came to her to be reassured? Sure, Kate understood that he would not want to appear weak in front of Thorin, who might just make fun of the poor hobbit for being so easily frightened, but then she’d think he’d have come sooner. No, instead he came now, while she was clearly busy, as if it was a matter that could not wait for even a few hours longer. Things didn’t quite add up and there were fewer things Kate disliked worse.

Still, the hobbit’s timing had been somewhat unfortunate a few times before and so she decided to be patient with him. ‘It unnerved you,’ she stated. On the hobbit’s confirming nod, she continued: ‘But what did you come to me for? Why now?’ Curiosity be cursed, she wanted to know. The longer this went on, the more time she had to think about it, the more seemed wrong with it all, and it was not just the timing. Everything was wrong with this and that was something that made Kate’s skin crawl.

‘So, you… ehm… you don’t think everything in that book has to happen, do you?’ For a hobbit who had only just found his courage, he seemed to have lost it quite quickly again. Rather suddenly, actually.

‘I know that not everything happens,’ Kate pointed out. ‘You know that too. Bilbo, would you kindly explain to me what the hell this is all about?’ she added, getting rather fed up with all this running around any number of bushes. Dwarvish honesty she could handle by now, no matter how blunt, but this hobbit’s shyness she could not. For heaven’s sake, he reminded her of a school boy being caught making the very worst sort of mischief, which would place her in the role of the adult tasked with thinking up a suitable punishment for the offender. The problem was that the crime, if there even was one, was as of yet unspecified.

‘Well,’ Bilbo began hesitantly. ‘I was just wondering if that is true for all of the book, so to say? Or was it just that section of it?’

This had a frown appear on the advisor’s forehead. Bilbo’s talking, which might be passed off as rambling too, seemed to indicate that he had read more of _The Hobbit_ than just that one chapter. But that could not be possible, could it? She had kept it with her at almost all times. Bilbo would not have known where she kept it at all. ‘Did you read it?’ she questioned, hardly able to believe it. ‘More than just the chapter you read in Mirkwood?’ It seemed somewhat impossible, but then, impossible did not seem to be a word that applied to this particular hobbit. He had surprised them all more than once already.

‘All of it,’ Bilbo confessed, a little ashamed at least.

It left Kate’s head reeling. ‘ _All_ of it?’ she echoed disbelievingly. ‘But how?’ The why question felt a lot less urgent now. After all, no matter what Bilbo liked to think, he was a curious hobbit, about as curious as Kate herself, and she was more or less convinced that it had been curiosity that had made him leave behind his home and his comfortable chair and seven meals a day. It was at least part of the reason. Yet she had never dreamed that Bilbo might take matters into his own hands by nicking the book and reading it all for himself, especially taken into account that he had not been that eager to read as much as one letter of it when she asked it of him in the first place.

But curiosity was a powerful thing, something she could bear witness to herself. And once he had read something, he might have felt the lure of knowledge, something he did seem rather susceptible to, and had been unable to restrain himself from finding out more. As much as she admired his courage, it also left her with quite a lot of new problems to face, just as she had been about to believe she had solved the bulk of them. Admittedly these problems were of another nature altogether, but they did not seem as easy to solve. Bugger curiosity and all its consequences.

‘In Lake-town,’ the hobbit confessed. The way he was acting one would think he’d committed bloody murder, but that was not of any relevance now. The consequences might even be worse, when this knowledge was used in the wrong way. ‘When you were seeing to Balin day and night. I just sneaked into your chamber…’

‘… Opened my backpack, took the book, read it and put it back without me or anyone being any the wiser,’ she finished.

Part of her admired the hobbit for his courage and the rather brilliant simplicity of the plan. Because brilliant it was. For days she had been too occupied with Balin’s wellbeing to pay much attention to anything else. If she came into her room at all, it was often just for sleeping. Reading didn’t happen for quite some time. In those few days the book could have gone AWOL without her noticing its absence at all, especially if Bilbo had put it back in the exact place he got it from. Borrowing without permission, as Captain Jack Sparrow would say.

‘Heaven help me, Bilbo, when did you become such a skilled burglar?’ Because that was what he had become, inconvenient though it may be under the given circumstances. The question was of course rhetorical and she went on without waiting for an answer. ‘And now I suppose you don’t know what on earth you’re supposed to do with it,’ she added, feeling more than a little displeased. Having Thorin know the contents of the book was nothing short of a blessing and she would not deny that Bilbo knowing it too would come in handy in the days to come, but not now. He looked positively miserable and distressed. _And in I come to sort out the mess, she thought angrily. Keep this up any longer and I might as well become the company’s social worker while I’m at it._

‘I _know_!’ Bilbo must have heard her angry undertones and responded to it. When riled, he did have a temper, Kate had come to learn. Right now, he was giving a perfect demonstration. ‘But I don’t think I can do all things that this book says I will do! I can’t go stealing the Arkenstone! You know what will happen!’

Kate was torn between wanting to be indignant on Thorin’s behalf because the burglar demonstrated so little faith in the dwarf king’s strength of mind or rolling her eyes in exasperation. ‘I _don’t_ want you to do everything in that book!’ Her words came out snappier than she had intended them to be. ‘That’s the point of me being here, to help you change all that.’

Bilbo’s face cleared, as if some big burden had been lifted off his shoulders. ‘I thought that you were meant to make sure everything went according to the book.’

Bilbo Baggins was in no way a stupid hobbit, but Kate could not help but think him incredibly thick-skulled then. ‘Do you think I mean for Thorin to die here?’ she asked sharply.

That had the hobbit all in a fluster. ‘No, no, of course not!’ He all but tripped over himself in his haste to assure her that this was not the case. ‘I thought Gandalf, well, being Gandalf, would want you to assure that the quest succeeded, in his absence and all that.’

That reasoning made a bit more sense, if not much. ‘There are more ways to skin a cat,’ she replied curtly.

And that was exactly what she intended to do. Gandalf may have brought her here to make sure this quest succeeded, but Bilbo did not know what else he had intended for her to do. _Thorin is a very stubborn dwarf. He needs someone to make him see sense every now and then, someone he cannot ignore too easily. And I’m afraid I needed someone who would not be too much in awe of his reputation to tell him the truth_. Somehow she doubted the grey wizard would approve of what had happened now though. There was no way that she would share that particular piece of information with the burglar though. It was no one’s business, save hers. _Keep your head, Andrews, you’ve got important business to be getting on with._

Bilbo was still very ill at ease. ‘You want to keep the good bits, and leave out everything else?’ he summarised. Kate was grateful that he didn’t point out that which was obvious to both of them: that there were hardly any good bits to keep from this point on.

‘Aye,’ she nodded. The burden of that made her feel as if she was trying to shoulder the whole sodding Mountain on her very shoulders. It was not a pleasant feeling at all. ‘And seeing as you’re in on it now as well, try to keep from stealing anything, or mention any Lake-town to the dragon.’ She felt weary and short-tempered. Brilliant though Bilbo’s actions may have been, they created complications unnumbered. Well, there was at least the silver lining of not having to spell everything out for him anymore.

‘I… I…’ Bilbo stammered.

‘And if you steal the Arkenstone, I’ll throw you out myself,’ she threatened. Her reasoning was that if Thorin didn’t go all crazy about a stone he couldn’t find, but had it already, he might be a bit more focused on things that truly did matter. Bilbo keeping that jewel back could cause untold damage.

‘So, you do not think that Thorin will throw me out?’ Bilbo asked.

‘Don’t think so.’ _Although he may be none too pleased when he hears about your recent act of burglary._ ‘Just… just…’ Just what exactly? Kate came to realise that she didn’t have a single clue what to do. She knew what she didn’t want to happen, but she had no suitable alternative in mind. When it came down to it, she did not even have a real plan to stop Thorin from losing his mind. Now there was an uncomfortable thought if ever she’d had one. ‘Just wait until I’ve thought about something.’ It was the most lame thing she’d said in quite some time, but unfortunately the only thing her mind could come up with. _And try not to do something foolish if you can help it in the meantime._

 

***

 

Thorin considered himself to be quite a good authority on the moods of Kate Andrews. It had happened without him noticing, but it had happened all the same. There was cheerful Kate, the woman he’d only seen but a few times, since a quest was hardly the time to celebrate. There was thoughtful Kate, when the advisor had a distant look in her eyes and a slight frown in her forehead. Whenever one talked to her when she was in such a mood, there was not much chance of getting any reply. Chagrined Kate there was as well. She was much the same as thoughtful Kate, only the scowl was deeper and any look was more of a glare than a normal glance. Angry Kate was noisy, glaring daggers at the recipient and voicing her displeasure at the top of her lungs.

Thorin had however trouble identifying the mood the company advisor had been in ever since her conversation with the hobbit. Her hands were fidgeting and her mind was decidedly not on the map she was supposed to be studying. She was absent-minded, staring off into the distance with a scowl and frown so deep Thorin might fear they would end up etched into her forehead if she carried on much longer in such a fashion. Whenever she thought no one was watching, she was chewing on her lower lip and she didn’t do much of the talking. At first Thorin might have had believed this was only because she did not believe she would have anything to add to the conversation, had he not known that this behaviour had started after her talk with the hobbit. By the time he saw her helping Bombur to cook dinner, he realised that she was fretting about something.

But there was no time to talk to her, not with all the other people demanding his attention. Their scrutiny of the map had left them with a few clues that might prove useful to them, and those clues he went over with again with Dwalin, who would be in charge of the search itself. Dwalin was a good warrior and a good friend, but he also had a good mind for any practical matter. This was practical, right up his street.

The dwarf king slowly started to feel some hope restored to him. He had not even aware that it even had been lost, but he supposed the surroundings and sheer vastness of the west side of Erebor would do that to someone. The back door would not be awfully big, easy to miss and if they weren’t in the right place at the right time, they could still overlook it, no matter what the book said. Kate had warned him often enough not to take its words as gospel and he had learned the hard way that was indeed a very foolish thing to do.

But more than he feared not finding the door, he feared finding it even more. Because when he found it, then he would have to face a dragon and reclaim a kingdom. It was not confronting the firedrake that made him feel like his blood had turned to ice though. Yes, he would regret dying, but it would be worth it. If he died to give others a chance, then that was a worthy death, a noble one. If it gave his people back what was theirs, it would be better still. He would go down fighting, no doubt about it.

No, it was what lay in the Mountain itself that frightened him: the treasure. The book told him that a dragon’s hoard would awake greed in anyone, especially when one had not conquered it for oneself. That of course he did intend to do. No one would do his slaying for him, not while he had anything to say on the matter.

But that did not seem he would not be vulnerable to the dragon sickness. He had seen his grandfather succumb to it and had been unable to do anything about it. Thrór had locked himself into the treasury for days, counting his wealth, refusing both food and sleep. Company he forsook almost entirely when the gold lust was at its worst. Thorin had sought him out from time to time, more desperate each time, trying to coax his grandfather out, but he had been sent away each time, unable to do anything. He hated to even think it, but the invasion of Smaug may have been good for Thrór in a way. Smaug’s coming had snapped him out of his ailment, had made him sane again.

But madness was an affliction that ran in the family, Thorin knew. His own father had lost his mind during the battle of Azanulbizar. _Thráin, Thorin’s father, went mad with grief_ , Balin had told the hobbit once. And that was the truth of it. But Thráin had been unwell before that, his eldest son knew. Sometimes there was a gleaming in his eyes, almost like a fever when he spoke of reclaiming what was rightfully theirs. The battle had been his undoing, the final tie to sanity being cut as Thrór was beheaded. 

And their blood ran in his veins as well. He was their direct descendant. How much chance did he stand of escaping that blight on his family? True, he had lived in Erebor before and had never experienced any of the gold lust he had seen in his grandfather. But then, it were only the last few years before the dragon came that Thrór had fallen prey to it. Thorin had seen, but had never asked if there was any fighting it, if there was a way to defend oneself against it or if it just took one’s mind without the victim even being aware of it themselves? He simply could not tell.

And in this way Erebor was both his best dream and his worst nightmare. Yes, he longed to give his people back their homeland and he could not deny that his heart soared at the very sight of his one true home, but at the same time he feared the consequences of being so close to it. The Mountain was a looming threat to him as well as a beacon of hope. It could yet prove to be his undoing and, consequently, of everything and everyone he had ever fought for.

And it made him want to turn back. He would never call himself a coward, but a retreat might be best for his people. He could hand the leadership to Fíli and turn back himself, to protect both him and them from the worst effects of the gold. Fíli was young still, but he sometimes behaved as if he was well over a century already. And he was not the kind of person to fall for the lure of the dragon’s hoard. Mahal be praised that the lad had inherited Dís’s no-nonsense character in things like that.

The mentioning of the word king around the fire made him pay a little more attention. At first he thought that there was some kind of important discussion going on, but then he noticed that most of his men were quiet and that the only one talking was in fact the advisor. In the time he had been consumed by his own thoughts, Kate had picked up the book and had begun to read to the company, as she had done quite a lot of the time in Esgaroth as well. _‘“No. The King’s under the law,”_ ’ she read, impersonating a character with some poor attempt at a commanding and regal tone. ‘ _“For it’s the law makes him a king. Hast no more power to start away from thy crown than any sentry from his post.”_ ’

The dwarf king had long since lost track of what the story was even about. He had missed too many of the reading sessions in Esgaroth, being always otherwise preoccupied, and it didn’t help matters that he had been very much lost in his own thoughts just now, but these words hit home with the force of a sledgehammer being swung against his chest. Because they were true, Maker help him. He had a duty to his people. And he didn’t think there had ever been one king who had given the crown to his heir while he was still alive. Kings ruled until their deaths. That was the way of it.

And running away would not only be a radical break with every tradition his people held dear, it would also be the coward’s way out. It was not what a king, of whatever race or people he belonged to, should do. And he had never been known as a coward.

And whatever it was that Kate was reading, it seemed to follow his line of thought. ‘ _“For this is what it means to be a king: to be the first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there’s hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”_ ’ Kate just read the words without being aware of their true meaning. And why would she be aware of them? It did not concern her, not in the way it concerned Thorin. Kate had not grown up learning these things as Thorin had. These rules had been drilled into his head ever since he was a young lad, listening to his grandfather’s lessons as he was seated on his knees.

A king should be the first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat. He would not be doing any of that if he turned back now and let Fíli reclaim the land Thorin had been dreaming of for so many long years. It was Thorin’s duty, not Fíli’s. If he wanted to be King under the Mountain, then he should prove himself worthy of that title. He would never be worthy if he ran.

The reading ended soon after and Thorin ordered his men to get some rest, so that they would be able at start the search at first light. Kate’s book had claimed that the company’s spirits were low around the time that they would start the search for the door, but as far as the dwarf king could see, his was the only spirit that was low. The rest of his men seemed to be bursting with energy and he had a fairly good idea why that was. It was the same book that made him fear his future. _The Hobbit_ had given them good directions as to where to go looking, and a good chance of success. That same book had described how the company would not know what to do anymore, but now they did know what to do and it made his men cheerful. Thorin was grateful for that.

‘Okay, out with it,’ a voice next to him said. Kate came to sit next to him, her cloak and a blanket wrapped around her against the cold, for it was a chilly night.

Thorin threw her a confused look. ‘Out with what?’ he questioned.

‘Whatever it is that has you staring at that fire as if it has gravely offended you,’ the advisor said. The tone of voice and the conversation itself reminded Thorin of Mirkwood and the kind of conversation they’d often had there. Now that their personal issues had been resolved, it would seem that they were at liberty again to fall back into that easy friendship. It just wasn’t only friendship anymore, it was something deeper and stronger.

He wasn’t ready to discuss his thoughts with anyone though and so he favoured her with a stern look. ‘You should get some rest. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.’

‘I’ve drawn first watch,’ Kate countered. ‘You weren’t really paying any attention earlier, were you? There was almost a row over who would take the second. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice that ruckus.’

Thorin by now recognised an opportunity to distract Kate from her what’s-the-matter-crusade when he stumbled upon it. ‘What was the fight about?’ he inquired, meanwhile cursing himself for not paying a bit more attention to what was going on around him.

‘Good-natured arguing, more like,’ Kate corrected. ‘Nori didn’t feel like keeping second watch at all, and neither did Kíli. So they got stuck in a rather pointless argument over who had to do it.’

Thorin loved his youngest sister-son with all his heart, but he really needed to realise that watch duty was something one just did. Arguing over it served no one, except their enemies. And while the dwarf did not think there were any real enemies in this lifeless wasteland beside the dragon that was hopefully still sleeping in the Mountain, they should be on their guard at all times. It was inevitable when one lived in the wilds.

‘How’d it end?’ he demanded. ‘Dwalin sorted it out?’

Kate shrugged. ‘Nah, not really. I merely suggested Kíli took watch and Nori did pony-duty. For some reason they took my word as gospel.’ She sounded both thoughtful and wary now. ‘Is that something you perhaps have some kind of explanation for?’

He did, and he thought Kate knew it too. By the sound of things she did not like it though. Yes, she had taken charge a few times before, but she seemed uncomfortable with it, but now that the relationship between them was becoming common knowledge, that would affect the way she was treated. And Kate was bound not to like that; she had worked hard to be seen as just one of the men. ‘Why not put Kíli on pony-duty and Nori on watch?’ he asked. Because she may have made a suggestion only, but that was not how her words would have been interpreted. He doubted there had even been one single protest. ‘Are you not afraid we will find some ponies stolen at sunrise?’

His distraction worked, for Kate laughed. ‘I don’t think so, no. We’d know he’d be the thief, so the risk’s too great. Besides, do you really want Kíli looking after any ponies after that disaster last time? I mean, there’re probably no trolls around, but still.’ Her reasoning was interesting and true enough, he expected. It reminded him of the way his mother used to solve problems. Kate did have the qualities of a queen from time to time, even if she was hardly aware of that herself.

‘Good,’ he simply said. ‘What of third watch?’

‘Bilbo offered to do it.’ At the mention of the hobbit’s name the frown crept back on her forehead, so whatever it was Kate had been fretting about all afternoon, the halfling was almost certainly involved in some way.

‘What is wrong with Master Baggins?’ he questioned. He may not be feeling in the mood to share his worries, but when the advisor was in a mood like this, she would tell him what was wrong, if only to get it off her chest. It was the way she was.

She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Playing at being a social worker again, are you?’

He shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Good,’ Kate said. ‘Because it would seem that’s become my official job these days.’ She seemed equal parts frustrated and angry. ‘Our burglar has got a lot more skill than we gave him credit for apparently.’

Bilbo had stolen something? Thorin had not been sure what he had expected, but this was not it. Yes, he knew that the hobbit had stolen the keys from a not very unwilling Elvaethor and he had stolen them all from Thranduil’s dungeons, but that did not make him a real burglar and it certainly did not bring him up to level with Nori’s skills.

At the same time he feared that burgling skill. The book clearly stated that it would be Bilbo Baggins who stole the Arkenstone and handed it to Thorin’s enemies. Yes, he did not plan on falling prey to love of gold, which would render the theft itself unnecessary, but was there really any telling what would or would not happen? Could he fully trust the hobbit to do as he should?

This matter had not come up before. By all rights it should have, but when he had first read the book he had other things on his mind, like the deaths of his sister-sons and his own mental health. Besides, the hobbit stealing as much as a brass button was laughable then. The more he saw of the hobbit, the less suited he seemed to the task Gandalf had planned for him.

That had changed in Mirkwood. The hobbit had displayed both bravery and a certain newfound skill to enter places the elves didn’t want him entering. And despite his claim in Hobbiton that he had never stolen a thing in his life, he had taken food from the elves – who were supposed to be the most sensitive beings to walk Middle Earth – without them catching him in the act. The burglar was becoming a real burglar, and that was a frightening thing.

Still, he was a more or less likeable fellow, even if Thorin would never be heard to admitting that out loud, and the idea of him betraying the quest like that was still as laughable as it had ever been.

‘What’d he steal?’ he demanded, curious now as well.

‘My book,’ Kate grimaced. ‘If you’ll believe it. Stole it, read it and put it back while we were looking after Balin in Lake-town. Then, he didn’t know what to do with the knowledge he’d acquired, so he came running to me to ask me what to do. Idiot.’ That was uncharacteristic of her. Kate was fond of the halfling and they seemed to be close to friends every now and then. It was not like her to speak about him in such a way.

Having said that, it was a shock to find out that Bilbo Baggins had apparently practised his burgling by stealing Kate’s book and reading it. ‘He read it?’

Kate threw a small twig onto the fire with more force than necessary. ‘That he did, hence the social worker session. He didn’t know what to do, thought he was supposed to make the book come true, thought he would be thrown off the main gate if he stole the Arkenstone, which he didn’t think he could steal at all, because it wouldn’t be right.’

The report was in true Andrews style, Thorin observed. She just rambled out everything important in the span of one single breath. Still, he understood what she was on about. And it worried him. It made him believe that he would have to keep a close eye on the hobbit from now on. If Mr Baggins truly did believe that it was his duty to make sure that Kate’s book came true exactly the way it was written, then he would have to be careful. In the greater game of things, Bilbo Baggins was a key player, one who could make this whole dreaded book come true if he chose to do so. And if that was his choice, then he could no longer rely on him. He would need to be sent away, sooner rather than later. He could not work with someone who sought to undermine everything he had fought for.

‘What did you say?’ He would love to think that his voice betrayed none of the tension and fear that he felt, but that would be a lie.

Kate threw him a wry look, but there was determination there as well. ‘I talked him out of it,’ she said dismissively. Something told Thorin he did not want to know exactly how she had done that. ‘And I told him that if he as much as thought about stealing the Arkenstone, I’d throw him out myself. That seemed to land the message home.’

That took Thorin by surprise. ‘You would?’ He knew that now they were together, some things had changed, but he had not truly realised just how much until he heard the words come from her lips.

And together or not, he still got an eye roll for his troubles. ‘Back to the stupid questions, are we?’ she said in a slightly mocking tone of voice. ‘No need to look so bloody surprised about it. We’re on the same side, in case you’d forgotten.’ She sighed. ‘You’re moody, so get some sleep, will you?’

She had noticed that about him too? He should not have been horribly surprised, but he was. Still, if Kate wanted flippancy, she could get it. ‘I thought you did not fuss?’

‘I didn’t think you were much for it either,’ she countered, keeping up the banter with a twinkle in her eye that betrayed that, at least for a few moments, the matter of the burglar had been banished from her mind. ‘But there we are. And since we’re a couple now, I get to do that as well from time to time. It’s only fair.’

He supposed so. Still, the warm feeling of being cared about like that had long been a stranger to him. And the pleasantness of it drove the burglar matter, at least for the time being, from his mind entirely.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What to do about the bloody hobbit?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’ve got a few announcements to make. From now on I’m going to bring this down to once a week updates. This is the results of several things, real life and some personal issues first and foremost. The other thing is that I may have bitten off more than I could chew with writing three stories at the same time. It worked during the holidays, but it doesn’t work so well now. This means I’m going to speed-write for Operation Wandless in the coming weeks so that I can get that finished as soon as possible. I’ve got a few difficult chapters ahead for that one, so it’s best I can give it a little extra attention. I hope that when that’s all out of the way I can resume the twice a week updates for The Journal, but until further notice it will just be the Sunday updates for a while. I’m really sorry and I hope you’re not too disappointed.  
> On a happier note, I’ve uploaded the extensive version of Thorin’s flashback in chapter 59 in Duly Noted. I hope you’ll like it.  
> So, next time: Dwalin and Kate have a chat and the same is true for Bilbo and Thorin. In the meantime, please review? I’d love to hear your opinion!


	62. Search for Answers

_Yes, what to do about the hobbit? That was the question that kept me up at night in the following couple of weeks. Strange, some of you might say. Why would we get ourselves so worked up over a hobbit who read a bit more than he was supposed to read? Jack, my little opportunistic darling, you might even see it as a chance to make the quest succeed and the thing is that I am not entirely sure that you would be wrong about that._

_At the time however Bilbo’s idea that he was supposed to make the book come true was keeping my head rather preoccupied. If anything, this was not the reaction I was hoping he would have to reading the book. Admittedly, I’d rather he didn’t read it at all, but there was no way to undo it now that it had been done and we would have to learn to live with the consequences, whatever they were._

_And that was the matter precisely, because I was not at all sure that I had persuaded him to see my point. Oh, I did think he was genuine in his desire not to get thrown from the battlements above the main gate, but that did not always mean that he would not conquer his fears and do it anyway. Hobbits, so I had learned, could be remarkably bloody-minded when they had made a decision and Bilbo Baggins was no exception. It must be the Took side of the family, I suppose. And I had seen him when we left Lake-town, the determination in his steps as he made for the boats, after having taken a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself for the worst, but he was going through with it regardless. Something about that was rather unnerving, I’ll admit._

_Not that it is merely a hobbit trait. Dwarves can be remarkably set in their ways as well and Thorin was proving to be a prime example of that the following morning, when the search would begin in earnest. I thought I had noticed a certain reluctance in his demeanour, but that was gone instantly the moment he had a purpose. He stood with Dwalin, making seven teams of two to search different parts of the Mountain wall. The teams had been Dwalin’s idea and now he paired the stronger company members with the weaker ones, balancing out the skills._

_Making teams turned out to be a form of diplomacy in and out of itself, since some members certainly did not want to work together. There was reluctance from most to work with Nori, since people were afraid that by the end of the day they would find their pockets picked. I can’t even say I blame them for thinking like that. In the end he got paired up with Balin, whom he respected too much – because of his age no doubt – to steal from._

_Dori and Thorin had both volunteered to put up with me for the day, but Dwalin was the one who was making the teams and he vetoed that, stressing that if he wanted any work done, that would not happen if they went up the Mountain with me, for fear of lectures and lovebirds behaviour respectively. Your father’s face, if pictured then, would have won prizes when he heard Dwalin say that out loud. Dori made a show of protesting, claiming that he needed to look after his little sister, but Dwalin stated that if I needed looking after, he could do that as well and that was the end of it. Dori got paired with Bombur and Thorin was sent off with Bilbo, who seemed to tremble at the very prospect. Glóin would keep track of Ori during the day. Fíli and Kíli tried to make off together, but Dwalin stated that he didn’t think that would get them any further and despite the many protests, Fíli was sent to scout the area south of them with Óin, as Bofur and Kíli stayed in camp to mind the ponies._

_I would readily admit that this was the best way to go about this. At least it made me rethink Dwalin’s qualities. Up till then I had believed him to be more strength and loyalty than brains, but that had been a poor assessment of his character. He may not speak much, but that didn’t mean he was unintelligent. What I did wonder about was why he wanted to work together with me, and had been so insistent about it, when I wasn’t even sure that he could stand the sight of me…_

 

The sun was already well on its way to its zenith when the arguing finally ceased with one last roar from Dwalin’s mouth, which might rival any dragon’s in volume for all Kate knew. Kíli had been stressing again that, no offence to Bofur, he would really work best with his own brother. Dwalin disagreed, quite loudly. If they carried on in this way, it would be nothing short of a miracle if the dragon wasn’t wide awake by the time they’d found the blasted side door. They’d made such a ruckus already, quite a few times too, that the monster would have to be deaf in order not to hear it. On the other hand, Óin had slept through the argument over watch last night…

She went back to the spot she had slept in to make ready for the day’s excursion. And she had better make sure that she was well prepared, because Dwalin did not have an awful lot of patience with her even on the best of days. Today, after all the petty bickering over who had to work with whom, tempers were running short already and Kate was in no hurry to get on Dwalin’s bad side, not when that was where she was already spending a lot of her days.

She saw Thorin approach, worry spelled out clear on his face. She still thought it didn’t suit him. ‘Yes, I will be working just fine with him, no, I’m not made of porcelain and no, there’s absolutely no excuse to wrap me in cotton wool for the rest of my days, thank you very much.’

She would not go back, would never go back on her claim of loving him, but that didn’t mean that the dwarf king suddenly should be able to get away with everything. There were still parts of his personality that grated on her nerves and in a way that was quite reassuring. It meant that she and he were both still more or less themselves. She had a fleeting vision of the two of them as an elderly couple bickering good-naturedly over a cup of tea and smiled at the mental picture. Of course that would mean that she would stay in this world and that was something that was still in dire need of being discussed. But not today. When this whole quest was over and done with, then they would sit down and work something out. Kate didn’t think there would be any time before that.

‘Kate Andrews…’ He started in that well-known tone of voice that he always used when it was obvious he disapproved of something she did or said. The minor difference was that the Kate had replaced the Miss.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him forcefully, even though she was in fact quite sure that fine was an exaggeration. Her stomach clenched with nerves at the very thought, but Kate was sure she’d die before she admitted that to anyone, least of all to Thorin. Besides, it was not as if Dwalin would bite her head off. He’d see her return safely to camp, if not for her sake, then for Thorin’s. She had recently started to wonder if there was anything he wouldn’t do for his king. Kate strongly suspected he would battle a dragon with his bare hands if Thorin asked it of him. Now if he could only bring himself to like her a bit better.

‘I do not doubt,’ Thorin said, but still seemed remarkably displeased.

But Kate meant it; if he was looking for a partner he could unleash that inner gentleman of his on to his heart’s content, then he should have found himself another woman. She was not going to stand for such behaviour; she was not the average Disney princess material after all. ‘Then I don’t think there’s a problem,’ she said, digging up her walking shoes from home. They were better than her boots for this outing, since they were made for the purpose of hiking in mountains. And she was unlikely to improve Dwalin’s opinion of her if she came ill prepared. He’d never let her live it down. ‘This fussing, it does not suit you.’ Truth was, he fussed over all the company, just not as visibly as others might do. What she was sure of was that it normally didn’t have a place in their relationship and it made her uncomfortable. It was only a day with Dwalin, for heaven’s sake, Thorin’s supposedly best friend. She could honestly say that she had worse, angry elves and murderous orcs for example.

‘If you fall to your death, I will revive you to kill you myself,’ he vowed. It was Thorin’s unique brand of worry, using her words. Now it was official they’d been hanging around one another for too long.

‘Fine by me,’ she agreed, knowing it was the quickest way to deal with things like that. ‘Be a bit gentle with the hobbit if you can, though. We do need him alive and I think he’s scared enough of you as it is.’

That was true enough, she supposed. Bilbo had been shooting looks at Thorin that suggested the dwarf king had turned into a starved warg overnight, one who had his eyes on the halfling as his next meal. He might even have some solid reason for thinking that, because Thorin had not been pleased with the news she had relayed to him, although Kate suspected it was rather the dwarf being afraid of the hobbit, because of what he might do. The world had to be turned upside down before Thorin would admit to being afraid, though. It had not seemed an issue before, but then Bilbo had not believed that it was his solemn duty to make a certain book come true. Everything was messed up again, as if this was not going to be difficult enough without any further complications.

‘The hobbit is not scared,’ Thorin stated.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t he?’ She left it at that, checking if she had everything she would need. Good shoes, waterskin, few provisions, first aid kit, book. It was all there. The rest she left at camp. Bofur and Kíli would make sure nothing happened to it. Well, she hoped so at the very least.

Thorin helped her to her feet. He seemed to think very hard about what he was going to say, but in the end he settled for a rather brusque ‘Be careful’ and planted a kiss on her lips before she could even start to think about a reply to that, taking her completely by surprise. But it was a nice change from how things usually went. It made her feel loved, wanted and needed. Even if she could not change everything she wanted to change, her presence mattered anyway. That was something she would never be saying though. Too cliché.

But it did feel good. It helped her in convincing that this was in fact all real, that this was not some fantasy she had invented. What was between them was no less real because she didn’t feel like her head was stuck in the clouds all day long. In fact, she preferred that it wasn’t. This companionship, that she could do. If she was really honest, she wouldn’t deny that those kisses were amazing and that she was enjoying all the new aspects in their relationship very much as well, but that was a thought that best stayed in her head. Dori might suffer a heart attack if he heard. Besides, she thought there was a fairly good chance she would die of embarrassment if anyone would ever hear her say such a thing. She had such a thing as dignity.

It was only when he walked away, with that annoying grin on his face that told her he knew exactly what kind of impact his actions had, that Kate realised that in fact there had not been many days of late when they had not been in each other’s company. The last few days before arriving at the Mountain, when she had been ignoring him, yes, but that had not made her or him any happier. She had grown used to having him around. In fact, she had grown so used to it that the thought of not having him anywhere near for hours on end was somewhat bewildering and qualified as unpleasant in her head before she had consciously decided to label it thus.

She didn’t know whether or not to find this alarming. She missed her family too, but she could not remember having been bothered by their absence for a few hours. They sometimes went days without seeing each other and they were all perfectly fine with it. Good grief, even with Marc at the time she had not felt like this. Maybe that was her common sense telling her that he was no good for her anyway, but there was no way to be certain. She was new to this and it was frightening in its own way.

It at least meant that leaving was out of the question. If she was feeling unpleasant over just a day, then long-term separation was no option for them. Her mind had been trying to impart the knowledge on her that staying in Middle Earth was really the only thing she could do from the moment she had given up her fight of trying to keep Thorin at arm’s length. Cliché or not, she felt safe with that dwarf around. She felt whole, she felt home.

And that was an alarming development. Was she truly that heartless that she would abandon her loved ones, leaving them in doubt about her fate to chase her own happiness in a world and amongst a people that may not like her? Could she give up the life she had in her own world? Everything or nothing. It was as simple as that. There was no middle ground and whichever way she chose, someone would get hurt.

‘You’re silent, lass,’ Dwalin commented. ‘Something on your mind?’

Kate grimaced. ‘Too much on my mind. I’m sorry I got distracted.’ And she was. They still had a side door to find after all. And Dwalin was hardly the person to get distracted around. Kate still felt like she was walking on eggshells around him. He was a difficult person to get along with and it was always a feat to determine exactly where she was standing with him. At the moment she believed they may have a ceasefire, maybe even a truce. In Mirkwood he had told her that she was good for Thorin and that was apparently reason enough to stop bothering her, for which she was grateful. His opinion mattered to Thorin, quite a lot as well. 

They were scouting the area near camp. There were several pine trees on their patch, which told Kate that they needed to go quite a bit higher before they would find the door they were looking for. The first clue they were searching for was a great stone that stood almost like a pillar, and rough steps leading upwards near that pillar. Thorin had made her tell this to the entire company, so that they knew what to search for. It had made Kate feel a bit uncomfortable, but as long as it worked, there was no real problem, she supposed. It was just that she was not entirely comfortable with sharing what she knew with just everyone. Having Bilbo helping himself to it had made her realise that everyone knowing what was going to happen was not that much of an advantage as she had first believed.

Dwalin shot her a scrutinising glance. It was almost wary. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘What are you thinking of?’

‘It is of no concern to you,’ Kate replied. She thought he sounded almost hostile and she had a good idea of why, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. ‘I do not intend to leave Thorin behind, if that is what you’re afraid of.’

The expression on his face told her that her assessment of the situation had been spot on. Suddenly she realised that although Dwalin was no close blood relative of Thorin’s, he was his closest friend and she may just find herself on the receiving end of a lecture the likes of which Dori had given to Thorin. Meddlesome dwarves. Could they just not leave people to conduct their own businesses in peace? Apparently not. It must be something in the air in this world that made people so meddlesome. She could not remember it being like that at home, apart from her mother of course.

‘You always said you wanted to leave.’ Dwalin sounded gruff and still very much offensive and thus confirmed every suspicion his partner for the day had about his intentions. It would also explain why Dwalin had offered to go with her himself. And to think that he had been the one to veto both Thorin’s and Dori’s claim because he wanted to get work done. The words pot, kettle and black sprang to mind. She never had believed him to be so plotting. It must be Balin’s bad influence.

And Kate didn’t think there was a way she would get out of this, so she might as well answer his questions and find some answers of her own along the way, if she was very lucky. ‘Yes, I did,’ she confessed. It was hard to deny that anyway, with all the ruckus she had made over it a few months ago, so she might as well be truthful about it. ‘But I can’t actually leave now. Which is a problem, because I’ve got family at home as well and last time I checked, I couldn’t be in two places at once.’

‘What will you do?’ Dwalin was still very busy imitating the Inquisition, even if he wouldn’t know what that was.

‘The million dollar question,’ Kate replied wryly, before she realised that expression would not make any sense to him. ‘Or, as you might say it, the million gold pieces question. Doesn’t just have the right ring to it.’

Why was she even having this discussion with him? Yes, Dwalin was Thorin’s friend, but that didn’t give him any right to pry into her private life. She had grown up in a world where one’s privacy was respected, protected. But she was no longer in that world. She was even facing the prospect of never seeing her home again. If she was serious about her relationship with Thorin, and she was, then that was a prospect she had to get used to. She would try to adapt to an entirely different world, with customs that were alien to her. No doubt daily life under the Mountain would be different from what she had known in just about every aspect. The thought of it was overwhelming. And she was planning to give up the life she had at home, all for love? It sounded like something out of a crappy romance novel, too cliché.

 _Get a grip, girl_ , her brain told her. _Life is not a fairy-tale_. But if she didn’t want to live fairy-tales or fanfictions, then maybe she ought to have given that a bit more thought before she had that conversation with Thorin. Now it was already said and done. Leaving had ceased to be an option. Kate just passionately wished that it still was one.

 _Fighting the inevitable, more like_. That was what this was like. She was trying to fight a decision she knew she had to make. Loyalty, honour and a willing heart was what Thorin had asked for. Loyalty he had, that was for sure. Kate had been sure of her allegiance for months, even before their relationship developed beyond friendship. Honour was a more complicated concept, though. She had grown up in a world, in a society, where honour didn’t mean anything anymore. It was something medieval, something one associated with knights going on quests in King Arthur style. It didn’t have a place in her world anymore, so Kate could not for the life of her say that she had it. A willing heart she had, only it was infested with doubts and wishes that could not come true. What a bloody mess.

‘You will not leave him.’ Kate was trying to determine whether this was a question or a command. She had a feeling that it was the latter.

‘I won’t leave him,’ she agreed. It’d be like leaving part of herself behind. ‘I wouldn’t do that to him. But it doesn’t solve my problem.’ She pretended to be very interested in the path ahead. It had not escaped her notice that she, without thinking, had just promised not to go home again. She was not entirely sure what to make of that. And she was not sure what to make of this conversation either. What she was certain of, was that she didn’t want to have it. ‘Listen, Dwalin, I know you mean well and I know you care about Thorin, but this is something I’ll have to work out on my own. No one else can help me with this, so I’d really prefer it if we could just leave this subject alone and go on with the search.’ She made good on that intention at once. ‘Now, the book says that we ought to look a bit south for this stone.’ She snorted. ‘I love Tolkien’s works, but would it have killed him to add more directions?’ _Well, it may not have killed him, but it might have killed the story_ , her brain commented. He had been writing a children’s book, not a manual on how to find hidden side doors in a positively huge Mountain. Right now, she wished that he had and readability of the story be damned. It would make her job a bit more doable every now and then.

Dwalin however was not quite ready to change the topic of the conversation, in spite of Kate’s less than subtle attempts to do just that. ‘You don’t have to do it alone, lass.’

She rounded on him. ‘Yes, I do,’ she snapped. ‘And I can’t remember having even asked for your advice, so kindly keep it to yourself. Good heavens, I can’t even seem to think of one reason why you are trying to have this conversation with me. Last I checked, you didn’t even like me, so why are you making an effort? Just for Thorin’s sake?’ Because if that was the case, he was welcome to bugger off.

‘Aye,’ Dwalin said. ‘But you’re wrong too. I don’t dislike you.’

Kate smiled wryly. ‘You don’t particularly like me either. No, don’t bother to deny it. I know how things are.’ Part of her was longing to shout some more, but common sense reminded her that shouting might make the balance shift to dislike faster than she could blink her eyes. If she was truly to stay here, heaven help her, then she might start making a habit of listening to it a bit more often.

For a person who didn’t bother with words unless he could help it, Dwalin was sure in a talkative mood. He didn’t have those normally. Well, he had them when he had something important to discuss, like the search for a side door that would help them reclaim a long lost kingdom. That was the kind of discussion he opened his mouth for. Talking to her certainly didn’t rank that high. ‘You’re with Thorin,’ he said, as if this explained everything. To him, it might. ‘And you won’t leave him now, will you? That makes you one of us. It’s our business too.’

It seemed a very simple way to go about this all. It was almost too simple in Kate’s opinion. As far as she was aware, none of this was easy. None of it had ever been. This quest, the friendships following it and now her relationship with the very King under the Mountain – what had she been thinking? – it had all been complicated right from the very start and now she had to admit that she had not only broken her own rule in getting romantically involved – with Thorin Oakenshield himself no less – but now had happened what she had feared for months; she was torn between two places, two different families. A choice had to be made and it had to be made soon. The thing was that she already knew what she would have to choose.

Part of her resented Thorin for that, but that was irrational; he was not to blame. No, if blame had to be dealt out, it would be her who would take it. And she accepted that, if not willingly, because it was the only thing to be done. And consequently it was her problem, although she could not deny that Thorin was allowed a say in the matter as well. Dwalin, however, had nothing to do with it.

‘Maybe,’ she said, hoping that a partial compromise would make him back off and forget about the whole sorry business. It was not very likely, but one could hope. ‘But I don’t even know what to do about the whole bloody situation, so I doubt anyone else is going to.’ Even Thorin, who understood the desire to go home to a certain extent, could not truly relate to what she was feeling. How could he? He had never been torn apart like this and Kate hoped to God that he would never know what it felt like.

‘Can’t you just go back once, say goodbye? Gandalf owes you a favour or two after putting up with his schemes.’ Dwalin didn’t actually look at her as he said that; he was too busy examining a path just in front of them. It was just the kind of casual remark that betrayed that the speaker thought it the most natural thing on earth to suggest. Chances were that he hadn’t even thought about it before he spoke the words.

To Kate however it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders and she could not understand why she had not thought about this before. Had she been blind all this time, completely overlooking the solution that was staring her right in the face? The fog in her head and heart started to lift. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling hesitantly, but sincerely. ‘Yes, I suppose that might just work.’ Hope, Kate decided in that moment, was one of the most powerful things in all the wide world.

 

***

 

Thorin didn’t think Dwalin had made the teams purely to taunt or torment him, but he could not have made a worse choice even if he was trying. He believed that his lifelong friend was indeed completely unaware of the strain existing between the hobbit and himself. And why would he be aware? He could not have been.

But Thorin found himself dreading the day ahead and strangely enough it had nothing to do whatsoever with the fact that he would soon be facing a dragon. The reason for his unease was one small hobbit, who could hardly hurt a fly with that letter opener of his. But he was dangerous in his own right. Thorin knew the book and there was no chance of him ever forgetting what he had read in it. So much depended on Mr Baggins’s actions that it was downright frightening to realise what power he had. Should he use that power to make the book come true, then where would this quest end?

And the question that followed from this was if he could still trust Bilbo Baggins. Gandalf had been the one to choose him. It was obvious that the hobbit, although not enormously fond of the grey wizard, relied on him, followed his lead before he followed Thorin’s. This made him a liability, first and foremost because Thorin still did not know what game Gandalf was playing. They had a few sentences, a few words and when one started to think about it, it could still mean anything. Come to think of it, he had never actually said how he wanted this quest to end. Aye, he wanted the dragon gone, but he had never said anything about the company’s fate. It was hardly a secret that Gandalf disliked Thorin as much as the dwarf king disliked the wizard. And Bilbo Baggins was Gandalf’s chosen burglar. From now on he would have to be extremely careful around the halfling.

But if he thought like that, he ought to be more careful around Kate as well. She was Gandalf’s choice as well, after all. But unlike Mr Baggins, she had never given the impression of having any liking for Gandalf. Quite the contrary, she had disagreed with him so often that there could be no doubt of her loyalties. Of course Gandalf may have wanted to bend her to his will, but in that case he had underestimated his chosen advisor. Kate didn’t bend to anyone’s will, least of all to the one who had abducted her in the first place.

Over the course of the months she had made it quite clear that she meant to change things, no matter what the company wizard thought of it. And she had been the one to threaten to throw Bilbo off the battlements herself if he meant to follow through with his plans. _No need to look so bloody surprised about it. We’re on the same side, in case you’d forgotten_ , she’d said. No, he had not forgotten, but the feeling of being loved thus was new to him. Of course he didn’t think he could say that. He felt it all the same.

How strange that he had set out on a quest for his homeland, but that he now found that he had gained a future bride as well, without even looking for her. Kate had just crashed into his life, intent on leaving as soon as she could. Things had changed drastically in just a few months’ time. How strange life could be.

He joined the hobbit at the edge of camp. Bilbo Baggins looked nervous and seemed to be perfecting the art of looking anywhere but at the dwarf king. _Be a bit gentle with the hobbit if you can, though. We do need him alive and I think he’s scared enough of you as it is_. At first he had dismissed that notion without a second thought, but now he might need to rethink. It was clear that Master Baggins was as ill at ease as he could possibly be.

‘Mr Baggins,’ he acknowledged.

He got a nod in response. The hobbit’s tongue seemed to have abandoned him, strengthening Kate’s assessment of the situation, strange though it may be. Was the hobbit not aware of his own power in the events that had yet to unfold? Was he completely ignorant of it?

‘Let us go,’ he said. He had a reputation of being taciturn and unsociable anyway. He might as well make the most of it and ignore the burglar as much as he possibly could. Part of him was seriously contemplating sending him back to Esgaroth to have him out of the way. He could send his sister-sons with him, as an escort. It would be killing two birds with one stone: he’d be rid of the burglar and the lads would be out of harm’s way. Thorin would make sure that Smaug would not come within ten miles of them. The plan certainly was tempting.

Mr Baggins understood the need to keep his mouth shut without needing to be told and the morning passed in silence, but otherwise without result. Thorin knew what to look for, but the pillar-like stone that should be their sign was nowhere to be seen. Of course he should not have been hoping for such quick success, but he had and now that there was nothing to be seen, he felt disappointment welling up in him.

‘We will rest here for half an hour,’ he announced when the sun was in the south. They needed to eat and the hobbit looked tired, not to mention exhausted. ‘You ought to rest more, master hobbit,’ he said brusquely. ‘You will be no good to this quest when you can’t walk for exhaustion.’ Kate called this his own way of caring, and he had cared before. What he did now, he did not know.

The hobbit looked up from his spot on the ground. ‘Kate told you, didn’t she?’ There was weariness and wariness alike.

Thorin fixed him with as stern a stare as he could manage. ‘We do not keep secrets from one another.’ There could of course be said quite a lot about the truth of that statement, because he knew he didn’t say everything he thought to Kate and he was convinced that she in turn had a few secrets of her own, but where the quest was concerned, his claim was true. There were no secrets there and it was as it should be. In time maybe the other secrets would be history too. He could only hope so.

Bilbo Baggins looked as if he wanted to make a run for it, but he remained in place. ‘You…’ He trailed off, not knowing what he should say.

And that made two of them. There was an awkwardness that Thorin associated with the time after his first kiss with Kate. That was a development that did not bode very well. The cause for it was of course entirely different. There was strong distrust on both sides. Thorin could not honestly trust the halfling anymore and aforementioned halfling was clearly scared that he would find himself thrown off the Mountain any second now.

‘She informed me that you believe it to be your responsibility that the book comes true,’ he stated. _And consequently you’d see my sister-sons and myself dead before winter’s end_. And that was what frightened him. Could one hobbit really mean to end lives? Was he even aware what consequences there would be if he followed through with his plan?

Master Baggins looked to be in a bit of a fluster. ‘I don’t want all of that to happen!’ he protested. When the hobbit was angered, he seemed to forget that usually he was too shy – or afraid – to say more than five words to Thorin. In anger he reminded the dwarf king a bit of his bride-to-be. ‘Gandalf didn’t tell me what I was really supposed to do, and neither did you, oh King under the Mountain.’

He had a point there, Thorin would have to admit, if he was the kind of dwarf to admit that he had overlooked something. He wasn’t. He could however rectify the situation. ‘You are here to scout the dragon’s lair and search for his weaknesses, so that we can kill him,’ Thorin informed the burglar. ‘If you do that, you will have fulfilled your contract and are free to leave whenever you choose.’ And the sooner that moment had arrived, the better it would be. Even if Bilbo swore here and now that he had no intention of stealing the Arkenstone, Thorin did not think he would be able to fully trust the halfling anymore, not after voicing his intentions to see that the book came true.

‘I see,’ Mr Baggins said, still very uncomfortable, if his shifting his feet was any indication. There was something he was obviously dying to say, but he held back and Thorin was not feeling like inviting him to say what he wanted. ‘You will not throw me off the Mountain?’ The need to have an answer to that question was so urgent that he could not hold it back apparently.

‘If you do not steal anything to give it to my enemies, I have no such intention,’ the dwarf replied. He didn’t say that he would never do such a thing either way, not as long as he was in his right mind, which might be just the problem. Would he be in his right mind? He had seen his grandfather often enough in the throes of the gold lust, unable to tell friend from foe any longer, his temper provoked by the smallest of actions. There was no telling what he would or wouldn’t do if he fell victim to that illness. He could only pray that now that he was aware of the danger, he would be able to see it coming long before it got to him. That was his best and, so he feared, only hope.

‘I don’t want to steal anything!’ Mr Baggins protested.

‘Then there is no problem,’ Thorin said coolly. Or at least, that was what he hoped, but if he shared his fears with anyone, it would be the people he knew he could trust. The hobbit was not yet among them, might never be among them. The hobbit might yet speak the truth and truly have no plans to rob Thorin of the heirloom of his line, but there was no telling for sure and he knew that watchfulness was best.

‘I see,’ the hobbit said. ‘Kate said that there are more ways to skin a cat. I didn’t really mean for all that to happen anyways.’

That sounded like something the advisor would say. He could almost see her say it and that was a welcome distraction.

‘Very well,’ Thorin heard himself say. ‘Then if you are done resting, master hobbit, perhaps we can continue our search.’

The halfling jumped to his feet, almost as if he was eager to prove that he was on the dwarves’ side in this quest, eager to prove that he had something to contribute. The attitude was wasted on Thorin though. Kate’s revelation and the conversation with the hobbit, if it could be called a proper conversation, weighed heavily on his mind.  He was close to letting the doom and gloom the book had mentioned slip into his heart. And it was easy to give it access. The skies were full of clouds, obscuring the sun and the very Mountain was so dark and maimed that it was too easy to allow dark thoughts into his head.

Because he remembered what this place had been like long before Smaug came here. He remembered the peace, the beauty, the many trees on the slopes. Many a day he had run around here with his younger siblings, not a care in the world. This very place had been one of their favourite spots, since the trees were so good for hiding behind or, in Frerin’s case, in.

And he found himself lost in memory yet again. It was difficult to see now, but the rock he now stood on had once been surrounded by a huge pines and a multitude of smaller bushes. It had only been a few weeks before the dragon came that Dwalin, Frerin, Dís and Thorin himself had been in this very same place, released from his duties for one day, so he could babysit the youngsters while his mother attended an important meeting of nobles from Erebor, Dale and the Iron Hills for a trade agreement. By all rights he should have been there, but he had seen more than enough negotiations to last him a lifetime, or so he had believed, and therefore he had pleaded with his mother to let him off for the day. To his relief, she had agreed.

‘Off you go, son,’ she’d said. ‘Take care that you bring them back in one piece.’

That would hardly be a problem, especially when Dwalin joined in. He was not technically close family, but to Thorin he was often enough just another brother. They had been inseparable from a young age on. ‘If you see Thorin, Dwalin can’t be that far off,’ Thorin’s father had once commented when Fundin had wondered where his youngest son was. And that was probably the truth of it. And the friendship between them had not waned over the years, something Thorin was grateful for. He knew better than to take it for granted, not when so many of those who could afford it had led an easy and prosperous life in the Iron Hills, choosing to stay well away from the suffering the rest of their people had to endure.

‘So, what are we doing today?’ Thorin recalled his younger brother asking, feet on the breakfast table as they were discussing their plans for the day after their parents had left. He would never have done that if anyone would still be there to see it, or there’d be a lot of trouble for the offender. Frerin was not a young boy anymore, but he had never quite lost that mischievous streak. And why should he? He was not meant to sit on a throne one day, so he could go through life with all the privileges of a prince, but almost none of the responsibilities. That could be a very dangerous combination for a ruler and their father had been overheard to exhale in relief at the prospect of Thorin and not Frerin being heir to the throne. ‘Aye, I’d fear for the kingdom should Frerin ever rule,’ their mother would say to that, but she would smile and that took the sting out of the remark.

‘Can we go outside?’ Dís had asked immediately, unleashing her most well-behaved little girl look on her eldest brother while she sat on Dwalin’s lap. ‘Can we, Thorin? Please?’

Thorin reasoned that it was probably better to cause chaos outside rather than inside, what with all the delegates crowding the palace today and so he had nodded. Dís had let out a squeal of happiness and bounced more than she ran all the way to the front gate. She had been a spontaneous girl when she was young, always up to some mischief or other, often with Frerin, her partner in crime and her big example, in tow.  

Dwalin and Thorin followed at a slower pace, making their way to the western slopes of the Mountain, staying fairly close to the front gate, but not too close. By the time they arrived in the spot a much older Thorin was now standing in, Frerin was already busy climbing a tree, with Dís trying to follow suit.

Thorin grabbed her before she could make good on that intention. ‘No, little elf!’ he laughed. ‘You don’t get to climb.’ _You’re too young for that_. That he did not say though. Dís had a temper and would hardly be amused with her elder brother mothering over her.

Dís glared. ‘I am not an elf,’ she protested.

‘Could have fooled me,’ Dwalin commented with a smirk. ‘Only elves climb trees, don’t they, Thorin?’

To that the dwarf prince had nodded. ‘Aye, that’s true. And look here. I think that’s a pointy ear I see,’ he said, pretending to examine his sister’s ears. ‘No doubt about it, we have an elf in our midst.’

Dís aimed a punch at his chest. ‘I’m not an elf!’ she said forcefully. ‘Dwarves climb trees too. Frerin does it.’

‘Another elf then,’ Thorin reasoned. ‘Dwalin, what am I to do? I am surrounded by the tree lovers!’

‘Oi, you’ll regret that!’ came his brother’s voice from up the tree. It was difficult to be sure, but Thorin could have sworn his eyes were sparking with mirth. ‘Sister, will we stand for such behaviour?’

‘We won’t!’ Dís declared.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ Frerin agreed as he jumped down the tree and tackled Thorin to the ground before he could react to the sudden assault. The whole thing had ended up in a wrestling match that had dirtied their clothes, undid their braids and left them looking as if they had wrestled with a troop of wargs, which was not too far off the mark, Thorin commented wryly with a look at his siblings and Dwalin, who had come to their aid, the traitor. All of them had laughed and all was right with the world. Not three weeks after they were running away from their home and the world would never be right again.

That brought Thorin back to the here and now. Because those good old days were gone and they were never coming back. They had all grown up since that day. Frerin had not been alive for more than a century. Aye, he died a burned dwarf, but Thorin found that was little consolation. He’d much rather have his brother with him on this quest, spreading good cheer all around, than the hobbit. Frerin would have loved the company of Bofur and he’d have doted on Fíli and Kíli beyond the shadow of a doubt.

But he wasn’t here anymore and now it was just him trying to take back his home. _And what, pray, does that make of me? A piece of luggage to be strapped to a pony?_ He could almost hear Kate’s sarcastic remark and it did what he hoped it would do: it broke him out of his gloomy mood. With company around he usually didn’t feel like he was surrounded by the ghosts of the past. The hobbit still wasn’t much of a companion. Since their conversation he was doing a very fine job of blending into the background as much as he could in order not to provoke Thorin’s temper. He was searching though, quite visibly too. He did make an effort of this, Thorin could tell. Why he did that was more of a question though.

The search yielded next to no results that day, he learned when he came back to camp, and Thorin tried not to feel the disappointment too deeply. It was only to be expected. Even with the combined clues of the book and the map, the western side of the Lonely Mountain was still very huge and the side door itself was only small. Besides, it was a dwarf door, made to be invisible when closed. That was the way of his people and it had successfully prevented attacks in the past. Unfortunately it meant that his company now had a hard time finding the door.

He went to bed early. The others’ spirits were dampened a bit by the lack of success too, but evidently it was nothing a meal and a few songs could not fix. Most of them were having a good time by the time Thorin searched out his bedroll. Even Kate was laughing. She had made to follow him, but there was no earthly reason why she should not enjoy good company only because he was not in the mood for it. He’d beckoned her to stay, which was easy, because she was sandwiched between Bombur and Ori and her brother was demanding her opinion on something he had just read in her book. Thorin had slipped away while she was distracted.

Sleep eluded him though. He ended up looking at the stars that managed to find a way through the clouds, trying not to listen to the songs that were sung at the campfire. He was only disturbed when someone came to sit next to him.

‘Kate?’

‘The one and only,’ she commented. ‘Bloody cold here too.’ She shifted some things around and kicked off her shoes. ‘I’m never camping in the winter again.’ The advisor shivered as she sought her way under the blanket and then put her cloak over it for good measure. ‘Bofur swears it’s going to freeze tonight and I think he’s right.’

Thorin looked sideways and smiled at the sight that met his eyes. Kate was curled up like a baby would do, blankets pulled over her head, only leaving her face free. ‘Come here,’ he ordered.

‘What would Dori think?’ Kate grinned. ‘He’ll be shocked to the core, I’d wager.’ She obeyed nonetheless and curled up in his arms. ‘Night then.’ She didn’t say anything more. She had not even pestered him to ask what was bothering him, which was very unlike Kate. Maybe she realised that she was not going to get any answers should she ask. It did not truly matter though. For now it was just enough though to know that he was not alone in this, even with so many of his kin dead. The very evidence of that slept in his arms until the morning came.

* * *

From Kate’s notes: _I can’t imagine a person sleeping in this cold for weeks on end. Good grief, they must think me a spoiled little girl for not being able to handle it so well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got two announcements this time. The first is that, even though I won’t probably change my update scheme for this story for quite some time, there might be an extra chapter this week, probably on Thursday. So, keep an eye out for that.   
> The second announcement is that this fanfic now got a fanfic written about it. Peetapen has written two chapters so far in Duly Noted style, about Thorin and Kate in their future. The story is called Much like Duly Noted, posted on ff only as far as I'm aware, so if you like Duly Noted, you might want to check that out.  
> Next time: Nori embarrasses Kate and Durin’s Day arrives.   
> Please review? I’d love to hear what you think!


	63. Durin's Day Miracle

_The next three weeks continued much the same. We searched while there was daylight and retreated back into camp when the sun went down and there was no more light to see by. It was an exhausting way to live and it affected our moods too. There was still singing and storytelling at the campfire, but there was not as much enthusiasm to it as there had been when we had only just arrived at the Mountain and we were simply delighted that we had been able to make it that far. Even with the clues we had, searching was difficult and after a while, every rock started to look the same to me. There were no grey stones, no thrushes and Durin’s Day was drawing ever closer._

_And the disappointment proved to be as much of an enemy as the cold that crept into our bones until I was left with the feeling that I would never be truly warm again. We slept close together, rules of propriety be damned. It was a necessity of life and now more than ever it became apparent that neither Bilbo nor I were as sturdy and immune to the cold as the dwarves in the company. Bombur told me I was just too skinny for even a human being, although since he seldom had seen any of those in his life – and the nobles of Esgaroth were definitely too fat to be considered healthy – that was rather debatable._

_At least it provided me with a good excuse to sleep in Thorin’s arms at night. The romantic value of that was somewhat lessened by the fact that Nori kept me warm on the other side – and he used to wake me as well with his loud snores right in my ear in the middle of the night at times – but I drew comfort from his presence. Thorin was losing heart as well, I could see that clear enough. We all were and your father was no exception, my dears. For him it might even be worse than for the rest. Not that we talked about it. In those days there wasn’t much talk of anything unless it concerned the Quest for the Side Door or the occasional storytelling at the campfire and more often than not we were too tired and cold at nightfall to conjure up the energy to delve into one another’s problems. But to have someone so near was sometimes all the consolation that was needed. There was support, the silent knowledge that someone cared and understood without words._

_And it was that kind of companionship we both valued. Being in a relationship had not made me see the world through rose-coloured spectacles all of a sudden. Some people have that kind of relationship and that is fine. I prefer what your father and I had and still have. Maybe that is not very romantic, but it is reliable and it has lasted all these years, even through arguments, fights and our own stupidity at times. I would not have it any other way._

_And even though I didn’t mention any worries about my mother and brother to Thorin, I knew he understood, at least to a certain extent, and that he cared. But those worries had to take a backseat for a while, at least for the duration of the search, I had decided. That took precedence and even if I had wanted to spend time thinking about home, or Dwalin’s suggestion for that matter, I didn’t think I could summon up the energy for it, not with searching from dawn to dusk every single day. It’s a part of who I am, I suppose. There was an immediate “crisis” to be dealt with, which automatically meant that everything else was unimportant for the simple reason that it was in the future. It had been like that throughout the entire quest and was unlikely to change then. I dealt with today’s problems first before I started to even think about tomorrow’s. It has proven to be a good way to hang on to my sanity. To be quite honest, by the time Durin’s Day dawned, I don’t think I had spent as much as a moment thinking about home for at least a week…_

 

Durin’s Day dawned with clear skies and freezing air that made Kate hide under her blankets and against Thorin’s chest a little more. Ranking fifth on her list of dwarvish characteristics – after them being hairy, no vegetarians, incapable of quiet movement and ill-suited to make any readable maps – was that dwarves were a good source of warmth. Who needs central heating when there was a dwarf available to cosy up to? As far as the company advisor was aware they were far less susceptible to cold than either she or the hobbit were. Now she was sandwiched between two of them and that kept the worst of the cold at bay. And Nori’s nightly snores were a small price to pay if the other alternative was freezing to death, which she did not fancy at all.

And it felt safe. While her brain knew that the risks of getting burned to a cinder by an angry dragon, should he wake before they were safely inside the Mountain, were just as big if she was sleeping alone as when she slept with Thorin’s arms around her, to her it seemed as if she was just safer when she was with the dwarf. He had faced and survived the dragon before, so it stood to reason that he could survive again. Childish reasoning, but Kate found that it helped her sleep at night, so as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, she was content with it.

‘Are you awake?’ a soft rumbling voice asked.

Kate looked up, shivering as she had to move a small distance away from Thorin to be able to look at his face. ‘Back to the stupid questions?’ she asked, shivering violently as the cold air got underneath the blankets when she moved. Nori muttered something unintelligible in his sleep when he felt it too. ‘I’m awake. Did you sleep at all last night?’

She knew the answer before he spoke. Of course he had not slept last night. How could he with Durin’s Day looming over them like a guillotine about to cut off all their hope of getting into the Mountain before next year? If they didn’t find the side door before the sun set today, then there was no chance of getting in before next year’s Durin’s Day. And Thorin would be even more aware of it than she was. Of course the book made no mention of such a thing happening, but Kate knew better by now than to let her expectations be influenced by the book too much. It had the potency to lead to a lot of disappointment, even as she found herself wishing for it to be true, just this once.

‘No,’ was the curt and predictable answer.

And this made the advisor feel bad about herself. She had drifted off the moment she had started to feel a bit warmer and comfortable than she had before. It had been a long and tiring day and the fatigue was bone-deep by the time she finally had a place to rest her head. She had been aware that Thorin was eating himself up over it, but her eyelids had been so heavy that she could not keep them open, no matter how much she wanted to. Her body insisted on reminding her that even though she was in the company of dwarves, she had none of their endurance or their immunity to cold. It made her feel like the weakest company member once again and she hated it.

‘I tried to stay awake,’ she muttered, too aware of her own failure. There had not been much conversation between them for a while. Things had not been helped along because they were in two different search teams, and at camp there was not much talk either, mostly because she could hardly keep her eyes open after dinner. She was too tired, exhausted, a human weakness. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It matters not,’ Thorin said. ‘Lie still. Morning is not yet upon us.’ He spoke of the morning as if it was a death sentence, which it might well be.

‘It will be soon,’ she countered. ‘No point in bloody well trying to deny it. And even if we do not find it, there’s still the front door. Now, if I was a dragon, that would be the last place I would expect my enemies to try and come in. We may yet find a way to open it and get in all the same. I don’t think that we should think ourselves out of options just yet.’ Kate was not entirely sure who she was trying hardest to convince, though: Thorin or herself.

She could feel his deep chuckle more than she heard it, what with her head still against his chest and his arms around her. ‘Have you become a social worker overnight?’

Relieved that she at least made him smile, if only for a short while, made her smile. ‘Don’t get used to it. It’s not exactly my dream job.’ She shivered again and she cursed her own stupidity in letting even a gush of fresh air under the blankets. The cold crept up on her. ‘Anyway, I didn’t take you for the type to throw in the towel and admit defeat before all is said and done. Don’t start ruining your reputation now.’

This time she was rewarded for her efforts not by a chuckle, but by a soft kiss to the forehead, the closest part of her he could reach without getting a mouthful of hair. Kate would have preferred a kiss on the mouth, but one couldn’t have everything and if she wanted a kiss on her lips, she would have to move again, heaven forbid. Cold had a remarkable way of rearranging one’s priorities.

 _Andrews, you’re being a baby_ , she told herself. The day she valued her comforts over investing time and effort in her relationship was probably the day she died. And so she reached up and gave him a kiss on the mouth, which was better therapy for his troubles than talk of empty promises. There was no guarantee they would find that blasted door today or that they even would be able to get in by the front gate. There was just nothing she could say that could make this look any more hopeful. They could only give it their best shot and then hope and pray that it would be enough. Now that was not very hopeful-sounding at all. The mood in camp was growing ever more Tolkien-like by the second. The last few days it had been doom and gloom all around. Kisses at least were a good distraction and it was certainly true that there had not been much time for those between the search and the company’s curious stares.

It could have bothered Kate that her relationship with the dwarf king was nothing like what she would usually label a normal relationship. They had not talked much since the whole mess that was the complex bunch of feelings had come out in the open. In fact, not much had changed at all, with one very noticeable difference of course. And she liked that. She just wished there had been more time for conversation.

No, it was nothing like going on dates, watching movies together and eating in restaurants like she had done with Marc. That might have been a normal relationship in her eyes. She had bonded with Thorin over crises that could have been the death of them and over a book that predicted his downfall. They could not have been any less romantic about it if they had tried. Still, for all its imperfect elements, it felt all the more real to Kate. It was far more sincere, and far stronger than her relationship with Marc had ever been. No doubt he would have run away from her instead from to her when she was attacked by an orc. If that didn’t tell her everything she needed to know about his character, then his girlish wailing when she had broken his nose for a perfectly acceptable reason had.

Kissing with Thorin wasn’t all about passion either, she observed. It was about belonging and being loved as well. It was a way of conveying feelings that neither of them were comfortable with putting into the spoken word. Kate didn’t think Thorin was the type to say ‘I love you’ and the company advisor knew herself well enough to know that she was not the kind of woman to speak of her feelings either. Good grief, she had only admitted to loving Thorin out loud – pretty loud, she had been informed – when Balin had more or less forced her into it. Their relationship, she supposed, was based more on actions than on words, which was all right, because they usually spoke louder anyway. Thorin had confessed to loving her with a kiss that could have left no doubt of his feelings, whereas Marc had used a lot of fancy words to tell her so – up to a point that Kate strongly suspected him of having used the dictionary to come up with them – but he had proven to be unfaithful in the end. That was a risk she was unlikely to run with Thorin.

And so she enjoyed the kissing. For a while it even almost made her forget about the icy cold. Almost. She was only brought back to earth when someone behind her commented on her actions with a disgusted ‘ugh.’

She broke the kiss and swivelled around, accidentally shedding the blankets and exposing herself to the cold. It was obvious immediately that that had not been a good idea, so she snatched them back and wrapped them around her, glaring at the person who had startled her in the first place. ‘Nori! You scared the crap out of me!’ she snapped. And she felt embarrassed as well, although she might not admit to that so readily. Kissing Thorin was one thing, having your brother witness the fact was quite another. She could feel herself blush crimson red in embarrassment.

But if Nori had actually cared about the opinion of other people, he’d not have gone thieving, living on the wrong side of the law. ‘Can’t you find a room?’ He looked like disgust incarnate, in fact, he suddenly resembled Dori quite a lot.

And his comments on her love life were just the last straw. ‘Sure,’ she growled in a tone of voice that was known to have even made her father back off somewhat. ‘Then you can go right ahead, find the bloody door, kick the dragon out and then we will go and find a room. Gladly.’

‘No need to get your dander up,’ Nori muttered, looking slightly abashed, but not very much so. ‘I just don’t like to see my little sister…’ He trailed off, in search of the right words. ‘Well, you know…’ He shrugged.

The amused feeling of seeing her usually so unshakable brother being reduced to a stammering mass of dwarf was trumped by her embarrassment and anger. ‘Then you know what to do,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t look. It’s not as if I particularly enjoy the feeling of my brother literally breathing down my neck when I’m kissing…’

Nori cut her off, clearly uncomfortable with discussing the intimate details of Kate’s private life, as well he should. ‘Right. I get it. Just… just take it somewhere else, will you?’ He peeked a look at Thorin, but couldn’t meet his eyes because of his own embarrassment. ‘No offence and all, but…’

Thorin silenced him with an icy look, which Nori must have glanced from the corner of his eyes. ‘Understood.’ It was a dismissal by any other name. He got up, put on his boots and walked to the place where the last of the campfire was still burning. Kate, having a rather desperate wish to get the hell out of here, followed suit. Behind her she could hear Nori mutter a curse as she let another gush of freezing air under the blankets as she got to her feet. _Serves him right_ , she thought venomously, cheeks still burning with shame at having him see such an intimate moment. She had honestly believed him to be asleep still. _Well, it could always have been worse_ , her brain commented. _He could have walked in on the two of you three weeks ago._ Now there was a horrifying idea. He didn’t think she’d have survived the humiliation of it if Nori or, heaven forbid, Dori had found them then. Never mind the dragon, she might just have died of shame instead of fire.

She wrapped her cloak and several blankets around her for warmth and then joined Thorin near the fire. The dwarf king was rekindling the dying fire with something that looked very much like a smirk on his face. The corners of his mouth kept curling up and Kate didn’t have to think hard to guess the reason for his better mood.

‘Glad to see you liked the show,’ she commented wryly. Privately she was a little bothered that Thorin did not appear to be as bothered by it as she was. Something was wrong with that to be sure. Thorin was a private person and to have been intruded upon in such a way must have felt as humiliating to him as it had felt to her.

He looked up. ‘You proved to be very entertaining.’ Of course he chose to look at it in that way. Bloody dwarf.

Kate snorted. ‘Strange that you don’t say so when you’re on the receiving end.’ The banter made her realise that maybe this was not ideal, but it did distract her from her embarrassment and the burden of finding the side door, that was weighing them both down. Because she had become frustrated with the book and her own obvious uselessness. The clues were so vague, she could hardly do anything with them. When she had first read it in her role as an advisor, weeks before they had even reached Rivendell, it had seemed like a piece of cake. There were clear instructions and the door should be easy to find. What she hadn’t considered was that the Mountain was huge and the fact that the pillar-like stone in the book was not the only pillar-like stone on the southwest slope of the Lonely Mountain by far. It was a rocky area and there were rocks aplenty. Once again she realised how naïve she had been then.

She was rewarded with something that might pass for a smile with a little imagination. ‘You should eat something.’

Kate wrinkled her nose. ‘No, thanks,’ she replied. ‘I’m not hungry.’ And she wasn’t. In fact, she was nauseous because of the nerves. Despite her poor attempts at comforting Thorin, there was an enormous pressure on the company, and on the two of them especially, to find that side door before the sun went down. There was pressure on Thorin because this was his Mountain and he was the leader of the company. There was pressure on Kate because she was the one with the knowledge of the book and by all rights she should be able to interpret them. Balin had told her not to fret, having read the instructions – and only those; Kate guarded the book like a dragon guarded its plunder these days – for himself, saying that no one could expect to make much of such vague directions. Still, their inability to find the door felt like personal failure to her. She was supposed to be the bloody company advisor, but there was not much advising going on these past few weeks and it frustrated her more than she thought it should be doing. _Goes to show how much you’ve become involved in this whole mess, girl._

Thorin gave her an icy stare. ‘Eat.’

Kate arched an eyebrow in annoyance. ‘And what am I supposed to say to that? Yes, captain?’ He should have known by now that ordering her did not work. She could not even order herself into anything, never mind that someone else could do it.

Being in a relationship with the dwarf had not made him any less stubborn, not that Kate had expected it. ‘Eat. Keep your strength up.’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, giving in, accepting the food he offered her. ‘Have it your way. Just don’t think you’ll get away with mollycoddling me.’ Besides, she could pretend to eat something and then dump it with Ori when he wasn’t looking. There was always that possibility and that would at least get Thorin off her case, before he started nagging in a very Dori-like manner. Now that they were officially together, he tended to do that. It must be something about unable to control his inner gentleman or something, but Kate just found it annoying.

‘You would not let me,’ Thorin retorted.

Kate chuckled. ‘And a good thing that is too. You’d wrap me in cotton wool for the rest of my days.’

‘You are fragile,’ he pointed out.

‘But not made of glass,’ Kate countered. Something told her this was a discussion they were bound to have quite frequently in the future. Because there would be a future for them, Kate thought, provided they survived the coming months. The suggestion Dwalin had made on the first day of the search had slowly taken root in her mind. _Go home once, say goodbye and come back._

It wasn’t ideal, but then, this whole situation was less than ideal. Even if she went back to say goodbye, she would still miss her family. Of course she would miss them, but she had a lingering suspicion that if she left now, she would miss her new family more. An impossible choice to make, maybe, but one that needed to be made all the same.

And this might be the best possible solution she had, with things being as they were. Of course that was not without its own set of problems either. How on earth was she supposed to explain to her mother and brother that she was going to spend the rest of her life in Middle Earth, playing at being wife to the King under the Mountain? It sounded absurd even to her and she had the advantage of knowing that it was the truth. Her family might well believe that she had lost her mind and ship her off to the nearest mental asylum they could find. It was absurd, insane even. But it was also the truth. Life had a way of becoming very complicated indeed.

Thorin had noticed that she was thinking of other things. ‘What is on your mind?’ he questioned.

‘Just thinking about old homes and new homes,’ she answered cryptically. She had to discuss this with Thorin, sooner rather than later, but she liked a bit of time to work it all out in her own mind before she presented the idea to him. Besides, they had, at least for the time being, more urgent matters to be dealing with. She would do well to remember that. ‘Speaking of which, how about looking over the plans for today?’ The sun wasn’t up yet and the only light to see by was the light of the campfire, but that was enough to be getting on with for now.

Thorin left it at that. He knew she wasn’t lying to him, just not telling him everything. Well, Kate suspected him of occasionally being guilty of the exact same thing, so he wasn’t in the position to call her out on it. And she was right in one thing: they needed to pay attention to the matter of the altogether elusive side door. They had been searching what felt like the whole west side of the Mountain at least twice, venturing south as far as they dared, but being careful about doing so, because they did not want to come too close to the front gate, seeing as that was Smaug’s preferred exit.

This was a subject they could talk about. They had been talking about the quest for the entirety of the journey – albeit it had not always been in the most friendly of tones – and Kate felt comfortable with it, because it was so familiar. It didn’t take away the pressure of having to find the door before sundown, but it at least gave her the feeling that she was doing something and that was worth a great deal.

The others started waking and stumbled more than they walked over to the campfire, giving every impression of still being half asleep. Nori seemed to be the only one who was fully awake already. He even seemed remarkably cheerful for the time of day. The sun wasn’t even up yet. And normally Nori was the one who would all but commit a murder in order to sleep for five minutes longer.

‘You’re in a good mood,’ Kate observed as Bombur cooked up breakfast.

Nori smiled. ‘I’m a rich dwarf,’ he replied. ‘Reason enough to be in a very good mood.’

The advisor frowned at him. ‘Don’t you think that perhaps you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself?’ she inquired as she raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You do realise we still need to find the side door and kill a dragon of considerable size before you’re a rich dwarf?’ The tone of voice was somewhat snappish, but anything that could lighten the mood – especially Thorin’s – was more than welcome. Besides, there was nothing they could do yet, not before it was a bit lighter. They needed to pass the time anyway and by now Kate was dying for a change of atmosphere. There was only so much doom and gloom she could take.

Nori smiled widely at her. ‘There are more ways to make money, sister of mine,’ he informed her.

This piqued Dori’s interest. His eyebrows knit together as he subjected his brother to a scrutinising glance. Dori had a special talent for detecting trouble, especially when Nori was at the heart of it, and this didn’t even take an expert to realise that Nori may have done something he wasn’t supposed to do. ‘Are those legal ways?’ he inquired sternly.

Nori nodded. ‘Aye. Oi, Kíli, pay up. You lost!’

Kíli shook his head. ‘I didn’t see anything. You’re just trying to cheat.’

‘Oh, I saw something, all right,’ Nori said, equal parts amused and disgust. ‘Happened right in front of my very own face, just this morning.’

Kate hadn’t gotten where she was now by being a fool. There was only one thing that had happened in front of Nori’s face this very morning. ‘Betting about my private life again, are you?’ She directed the iciest stare she could manage – learned from the master himself – at her brother.

He eyed her warily. ‘You’re certain you’re not a blood relative?’ he checked. ‘I’m sure you look just like Dori.’

‘I rather doubt it,’ Kate said dismissively. ‘What was the bet about?’ She was a little surprised Thorin had not yet spoken up – after all he was a victim of this continued meddling too – but the explanation for that became clear when she saw him going over some maps with Balin and Dwalin. She was on her own in this.

‘Kíli bet that you wouldn’t kiss before we entered the Mountain,’ Nori explained. ‘I bet you would.’

Kate glared at him. ‘You bastard!’ There wasn’t any real malice in the insult though. The thing was that she had learned to expect this kind of behaviour from her brother. It didn’t mean she had to like it though.

Nori threw his hands up in the air. ‘It could be worse,’ he pointed out. ‘Fíli bet Thorin would sleep with you before Durin’s Day. I bet he wouldn’t. And since you haven’t done that and it’s Durin’s Day today, I’ve just made a lot of money.’ He looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

Kate could feel herself colour a bright crimson in embarrassment. Did Nori have no shame? Well, apparently he had, because he had seemed awfully uncomfortable when he had witnessed a simple kiss.

Part of Kate longed to shout at him at a volume that would surely wake the dragon, but another part, the part that she had started to label Catherine the Cunning, had a better plan in mind. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ she replied in as nonchalant a tone of voice as she could manage. ‘In fact, you might pass your winnings from your wager with Kíli straight on to Fíli.’

Now it was Nori’s turn to imitate a tomato. _Revenge is sweet_. ‘You… he… I mean… Did you…?’

‘Yep,’ Kate said happily.

Nori’s face, blank with absolute horror and shock, was well worth the lecture she had to endure from Dori afterwards.

 

***

 

It was both a relief and a disappointment to leave the camp to go on the search for what Thorin strongly suspected would be the last day of searching. It was a relief to get away from Dori’s endless lecturing about what one was and was not supposed to do when courting – what had Kate been thinking by blurting that out? – but it was a disappointment because as long as he was in camp he might fool himself into hoping that the day would yield some results. Those hopes all but vanished when he went on the actual search and had to face the reality that he may never find what he was looking for.

Whatever way this search went, today was Durin’s Day and they would either find the door or they wouldn’t. In the Ered Luin his people would be celebrating the start of the new year now. The celebrations were not as grand and excessive as they had been in Erebor, but they had to make do with what they had. They would toast ‘Next year in Erebor,’ as they did every year. It had always been his wish, but he would have to admit that over the past decades his hopes of that ever coming true had started to fade. The longer he lived in the Ered Luin, the more he came to realise that Erebor may not be reclaimed during his life. It may not ever be reclaimed. They were a long way from the heroic tales of the First Age after all. It wasn’t until Gandalf came along that the flame of hope had been rekindled.

And now he found himself closer to his home than he had been in more than a century and a half and strangely enough he had never felt so far from achieving his goal as he felt now. If they could not find the door, then how was he to reclaim the land of his ancestors? Even if he did find the door, there was still a dragon to be fought, still the lure of a dragon’s gold to contend with. The obstacles thrown in his way suddenly seemed higher than the Mountain itself.

‘You’re quiet, laddie,’ Balin his search partner for the day remarked. After having put up with the hobbit for two days, Thorin had gone to Dwalin and more or less demanded that he’d be working with someone else for the duration of the search. It was obvious that Master Baggins was scared of him after reading the book. Reassurances, such as they were, on Thorin’s part had done nothing to make him  forget about his fears. The hobbit’s reassurances in turn had done nothing to lessen Thorin’s own concerns. Dwalin had caved in and had made the hobbit and Balin change teams, which left the hobbit to work with Nori. He might even learn something from him. ‘Are you worried that we will not find the door?’

That was hardly a difficult conclusion, Thorin thought wryly. What else should he worry for if not the future of his people? Because this was not about confronting his own fears. It had always been so much more than that. It was his duty as a king to restore his kingdom for his people and anything less would never do. Maybe he would not have experienced that pressure if he had been content to live out his days in the Ered Luin as a blacksmith, but once he had decided to go on this quest, the hopes and wishes of his people had come down on his shoulders. No matter how small the chance, they still hoped. He owed it to them to succeed.

‘Aye,’ he confessed, not ashamed to admit this to the dwarf who always seemed to be looking right through him anyway. Whatever happened, Balin seemed to know exactly what was going on inside Thorin’s head before he even knew it himself. Today was no exception.

The sun seemed to be racing across the sky. The days were growing ever shorter, there was less light each passing day and it would be only few short hours until the sun would disappear behind the horizon, taking their hopes with it.

‘We will see it done,’ Balin reminded him, like he had done that night in Bag End, when he had been so filled with determination to do whatever it took to reclaim the land that had been so cruelly taken from them the day Smaug had invaded Erebor. ‘Even if we do not find the secret door. There _has_ to be another way.’

He sounded like Kate, only when Balin spoke the words, they rang with certainty. Kate’s had been laced with doubts, as if she could see no way for them to get inside the kingdom without the door. Balin on the other hand was determined about this and, unlike his king, he was not being held back by doubts that were assaulting his mind. He usually was the very image of quiet dignity, a diplomatic dwarf through and through, but he was a warrior too and he had not forgotten the wrongs done to their people. He may not always look like he did, but Thorin knew how to look.

Still, it was Balin who had pointed out that they had a life worth living in the Ered Luin. And to a certain extent he had been true. They were making a living. There was food on the table and money in their pocket. There was relative peace in their lands. Orcs tried to raid their villages every now and then, but they were driven back and the losses were few, nothing compared to the slaughter at Azanulbizar. They had done well for themselves.

But it was no Erebor. The thought always wriggled its way into the dwarf’s head whenever he was in danger of letting himself forget that he was not home in the Ered Luin, that he would never call that place a home. When he was truly home, he would not be looked down upon, he would not have to be content with dwellings that had nothing of the splendour of Erebor. He remembered what it had been like once and he found himself incapable of ever ceasing to compare the Ered Luin to the Mountain. That spoiled every thought of contentment for him.

And there was a vengeance to be thought of, passed down to him from his grandfather and father. With the key to Erebor in his possession, he could not turn anywhere but east. There was no choice. What he wanted was not important. His kingdom, his people were. And if he was really honest with himself, it was something of a comfort to know that he was doing what Thrór and Thráin would have wanted him to do.

‘Kate says the same,’ he admitted.

Balin nodded. ‘She is a good woman.’

‘I doubt you would have made such an effort to get us together if that was not your belief,’ Thorin commented wryly. It did make him wonder though. Balin had seen Kate’s merits from the start, had been kind to her even when she was still behaving like a little girl throwing an irrational temper tantrum. It was only in hindsight that Thorin could understand her actions, but Balin was different. ‘What did you see in her?’ he asked. ‘In Bag End, when I did not see it?’

‘I looked behind the mask,’ the elderly dwarf said. ‘Miss Andrews has a strong mind. And she has never been frightened of you.’

He was right on that account, although Mahal help him if he ever understood why. There had been situations when he had come this close to striking her down where she stood because of her words and actions – and even now he believed he had been completely justified in feeling those urges; he was not the only one who had behaved in an appalling manner in those days – and yet she had never looked scared. Angry, aye, that he had seen plenty of. But there had never been a trace of fear, not in her dealings with him. He never thought this remarkable before. If he applied that word to their situation at all, it would be to mark it as remarkably annoying.

‘That is true,’ he amended. Kate Andrews, scared of him? The thought was ridiculous in and out of itself. And maybe it was a good thing too. _Thorin is a very stubborn dwarf. He needs someone to make him see sense every now and then, someone he cannot ignore too easily. And I’m afraid I needed someone who would not be too much in awe of his reputation to tell him the truth._ That was what Gandalf had said. And Kate fit that description easily. Although, Thorin thought, if he wanted someone who was not in awe of Thorin, he could simply have enlisted Dís and her no-nonsense approach.

‘It will work out, Thorin,’ Balin said reassuringly. Thorin, who didn’t know if he meant the quest or his relationship with Kate, simply forced his face into a smile and kept his silence.

The morning passed too quickly for his liking. The sun was at its highest and would soon go down again. If he had been on his own, he would have pressed on without a rest, utilising as many hours as he could. But he was not on his own. He had Balin with him and he had recently been very ill, a fact Thorin was not likely to forget anytime soon. He could not remember being so scared in many long years. Not even when he had faced down Azog had he felt the cold hand of fear squeezing his heart until he feared he could not breathe anymore. The thought of losing his oldest friend had suddenly been very real and very likely. It was not a feeling he would ever want to experience anytime soon again. He had lost too many people in his life without adding another to the list.

‘We need to rest,’ he announced.

Balin gave him a pointed look. ‘You mean that I need to rest.’

There was no point in denying it. ‘Aye.’

‘There’s life in me still,’ the elderly dwarf reminded him, simply walking on.

Thorin remembered that his friend had said more or less the same when Dwalin had all but carried him up the stairs in the house in Esgaroth. ‘And I’d like there to be for many years to come,’ he replied.

‘The sooner we will find a dry place in the Mountain, the more likely that is to be,’ Balin nodded.

Thorin really should have known better than to try and win a battle of words with him. It was one thing Balin had in common with Kate; they both had a way with words and when the mood caught them, there was no reasoning with them. Kate may occasionally give the impression of giving in to his demands, like she had done this morning, but it had not escaped the dwarf king’s notice that she had given her breakfast to Ori when she thought he wasn’t looking. And how was he ever to look after them properly when they insisted on undermining him so?

‘Balin…’ he said wearily.

Balin simply ignored them, even when Thorin went as far as to repeat himself, something he wasn’t used to doing at all. He was usually obeyed the first time he gave a command. His family and Kate were the only ones to ever completely disregard what he was saying and do whatever they wanted regardless of his wishes. Well, Balin was distant kin, after all. He should have expected nothing different.

It didn’t mean he had to agree with it, though and so he called again.

Only then it became apparent that Thorin had been wrongfully assuming that Balin was deliberately ignoring him. ‘Look at this, laddie!’ his friend called, pointing at something behind a large piece of upstanding rock, something Thorin could not see from the place he was standing.

There was no real harm in obliging him and so Thorin did as he was asked, walking over to where Balin was standing. The sooner he’d seen what his friend saw, and he’d be done with it. It was not that he was so intent on resting himself – the thought of having to locate the entrance before the sun set was more than enough to keep him going until his mission had been completed – but he had a duty to his people first and foremost. Consequently that meant that he put Balin’s needs before his own, no matter how much his friend tried to convince him that he could go on.

But Balin’s needs were taking a backseat when he realised just what it was that his old friend had found. Steps. They were rough and eaten away by the weather and the ages, but they were steps all the same. By now Thorin had read and reread that part of Kate’s book so often that he could quote it in his sleep. This was what they had been looking for all along. These were the stairs he had been looking for so relentlessly for more than two weeks now. He could have wept with relief at the sight of them. They had found it. When he had been close to giving up all hope, they had found what they were looking for. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

‘This is it,’ he said. It was quite unnecessary to state that; Balin had read this part of the book for himself. He would know this without his king having to point it out to him. But saying the words felt good. It was as if only saying it out loud made their discovery official.

‘After you, Thorin,’ Balin said, inviting him to take the lead in this. There was a knowing look on his face and Thorin guessed that it meant that Balin knew full well that there would be no rest for them, not now they had found this path. He could not bear to give up now and his friend knew that full well.

And there was no use protesting it. The book told him that it would be quite a way to go from here and the light would be fading soon enough. If he wanted to be at the side door before the last light faded, then they would need to make haste. And there was no time to alert any of the others either. According to the book they had found the door days before Durin’s Day was upon them. They did not have that luxury now. It was either now or never. And that was no choice at all, not now he had come so close. When he had no idea where to look he might have given up, insisted on resting before they went on. But now they had found the door and now there was no question of resting.

The steps led to a path that was hardly visible anymore. It was as Kate’s book had said and they were climbing all the while. Thorin did not have any particular trouble with the altitude or the climb itself. Mahal had made his children to endure and he would not soon get out of air. And if Balin was in any way bothered by the road, then he did not show it. There was a very determined dwarf under the calm façade of the advisor to the king. Balin may not seem as tough as his brother and his friendly face usually only served to strengthen that view, but appearances could be deceiving and Balin’s certainly was. He was stronger than he was given credit for.

The path eventually led them to a narrow ledge that led north, which cemented the idea that this was truly the path which _The Hobbit_ had mentioned. Once again Thorin found himself in awe of just how true the book was from time to time. Yes, it frightened him too more often than not, but he could not deny that without the book’s instructions, he may not have tried this path at all, he may not even have known what he was looking for.

He wondered about the man who had written it all. The author’s name, as was written on the book’s cover, was J.R.R. Tolkien, which was a strange name for anyone to have in Thorin’s opinion. Why, it sounded almost elvish, he supposed. Kate had informed him that he had written the book decades before she was even born, so how could he have possibly have known about this quest? He was from another world and even if he had somehow had knowledge of the existence of Middle Earth, how could he possibly have known what would happen in this world’s future? How could he know the names of the company, how could he predict troubles that would befall them so accurately? He had posed this question to Kate, who merely shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she’d said, smiling wryly. ‘It’s a mystery to me as well. We may never know. Contrary to what the people in my world think, this is not a story and in real life we do sadly not always get all the answers.’

And that had been the end of their discussion. Admittedly it was something that needed to be thought about some other time. The ledge he was walking on was as narrow as the book had predicted and stiff dwarven neck or not, he would break it and die if he were to fall. He needed his attention focused on making it over this ledge and onto the plateau that he could now see ahead of him. Balin was still walking behind him. Thorin could not safely look back, but he knew his friend was doing well. His footsteps were strong and steady, even after a climb that had gone on for several hours.

The light was failing rapidly. Thorin felt like he was trying to race the sun and maybe that was the truth of it. If he had dawdled before or, Mahal forbid, insisted on resting, then they might never make it in time. They were late enough as it was. The setting sun was already touching the tops of the trees of Mirkwood. Soon they would lose the light entirely.

But he was in time. Yes, the sun was setting, but there was still light when they stepped foot on the grass that marked the bay. It was a cave without a roof, Thorin observed, but there was grass and it felt altogether peaceful, the way the entire Mountain had been before the dragon had come. It was bathing in the last light of the sun, but would otherwise not get too much light.

In his youth he had never stumbled upon this place and he had done his fair share of exploring. But this was a new place to him. The secret door truly had been a secret to him. But even if he had found this place years ago, he would not have thought of it as a door, just as a piece of unusually smooth rock. It was a dwarf door, after all, invisible when closed. It was only because he knew this was the side door that he thought of it in that way.

Balin and Thorin were not the first to arrive, Thorin noticed when he looked around. On a grey stone nearby sat a large thrush. It looked at them when it heard them approach, but it soon lost interest in them again. It had more important things on its mind than unexpected visitors, like picking up a snail and beating it against the stone, loudly and repeatedly.

And Thorin froze into place as the words from the map came rushing back to him. ‘Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole,’ he breathed. He’d taken Kate for a fool when she said that this was literally what the map said, but now he had to eat his words. She had spoken the truth all along. He could almost hear her triumphant ‘I told you so.’ For once, he found, he did not care.

‘We made it, laddie.’ Balin wasn’t given to smugness, but if this wasn’t smug, then he was at least very pleased with himself. And he should be. He had been the one to find the stairs that led them here after all.

They had no need to wait long until the last light of day touched the door, but to the dwarf king, who held the key in his hand so tightly that if it had been a weaker key it would have snapped in half from the sheer force of it, it felt like hours. And part of him feared that even though the book predicted that the keyhole would be visible, it would not show in reality. It had been wrong more than once after all.

He worried for naught, it turned out. The sun had all but disappeared when one last ray of light touched the door and a soft crack was the result. A bit of stone disappeared and Thorin found himself looking at a keyhole. The book had spoken true.

‘Now, Thorin!’ Balin urged. Excitement was obvious in his voice.

The dwarf king didn’t need telling twice. He took the key and stuck it in the keyhole. He did not know why he was so afraid that it would fail to turn once he’d done that, but it did turn, rendering his worries unnecessary. ‘Help me push,’ he commanded.

Balin obeyed. ‘There we go, lad,’ he announced.

Thorin did not bother with a reply. He merely sent all his strength to his arms and pushed with all his might. He’d spent years working as a blacksmith, had even pushed ponies off cliffs, but at first it seemed that the door would not budge nonetheless. But he had come this far and he would not now give up. He had come too close for that.

When it did give way, it came almost unexpectedly. There was a sound of rock scraping over rock and then the door swung open, making the king and his friend almost fall inside when the rock resisted them no longer all of a sudden.

He stepped back and took a moment to catch his breath, looking in slight disbelief at the opening in the wall. He had done it. He had taken the first step towards reclaiming his homeland and now that he did it, he could hardly believe it. The odds had always been against his quest, but here he stood, at the doorstep, looking at the open door that led straight into his kingdom. Threat of dragon and gold lust were temporarily forgotten as Thorin Oakenshield finally allowed himself to believe that maybe he stood a chance after all.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _We found the door, Mahal be praised._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the extra chapter and with it I hope I am keeping up the hobbit tradition of giving gifts on one’s birthday well enough. It seems appropriate, given the fact that this story is in the Hobbit fandom. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Next time: Kate does a good job of worrying and Nori is not exactly making things easier on her, and on himself.  
> Until then, please review?


	64. Concern

_And this is how the door was found, my dears, in the nick of time and with an awful lot of effort on the company’s part. I think I may say that we were lucky indeed that it were Thorin and Balin who ventured in that direction, because if it had been Nori for instance, he might have found the door just fine, but he would not have the key to go with it. When I pointed this out to him later, he commented that he would just have stuffed whatever it was that he happened to have in his pockets at the time – which had a fifty-fifty chance of being something that actually belonged to him – into the keyhole to stop it from closing. That, my dears, is Nori’s logic for you._

_But the door was found. The thing was that the rest of the company did not know this. When the sun went down we all returned to camp, moody and disappointed that we had seemingly wasted the last opportunity we were likely to get without any result to show for it. The mood was gloomy and subdued. Everyone had the feeling that we had failed and we didn’t really know what we were to do now that Durin’s Day had passed. I knew it was the dwarvish New Year, but the mood could not have been less celebratory if we tried. The failure weighed heavily upon all of us._

_At first we assumed that Thorin and Balin were merely late. It happened sometimes that one team only returned after dark, because they had not turned back in time to make it before the last light faded. It was nothing new and nothing alarming. We might have worried more if there were more dangers in the area, but as it was there were neither orcs nor wild, starving animals and we did not worry as we cooked and ate supper, setting aside something for the latecomers._

_It was only after dinner that I started to feel uncomfortable. Being far off or not, they should have been back hours ago. And without having any of the modern equipment available to find out where Thorin and Balin had gone off to, there was no telling where they were or what had happened to them. The could be anywhere and the longer their absence lasted, the more uneasy and frightened I became. They could have fallen off a cliff and broken their necks after the fall, they could be trapped somewhere, injured, dying… I was trying my hardest not to think of worst case scenarios, but that was a fight I was doomed to lose. In fact, I had trouble thinking about anything else._

_But the light had all gone and since clouds had come in after sundown, it was a dark night, without any light from stars or moon. To start searching now would be folly and, in this treacherous terrain, most likely suicide. We would have to wait until first light before we would be able to do anything._

_I hate waiting. It has always been one of my greatest vices, right after my endless curiosity. Yet it seems to be my lot in life to wait and to wait a lot. I all too clearly remember your first campaign several years ago, Thoren, when orcs were ransacking the area as they went and we made an alliance with the men of Dale to chase them out before things could get out of hand. Thorin reasoned that you were quite old enough to accompany him, as well you should as his heir, and so you both left and I had to stay behind. Don’t worry, I had no ambition to go anywhere near the battlefield myself – despite years of training I doubt I will ever truly master the sword – but it is the waiting that is killing. It is the not knowing that is the very worst of all. Thráin and Duria will probably tell you I wore a hole in the hearth rug with all my pacing._

_There was no hearth rug to wear a hole in then and neither would my pacing be appreciated by my companions. Besides, I was not the only one worrying. It was just that not everyone put it on display the way I did. Well, let me just say that it was a very long night…_

 

If Kate would actually have had the room to toss and turn in her bedroll, she would have done so, to be sure. She was too restless to lie quietly. Her mind was racing out of control, all too quick to remind her just what could have happened to Thorin and Balin during their search. Of course, Thorin knew these slopes, knew every rock and crevice like the back of his hand probably. The most likely thing to have happened was that they had gone off too far, driven by the need to find the door before the light faded completely, utilising every hour they had to find it. Had they done so, which would not be too unlikely considering that Thorin had been one of the people on the team, they might have lost the light before they got back and consequently they would be camping somewhere, to return to the rest of the group at dawn.

Unfortunately this was not the only thing that could have happened and Kate knew it well. Without having a way to know what had happened, her imagination was spinning wildly out of control, only too quick to remind her just what could have gone wrong. And that was not pretty, not pretty at all. Thorin and Balin could be dead for all she knew. The very thought of such a horrible thing happening made her stomach turn, her heart beat too fast and her lungs clench until she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe ever again. They had only just sorted out their relationship, more or less. Would the end really come that soon already for them?

Whenever she was worrying it translated into physical movement. Some people just froze into place whenever they were anxious, but Kate was not one of them. She moved, whether it was pacing or fidgeting and with her lying sandwiched between Nori and Ori, it had to be the latter. Ori had already fallen asleep, tired after a long day. His soft snores were all the confirmation she needed. He lay curled up against her right side like a kitten, like he would eventually always end up in sleep. Kate thought it endearing. Nori, on her left side, was still awake however and the company advisor knew that it was entirely her fault. She was keeping him awake with her restless movements.

‘Will you just lie still?’ he muttered. ‘You’re squirming worse than a pig that knows it’s going to be slaughtered and some people would like to sleep here.’

Kate’s temper was already rather short, as it tended to be in situations as these and all it really had been waiting for was a decent excuse to explode. Nori provided it. ‘Well, I’d like to see you sleeping while your loved one might be either dead or in danger,’ she hissed in a furious whisper. ‘We’ll see how much rest you’ll be able to get then!’ Nori was a good brother, she supposed, and when there was danger he would be on her side, but that certainly didn’t mean she could get along with him the rest of the time. To be honest, Nori was something of a scoundrel, always up to something, and most of the things he got up to were not quite that legal and usually involved other’s people’s possessions. And he had all the tact of an elephant stamping around on the china, and that was unlikely to endear Kate to him at this time.

‘No need to get your dander up,’ Nori said for the second time that day. ‘I meant nothing by it. Like as not he’s just making himself comfortable around a fire with Balin up the Mountain. He wouldn’t want you to worry.’

Like as not he had the right of it, but Kate found she was in no mood to be reasonable, not while she was worried sick – and that could be taken quite literally in this case. Nori may be right, but as long as there was a small chance that things were not all right, Kate found that she could not rest easy. ‘So you know his mind now, do you?’ she shot back.

‘Where you’re concerned, I think we all do,’ he replied cheekily. ‘Can you now please go and get some sleep? You’re not cold, are you? I know I’m not Thorin, but I could keep you warm easy enough.’

‘By stealing all my blankets like you did three nights ago, I suppose?’ Kate countered sarcastically. ‘I’m not cold anyway.’ She wasn’t, not with Ori on her other side. And while she appreciated Nori’s offer – she was sure he meant well – he just wasn’t Thorin and she had grown used to sleeping in his arms. Nori, well, he couldn’t be more different from the king even if he tried. He was far more talkative, to begin with, and didn’t quite seem to grasp the concept of shutting up when he was told to. Now there was not much of a surprise, but it was annoying.

‘I was just offering.’ Kate could feel her brother shrug in the dark. ‘I could just try to snore a bit less loud and rumble more to resemble Thorin better, if you wish. Just forgive me if I don’t kiss you. Ouch!’

Kate had been about to whack him over the head herself, but she found she didn’t need to, given the fact that Dori had already taken care of it for her. And he could slap a lot harder than the company advisor ever could, which made his course of action perfectly acceptable in her eyes.

‘You do not insult your sister and your future brother-in-law in that way!’ he scolded. ‘Apologise immediately!’ In the dark Dori was as good as invisible, but Kate didn’t need to see his face to get the picture. Dori had been less than amused to learn just how far Thorin and she had taken their relationship and it had been a relief to get out of camp to escape his lecturing. Dwalin at least could do silence, even if he probably did not approve either. Dwarf moralists and all that crap. She wasn’t home anymore and what she had done was most likely frowned upon. Even now Kate could not really say what had brought that on, but the looming threat of death over their heads was as likely to have anything to do with it as not.

‘I didn’t do anything!’ Nori protested indignantly.

‘I dread to think of the day when you set your eye on a girl,’ Kate muttered.

‘I won’t ever marry,’ Nori said immediately. ‘I am wedded to my craft.’ Kate knew that it was the way of it with a lot of dwarves. Some simply loved their crafts more than they liked the idea of love and a family. Nori was one such a dwarf.

His response triggered a dismissive snort from Dori, though. ‘What craft? You don’t even have a craft!’

‘I do,’ Nori said.

‘Thieving is not a craft,’ Dori hissed. ‘It is against the law and you know it. You should take up an honourable occupation.’

‘I’d die of boredom before the year is out.’

‘So what do you think you will be doing once the Mountain is retaken, eh?’

‘We need to retake it first,’ Nori pointed out.

Dori carried on as if Nori had not spoken at all. ‘Would you go around breaking the law then, when the king’s rewarded you for your services?’ He sounded horrified at the prospect.

‘Maybe I will.’ Nori was certainly in the process of deliberately angering Dori and Kate had no ambition to get caught up in the fallout. Being their sister for over a few months had taught her that apparently being well over a century old had no effect whatsoever on their childish sibling rivalry. The second valuable lesson she had learned was that she would do well to stay out of these arguments. Now Kate would deny that Dori was bossier than she had believed possible, but Nori took pleasure in provoking him and he did get into an awful lot of trouble. There was no way that anyone could possibly deny that.

Her patience with it all had run out however. This was shaping up to be a fight of legendary proportions, that was pointless as well as legendary if she read the situation right. The sooner she got out, the better it would be, preferably before one of them called on her to take sides. And she had no ambition of doing that.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she muttered. Dori and Nori however were so caught up in their fight that Kate would have been surprised if they had actually heard her. If they did so, they didn’t say it. So she took her cloak, wrapped it around her and got up without waking Ori in the process. He muttered something unintelligible in his sleep when he had his pillow taken away from him, but did not wake.

Behind her the argument was still building up and the company advisor was glad to be out of there. She could easily blame the lack of success in the search for the frayed nerves and short tempers, but she had more than enough of that herself without being dosed with an additional portion by her brothers who were most definitely not acting their age right now. Heaven knew she was quick to blame their failure to locate the door on her presence and her inability to read the instructions right. She was all too aware of that. And now Thorin was missing. That was the one thing that made her stomach do somersaults and made her want to throw up dinner in the nearest half-dead bush she could find. What if he was dead? Anything could have happened to him and she wouldn’t even know. Never mind that it would render everything the book said completely meaningless, Kate didn’t know what she personally would do if the worst should happen. It drove the matter of the elusive door straight from her mind. Besides, there would not even be a quest without Thorin, so what good would it do to think about it anyway?

She settled down near the fire. It turned out that she wasn’t the only one who found that sleep eluded her. Bofur and Dwalin both sat near the fire as well, the former smoking and the latter cleaning his axe. Neither of them were talking and Kate didn’t feel the need to break the silence.

Unfortunately not everyone agreed with that. ‘You should get some sleep, lass,’ Dwalin said.

‘Can’t,’ she replied curtly, not feeling the urge to elaborate on the exact reasons why she would find it impossible to get a bit of decent rest tonight. ‘They’re at it again.’

Bofur chuckled, but it didn’t sound quite sincere. ‘Aye, I’ll wager they’ll hear this ruckus all the way in the Iron Hills.’

‘Couldn’t even hear myself think over all the noise,’ Kate nodded. ‘They’ll be keeping this up for a while yet. Go on ahead and get some sleep. I won’t be getting any anytime soon and you’ll need only one to keep watch.’

Bofur gave her a nod and a sympathetic look to go with it. He knew exactly how she was feeling, but he was not the kind of person to insist that they tell him what was wrong. If she wanted to talk to him, she knew he would listen and give her advice, should she want it. At the moment Kate merely wanted to scream her frustration to the skies, but that would not solve her problems and her companions might not appreciate it either.

‘Night then,’ Bofur said.

‘Sweet dreams,’ Kate muttered. She picked up a branch and added it to the fire. ‘You might as well take some rest as well,’ she told Dwalin. ‘I’ll stay awake.’

This was the first time he actually looked at her since she had sat down. ‘I’m not tired.’

Kate shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

They spent a while in silence, well, except with the background music made up of her brothers’ continued arguing and the snores of the rest of the company. Kate found that sitting by the fire did not make her a tiny bit less restless. She had taken a book with her for reading, but she found that the letters blurred before her and she could not remember what she had read if she tried to, despite the fact that she knew the story well. Her mind kept producing horrifying images of what could have happened and the harder she tried to push them away, the more they crept to the foreground.

Eventually she stood up. ‘I’m going to take a look at the ponies,’ she announced. It was better than doing nothing and at least it made her feel like she was doing something useful. Idleness suited her ill, she found. She wanted to do something, anything at all. Waiting was worse than anything in the world.

She feared for them, feared for them both. Yes, she was seriously annoyed with Balin for sticking his nose in affairs that really were none of his business, but she had to admit that he had done them a great service. Without him Thorin and she might have never spoken out at all. And as much as she feared to be left a widow – she inwardly cringed at the word – before she was even married, she would never have wanted to miss out on what they’d had, no matter how short it may have been. It was better than to be left with nothing at all.

She petted the ponies and stopped to rearrange the blanket of her own mount, Poppy. Thorin had told her it was foolishness to name a pony that was not hers to keep not a week ago. Kate had merely shrugged. She liked the animal. Thorin had grumbled that, if that was the case, she might as well name all the ponies, upon which Kate had promptly baptised Thorin’s own steed Grumpy. His face when he heard that and even more so when she told him the origins of the name, had been priceless, enough to get her through another day of fruitless searching. It felt like a lifetime ago.

‘There you go, girl,’ she muttered to the beast as she put the blanket right. ‘That’s better, eh?’ The pony snuffed her pockets in search for food and Kate let out a humourless chuckle. ‘Nothing more important on _your_ mind than food, isn’t that right, Poppy? You know, I might even envy you for that. Nothing more to worry about than eating, sleeping and making eyes at Grumpy over there. I’d debate your taste in men, but I doubt you’d listen to me anyway, so why bother?’ 

 _Andrews, you’ve officially lost it. Talking to a pony now, are you?_ Kate ignored the voice in the back of her head and carried on regardless, because really it felt good to blow off steam without being reprimanded for being selfish, foolish, spoiled or a combination thereof. And at least a pony wouldn’t disagree with her.

She stroked the pony absent-mindedly while Poppy snuffed her coat in search of something to fill her stomach with. ‘Your life is simple. You don’t have to worry a thing about never seeing your loved ones again, imagining all the things that could have happened to them, hoping that they’ll be fine…’ She trailed off. ‘Wish that my life was as simple as yours, but no, no such luck for me, it would seem.’

‘They’ll be fine, lass,’ a voice behind her said.

Kate swivelled around to find Dwalin standing there. ‘You startled me,’ she grumbled in a very Thorin-like manner. ‘And you can’t know that, so stop trying to comfort me with empty promises. They won’t work.’

‘I’ve been told they usually work on the womenfolk,’ he informed her.

‘And you have how many women in your acquaintance exactly?’ Kate wondered. When there was no answer forthcoming, she snorted. ‘Thought so.’ She was in no mood to have a conversation with Dwalin of all people. They may have spent weeks scouring the western slopes of the Mountain together, but they hadn’t gotten any further than a truce thus far and conversations with Thorin’s closest friend felt forced and wooden. It was hardly a state secret that even though she had passed muster, he still did not like her. That would take time, a lot more time. Kate wasn’t bothered. It wasn’t as if she was extremely fond of Dwalin. But he was close to Thorin, which made sure that she would have to deal with him.

‘You do care for him, don’t you?’ Dwalin asked. All of a sudden he seemed to be in a rather talkative mood. Kate wasn’t.

‘I’d hardly be worried sick for him if I didn’t now, would I?’ she snapped, wishing he’d just leave her alone. Oh, she hadn’t forgotten that it were Dwalin’s friend and brother that were missing, but she wasn’t particularly keen to discuss it. She was doing worrying just fine on her own. ‘Why else would I be with him if I did not care for him anyway?’ It seemed a silly question to ask anyway.

‘He is a king,’ Dwalin pointed out.

Kate sent him a glower. ‘Do I look like the kind of woman who flings herself at royalty to better her own position to you?’ she demanded. She did not give him the chance to answer – she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say for fear it was something she did not want to hear – and went on without stopping to breathe. ‘It’s always good to know you’ve made an impression on someone.’ Sarcasm was too obvious to miss. ‘Now, can you kindly bugger off and bother somebody else? In case it had escaped your notice, I’m not feeling like doing company tonight. At least not of the kind that actually talks back,’ she added with a look at the pony, that had lost interest in her pockets and had turned its attention to the grass at her feet.

But Dwalin was protected from her scathing put-downs by a skull that was as thick as the walls of Erebor to be sure, because he didn’t budge an inch. ‘I was wrong about you.’

It was quite something to hear Dwalin, son of Fundin, admit that he had actually made a mistake, but Kate was not in the right mood to appreciate it. ‘Was that it?’ she asked impatiently.

Now she had gotten right under his skin, as she had known she would eventually. She had just expected it to have happened sooner. ‘You’re hurting,’ he observed. ‘But right now you sound like a spoiled little girl and not like a queen.’

This observation was all the more vexing because it was true. She rounded on him. ‘I’m not even a queen yet. I might never be. Stop telling me that I am.’

Dwalin however was not the kind of dwarf to back off after a few harsh words and an angry look that by all rights should have made him drop dead on the spot. Dwarvish stubbornness be damned indeed. ‘You are,’ he said forcefully, grasping Kate’s shoulders when she tried to make a run for it. According to Balin, that was what she was good at anyway. ‘You may not have exchanged vows with him, but he slept with you, didn’t he?’

Despite the serious situation she felt her cheeks flush at hearing something so intimate being discussed so casually. ‘You know he did.’ And she’d rather, much rather not discuss this with anyone, Dwalin least of all. How she regretted admitting to it only that morning. Nori’s face had been very amusing and it had been nice to get him back for commenting on her kissing Thorin earlier, but she was starting to think that the consequences of the confession were not worth it at all.

‘You’re his wife in all but name and we all know it. I may not like it and I may not understand why he chose you of all people, but that’s the truth of it.’ He was shaking her as if she was a disobedient and particular stupid child. And maybe that was how he really saw her. He’d never been fond of her and he had even said as much, while recognising in the same breath that this was something he could not change. At first glance she had judged Dwalin a straightforward kind of person. The longer she knew him, the more she came to see that this assessment of him could not have been more wrong. He was a riddle wrapped up in a mystery. ‘In his absence, they will look to you. You’re his advisor as well as his future wife. You’re going to be a queen, so start acting like one.’

His words hit home, even if she still didn’t like them, or the one who spoke them. They were true. She’d lost all right to behave like the victim when she had sworn to make this quest her own. Thorin may be missing, but that did not give her the right to go to pieces. And strangely enough it helped to have a goal. It helped her to push through the feeling of helplessness that clung to her like a cloak. She actually had a responsibility towards the company and she should take it up.

‘Very well,’ she said, trying – and possibly failing – to copy Thorin’s best commander tone of voice. ‘Then I think we should be making some plans before the morning arrives. Do you know in which direction they ventured?’

Dwalin didn’t say he approved of her actions – she doubted he ever would – but he gave a curt nod and that had to be enough to be getting on with. Friends they might never be, but allies they could do, at least until this crisis was done. ‘I do,’ he admitted. ‘We’ll look for traces as soon as there’s light to see by.’

Now it was Kate who nodded. ‘Very well,’ she repeated. ‘Let’s look into our options.’ She turned her back on the uninterested pony and walked back to camp.

 

***

 

By the time they had found and opened the door, the last light of day had all but faded. It would be foolish to try and go back the entire way to camp now. It was true that dwarves could see well in the darkness, but even they would know better than to go back the entire way in complete darkness, especially when the path led over a ledge as narrow as the one they had come over. It would be suicidal.

‘They’ll know we’ll be back in the morning,’ Balin said. He did not sound too concerned and maybe that was the way to go about this.

The idea of staying here did not have much allure either though. They had no means to start a fire and they had no blankets with them either. The only things they had brought were food and weapons and neither were going to keep them warm tonight. They had a bit of luck left though. The grassy plateau before the door was surrounded by high rock walls, with only one opening facing west. The wind blew past their shelter and made the cold feel a little less cold. The others down at camp would have an icy night ahead of them though. They were infinitely more exposed than Balin and he were. His cloak should suffice to keep the worst cold away.

Balin went to sleep after the poor excuse for a meal. He had the gift of laying down his head and falling asleep anywhere. Thorin didn’t doubt he would not have had a problem with sleeping in an elvish palace or an orcs’ lair either. It was a gift Thorin now envied.

Lately he found that sleep eluded him. He could reason well enough what caused the insomnia, but it did nothing to cure him of it. There were so many things to think about, to worry about. The door opened up possibilities, but also made his fears increase in tenfold. He was planning to take on the dragon by himself, instead of leaving the monster for the people of Esgaroth to deal with. But it meant he risked the lives of his own men, and that was something he was loath to do. But they had all signed the contract and none would even let him go in there alone. He knew them well enough to know. Some of them might even be offended that he was planning to leave them out of it.

He stared out over the valley below. A fire was burning and he could see movement there, even if he could not see who was that was sitting by the fire. He was too far away and he was sure that they in turn could not see him standing here.

Thorin wondered about the mood in the camp. There must be disappointment that another day had gone by without any visible result. They must be wondering if Balin and Thorin had found something and if that was the reason why they were not back yet. But he couldn’t know and so his mind went round in circles. He almost missed Kate’s chagrined voice telling him to bloody well lie still and sleep some so that she could get some rest as well.

The dwarf found he was awake for most of the night. Even though he knew that Smaug could not fit through the door, he was careful not to turn his back on the opening. There was something altogether unnerving about that black hole. The book had the right of that to be sure. It had the right of it for far too many times already.

And it was wrong in the moments that Thorin wished it to be right. The book had not predicted Bifur’s death and he knew that his cousins had been devastated by it. Bifur may be stuck with an axe in his head, but that didn’t mean he had lost all his wits along with his ability to speak the Common Tongue. And he had been a kind soul, one of the kindest Thorin had ever encountered. His death had been unexpected. The book had made no mention of Azog either and that was a frightening development too. Sometimes it felt to the dwarf king like everything was made worse in reality.

He was still pondering when the first light finally turned the skies a lighter shade of blue and then grey, because the clouds were still hanging above them, making the area of the Mountain look even more desolate than it already was with the sun shining on it. _One day soon, trees will grow here again_ , he promised himself.

Balin woke when the first rays of sunlight touched the land below them. It would be a long while still before the sun found its way into their shelter on the doorstep, but he hoped to have the rest of his company with him before then.

‘Morning, laddie,’ Balin muttered as he stretched. ‘Did you get any sleep at all?’ Thorin’s mother was long dead, but Balin in this moment looked just like her with that look that was a mixture of worry and disapproval.

‘No,’ he replied curtly. Lying would not help his case anyway, so he might as well tell the truth. He looked at the door. It hadn’t moved an inch since they had pushed it open, but Thorin was half afraid that it would fall shut, never to open again, if he as much as turned his back on it. It was an irrational fear and therefore he would never admit it to anyone out loud. ‘I’ll go down and fetch the others. I need you to stay here and guard the door.’ Balin had been a guard before the Mountain fell to the dragon and he was one of the few people Thorin knew he could trust beyond the shadow of a doubt. And if there was an ulterior motive of not wanting to send his friend to make this climb down and then up again, that was something he kept to himself. Balin would be angry about getting the special treatment and maybe he would even be justified in that, but his king could not care less.

‘No dragon will come through it on my watch.’ There was a playful tone to his voice underneath the seriousness and Thorin found himself smiling in spite of himself. They had found the door after all and that was an achievement of which they could be proud. And he was proud. There was no doubt about that.

He nodded. ‘Good.’

It only became apparent just how much the high rock walls protected them from the cold when he stepped onto the ledge again. The air was freezing, especially this high up, but Mahal had the good sense to make his children so that they could withstand cold just fine. It had been a most natural thing to him until he had seen that Kate and Mr Baggins were not that well equipped to deal with the low temperature. Men may be Ilúvatar’s own children, but they came across as vulnerable to dwarves, who had been made so much stronger. Made to endure, that was what they were. His people had endured, he knew, even through a dragon invasion, Azanulbizar and wandering the wilds for years on end. They had endured, but at a price. They weren’t made to withstand everything after all. The thought made him sad.

The way down was an easier walk than the climb towards the door and now that he was on his own he made good time. Yesterday he had sometimes slowed his pace to make sure that Balin could keep up. His friend must have known that he did it, even if he had not commented on it. Balin was getting old, he realised. It was something Thorin did not want to spend time thinking about. And Balin usually cheerfully ignored the subject, which made it sometimes so easy to forget that he was no longer as strong as he used to be. He had been the only one to be really ill in Esgaroth, apart from the hobbit, and he had been out of breath a few times during the climb as well. He wanted Thorin to ignore it and Thorin had abided by his friend’s wishes, but it pained him to see how Balin struggled to keep up appearances sometimes. There was no shame in being older, but Balin treated it as such and the best thing Thorin could do – the only thing Balin would let him get away with – was to give him light tasks without making it seem as such.

He came to the end of the stairs. The sun was up now and even though it gave off little warmth in this time of year, it was pleasant to feel on his face. If anything proved that he was no longer a true, proper dwarf, then this would, he imagined. Before the Mountain fell, the ones who loved to live above the ground where the odd ones out. Thorin had always been one such dwarf when he was young and he took his siblings for outings on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, but it had never been that bad that being underground had made him feel uncomfortable. This was something he felt now. How Dáin would disapprove if he were ever to find out. Thorin could only hope that he would never discover it.

He was trying to work out which way he should take to get back to camp when he heard voices. The way down had been easy enough, since there were no crossroads, but that was different now and Thorin had never had the greatest sense of direction. Underground, ironically, it had never been an issue, but above the ground it was nothing short of his own personal nightmare. He had gotten lost twice in the Shire for a reason, but of course that was the ideal land to get lost in with all its hills and meandering little paths and many crossroads. How anyone could find their way there would forever be a mystery to the King under the Mountain.

‘What do you mean, the tracks end here?’ He could have recognised that voice anywhere. The words may be Kate’s, but the tone was pure Dori. Correction: the tone was Dori when he was talking to Nori.

True to expectations, the thief replied. ‘They’re not there anymore, that’s what I mean.’ He sounded rather irritated. ‘No need to get yourself worked up over it. They won’t have vanished from the face of the earth. And I’d like to see you leaving footprints on bare rock.’ It sounded like the Ri brothers were at it again, although Thorin would be the first to admit that he didn’t object as long as Dori scolded someone who wasn’t him. And ten to one that Nori had done something that justified such behaviour. He had seen enough of the brothers to know that they’d had to have something of an argument long before it reached this stage. ‘Do it yourself, if you know so much about the subject.’

‘Now see here, there is no need to talk in such tones to me!’ Dori lectured.

‘There’s every need as far as I can see,’ Nori muttered.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Dori exploded.

‘Guys, knock it off, will you?’ came Kate’s exasperated cry.

The brothers argued on as if nothing at all had been said, until a war cry made them shut up. ‘You heard your sister, didn’t you?’ That was Dwalin and he too was rather annoyed. Thorin could not blame him. Dori and Nori’s petty fights had the potential to become very wearying very quickly.

‘Did she turn into Dori while I wasn’t looking?’ Nori demanded. ‘She’s not my brother!’

Thorin knew enough of Nori and Dwalin to know that they could hardly stand the sight of one another. Nori had once claimed – something which Thorin wasn’t meant to overhear – that Dwalin reminded him of Dori, which was not meant as a compliment. Dwalin on the other hand thought Nori’s kleptomaniac urges unacceptable. Thorin couldn’t blame him for it, but now he thought that there was an outburst in the making.

‘No, but she is your future queen and you might want to treat her with more respect,’ Dwalin boomed.

That took Thorin by surprise. Dwalin still had little liking for the company advisor. He hadn’t voiced his opinion to Thorin since Mirkwood, but the dwarf had known his friend for long enough to read his face like a book. Maybe he was just using this to get one over Nori, but Dwalin wasn’t the kind to act so childish. Thorin had a fairly good idea what his motives were though. He may disagree, but he was loyal to a fault. And he saw it as his duty to take care of Kate in Thorin’s absence, even though he disapproved. Sometimes the dwarf king felt that he did not appreciate Dwalin’s friendship enough.

He was getting closer to the source of the noise. Just around the bend now, he suspected. And that proved to be right. The small group, consisting of those he’d already heard and Bombur, who wasn’t much of a talker, was standing near what Thorin believed to be the footprints they had been looking at. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked sternly.

Everyone looked up. Nori, who had been bending over to see things better, looked up with a triumphant smile at his sister instead of Thorin. ‘Told you he was fine,’ he told her. ‘No need to keep worrying about him.’

Kate had been worrying? That was a surprise. Kate wasn’t the worrying type. It just wasn’t in her nature, Thorin thought. But one look at her taught him that she wasn’t looking like herself. The advisor’s hair was a mess, even worse than usual. It became like that when she was uncomfortable or worrying, because she repeatedly and absent-mindedly brushed her hand through it time and again. But she was pale too and the dark circles underneath her eyes told Thorin that she may have slept just as much as he had last night, which was to say not at all.

But why would she have been worrying? They had only been caught by the dark before they could make it back to camp. No harm had befallen them and they had no reason to think why that should have happened. Why would she think any differently?

He didn’t get the chance to think on it though. Kate had forgotten all decorum and just launched herself into his arms. Had he not been of the dwarven race, he might have been knocked off his feet because of the sheer force of it. All he could reasonably do was to catch her and give a freezing stare to the others over her shoulder to stay out of this whole matter until it had been dealt with.

Kate’s brothers seemed confused and Dwalin did not look like he understood what was the matter either. To his surprise it was Bombur who had the knowing look on his face and urged the others to come away with him. Thorin would have to remember to ask how he knew what this was about when he didn’t even know that himself.

It was only when he’d seen to it that the four had left that he could spend some time trying to determine just what was wrong. And it turned out to be worse than he had expected, because Kate appeared to be crying.

‘What is wrong?’ he asked.

That had been the wrong thing to ask, although he could not understand why that was. This was the natural thing to ask, wasn’t it? Instead Kate took a step back, fury written all over her face. ‘What’s wrong?’ she fumed. ‘You bloody idiot! Where the hell were you?’ She glanced around. ‘And where’s Balin?’

It might be wisest to answer the last question first. ‘He is guarding the door,’ he replied, wondering what in Durin’s name he was supposed to do or say that wouldn’t make her any angrier. He was at a loss to understand why she was so mad at him in the first place. It did not make any sense to him. It was now that he was forced to admit that he had too little experience in dealing with females. He had known Dís for years of course, but she made sense, most of the time. The longer he knew Kate Andrews, the more he understood of her as well. Today however, he found himself at a loss. ‘We found the side door late in the afternoon, but the light had gone before we could start back.’

If he had been hoping that this answer would satisfy her, then he was mistaken. ‘Damn it, Thorin. I thought you were killed by an orc, burned by a dragon… I thought you had fallen off a cliff and died. I don’t know _what_ I thought!’ Tears were running down her cheeks without restraint and his normal reaction would have been to take a few steps back. But Thorin suspected that now that he was in a relationship with the advisor, backing away would be a very bad move, even now that she had started to unleash her fists on his chest. There was no strength behind the blows and he hardly felt them through his armour – she would probably hurt herself worse than she hurt him – but this did serve to undermine how serious she was about this.

And it did explain some of her behaviour. She had been afraid for him, however unfounded it had been and, if he was guessing right, this fear for him had led to her being unable to sleep at night. It did however not explain why she was behaving the way she did now.

His silence did not seem to make things better either. ‘Stupid dwarf! You could have died and I’d never have known!’ An uncomfortable feeling wriggled its way in. This was starting to sound more and more like the way she’d talked to him before Rivendell. Speaking of the race he belonged to in such a manner, as if it were an insult, that was something he’d not heard in months.

He grasped her wrists before she could land another blow. ‘I’m not dead,’ he pointed out, talking slowly, like he had done to a very small Kíli when he had come home bloodied and bruised after fighting a group of orcs who had been trying to raid the village. His sister-son had been frightened out of his mind by the sight and had been convinced his uncle was going to die. He hadn’t understood that most of the blood on Thorin’s clothes had not belonged to him at all.

Somehow those words seemed to register in her mind and she left out a breath of what sounded like relief. ‘Thank God,’ she whispered.

It occurred to Thorin then that embracing her would protect him quite well from any fists aimed at him, since she would not be in a good position to hit him then. And Kate let it happen, all resistance melted away.

But he didn’t understand. And he still didn’t understand what it all meant when they ended the embrace and they went back to business. They had a camp to move and they all had to be up before the sun went down, which would be all too soon. Kate seemed to have gone back to being her normal self as well. She smiled, joked with Bofur and neatly ducked out of Nori’s way when he tried to make her choose side in the argument he had with Dori. Everything was as it normally was, except for that one outburst he could not lay his finger on.

‘She was scared,’ a voice next to him said suddenly as they were putting the food in bags. He should not have been surprised to learn that it was Bombur who had spoken.

‘Kate wasn’t scared,’ Thorin contradicted. ‘She was angry.’

Bombur was not a man of many words, but now he persisted. ‘She was scared,’ he repeated. ‘Stayed up all night for worrying.’

He had suspected something like that. But it did still not tell him why she had gotten so furious. He had seen it in her eyes, the look she only had when she was really livid. ‘She hit me,’ he reminded the fat dwarf.

‘Aye, she did,’ Bombur nodded. ‘Dara once did the same thing when she thought I’d been injured in an accident. It’s just relief.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s how women deal with it, I suppose.’ He got up and left Thorin to his thoughts, having said what he had come to say.

Bombur had been talking to him as an equal, he thought, no, more like he for once was more knowledgeable about a subject than his king. And Thorin had to admit – reluctantly mind – that in this case that might even be true. Where it came to the female kind, he still had a very long way to go.

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Will I ever fully understand her?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Bilbo needs some coaxing into doing his job and Thorin asks a question he didn’t expect himself to ask.   
> Please review? I love to hear what you think!


	65. Proposal

_Speaking of long ways to go, I was about to discover that our way up the Mountain was a tad bit longer than I had anticipated. Of course you lot are now laughing at my naivety, but I was not Queen under the Mountain then yet, so I think I was allowed to be a little naïve back then. Besides, the journey down did not seem to have taken up a lot of time at all, which made me conclude that the journey up would not take long at all either. More fool me._

_Thorin’s plan was to make the company members who could manage walk up to the door and haul the rest of the group up with ropes. We would do the same with the luggage and, contrary to the book, no one was staying behind to look after the ponies. We would have no more use for them, so we set them free and let them go on their merry way. If we would indeed be as foolish as the book claimed we would be, then we could always hope that our mounts were far away enough not to get caught up in the slaughter._

_Having said that, the trek up the Mountain was in no way pleasant. I was no dwarf and I had none of their endurance. The slopes were steep and the climb was difficult enough even when there wasn’t any luggage to carry. I found myself short of breath and with cramping legs before we were even halfway there, which was decidedly not a good sign at all. Months of travelling through the wild did definitely help some, but it had been quite some time since the Misty Mountains and those had never been this bad. The Lonely Mountain proved to be a challenge for me._

_I don’t think I’ve ever climbed that much again in my life. The paths inside Erebor itself are never that steep and for some reason even if you are climbing, you never seem to notice that you do at all._

_Hm, come to think of it, I do remember an occasion when I had to climb even more than I had to then, back when my two eldest sons thought it a good idea to explore the eastern side of the Mountain and you got lost. Of course you weren’t even missed before dinner and why would we suspect that anything was even wrong? You were always up to something the moment we took our eyes off you. I daresay that we were used to it by then. But when we did find out that you did not come home for dinner – since both of you have such an appetite that you might as well have been born hobbits – well, the worrying started in earnest. I don’t think you lads ever quite realised how much your antics frightened your parents, although I don’t think Thorin will ever admit to have been frightened when called on it. He may however admit that some of his grey hairs are the direct result of your wild adventures. So we sent out a search party for you and we went with it ourselves. How were we to know which way you’d gone? We searched the western slopes, never aware that you had gone the other way. Of course no one saw fit to inform us of your return when you just walked back in through the front gate as if nothing had happened at all, while we were spending the day worrying for your wellbeing. I had aching muscles for weeks after._

_It was the same when we climbed up to the side door. But aching muscles really were the last thing on my mind…_

 

A good night’s sleep was capable of doing the greatest miracles in the whole wide world, Kate decided. If anything it did wonders for her view on things. _Things will look better in the morning._ It was one of her mother’s favourite sayings and Kate was not at all convinced that she would be wrong in thinking so. The night before her feelings had been a mess. She was angry at Thorin, even if it wouldn’t be right to do so, not really, since it was not his fault that she had spent a night worrying herself sick over him, literally so even. This was not a world where mobile phones were commonplace, so he could not have reasonably let her know where he was and that he was in fact perfectly fine. Even so, she blamed him for not realising that she had been worried so much and pretended that nothing at all had happened. And so she had torn into him, making a terrific scene of things, before practically crying her heart out because she was so relieved to see him standing there unharmed.

Something told her that had not been the queenly thing to do now that she had a chance to think about it. In fact, she was hard-pressed to think of any reason why she had behaved in that way. True, her feelings had been messed up, but she normally knew how to keep control of herself. Maybe the sleepless night was coming into play or maybe it was just because she was so frustratingly new to this that she could not for the life of her figure out what on earth she was to do with herself.

When reflecting on relationships she’d had before, none of those came even close to what she had with Thorin. Not that it was likely either. Robert had been a teenage crush of hers. He’d been tall, ridiculously handsome, two years older than she was and sought after by every girl in the school, so she was ever so flattered when he took up with her. It had taken her all of two months to realise that Jacko’s assessment of him as a self-important bastard was still something of an understatement and that there was not much brain in that handsome head either.

Marc was another story entirely. He had started out as a fellow student and a project had thrown them together. Marc was witty, intelligent – thank goodness for that – and a true gentleman, even if he was not very handsome. And he had been quite the romantic too, had taken her out for dates, had even sent her flowers at her work, succeeding in making her blush. Unfortunately he just wasn’t the faithful type and he had made the mistake of sending red roses to the colleague who occupied the desk next to her, something Kate had seen. His nose had paid the price for that.

Thorin, she reflected as she laid in his arms that early morning, had none of Robert’s charm and even less romantic impulses than a piece of rock, but this relationship felt real to her, went deeper than just a pretty face or empty gestures. Was that why her own feelings were so much more intense? She neither knew nor cared overly much. This relationship just was. It was there and it was strong and she wouldn’t have it any other way, worrying or not.

‘You are awake,’ a voice came from somewhere above her, which was natural, since she somehow seemed to end up lying with her head either against Thorin’s chest or on it when he was lying on his back, so he served as a glorified pillow. Kate hadn’t heard him complain about it till date, and he did make for a nicer pillow than some rolled up item of clothing that during the night always seemed to unroll, leaving her head on the cold floor.

‘As are you,’ she muttered, even when she wondered how he knew that she was. As far as Kate was aware, she had been lying perfectly still, had been breathing normal and had not opened her eyes. Yet somehow Thorin always seemed to know it when she was not sleeping. ‘What gave me away?’ she asked, deciding that she was curious enough to go through the bother of just asking what she wanted to know. ‘Do my ears start twitching or is there some sign that appears over my head saying “Advisor Awake”?’

Thorin’s chuckling made his chest move and Kate could hear the rumbling sound of his amusement under her head. It was an oddly reassuring feeling. It meant he was still here and capable of enjoying himself, alive and well. And hopefully he would be for many years still to come. It was hard to imagine Thorin dead anyway, especially while she was still holding him so close to her and she could feel and hear his heart beating. ‘None of those.’

‘Then what is it, I wonder.’ It felt good to banter a little with everything else that was going on. Who knows what the future held? It all felt so dark and gloomy at times and she found she needed to hold on to the happy things in life or she’d run mad for sure. ‘Do I start moving?’

‘You lie too still,’ was the reply. ‘You always toss and turn in your sleep.’

That had made her prop herself up on her elbows and made her open her eyes to look at him. There wasn’t much light to see by yet, but there was enough to see his face. ‘Do I now? I should take more care then, I imagine.’

There was no reply. Kate may be studying Thorin, but he was doing the same thing with her. There was a frown on his forehead that the advisor did not entirely trust. It was the frown that was telling her he was sliding into one of his brooding moods and even a wall was more sociable than Thorin being deep in thought.

‘What’s up?’ she demanded, keeping her tone of voice deliberately light. Oh, she could guess what was wrong, but in all honesty she didn’t feel like playing the guess game with him today. They may be a couple now, but it clearly did not mean that they were suddenly telling each other everything. She was guilty of keeping secrets as much as the dwarf was. Kate didn’t think they were deliberately keeping them; it was just too much of a habit and neither of them wore their heart on their sleeve. Well, Kate did when she was angry, but speaking out when she was calm and collected was something else entirely. She just didn’t do that and neither did Thorin. Come to think of it, she didn’t believe either of them had said ‘I love you’ thus far – her confession to Balin didn’t count, because she had not strictly speaking been addressing Thorin himself and it was under duress.

‘You are angry with me,’ he observed.

The company advisor didn’t need to ask what he meant. She knew full well what he was talking about and the frustrating thing was that she had no idea how to answer him. ‘I wasn’t,’ she contradicted, shaking her head.

He pulled a leaf out of her book. ‘Could have fooled me.’

She bet it had. ‘I was angry, all right,’ she admitted. ‘Just not with you.’ At least that was what she thought, but her head had been something of a mess when she had launched into her shouting offence and she had not really had the time to sort it out since. Actually, they had more or less carried on as they normally did.

‘Then who?’ He clearly didn’t buy a word she had just said and Kate could not blame him. She had yelled at him. Now, the morning after, she could not even quite remember what it was she had said. She was rather sure though that she had called him a stupid dwarf at some point. That, the advisor reflected, had not been her most brilliant move. In fact, it may even count as one of her most stupid actions to date. No wonder he was angry with her. She would have been angry too if he had insulted her race.

‘Me, the circumstances?’ she ventured. ‘I don’t even know!’

And it frustrated her that she did not even know who she blamed. That was the worst of it. All she knew was that she had been frightened, up to the point that she thought she would not be able to breathe anymore for fear of what had happened to Thorin. When she saw him, it had been like giving water to a man dying of thirst. She had felt alive again and was infinitely relieved that he had not even as much as a scratch on him. And then he had asked what the matter was. Of all the bloody stupid things to say, that was the best he had been able to come up with. It was as if he didn’t understand what she had gone through while he had turned out to be just fine, having camped in front of the door they had all been searching for. Like as not he’d even got a good night’s sleep while she was worried out of her mind. And even though there was little else he could have done, Kate still lost her temper.

Thorin was silent and that, Kate knew, was seldom a good sign. ‘I’m sorry?’ she tried. ‘I don’t know what came over me. Can we… can we move on?’

There was silence again and this time she looked up to see his face. Thorin Oakenshield looked puzzled, the way he did when she used some phrase he didn’t get. But he was hardly going to tell her that he did not know what she meant – heaven forbid that he would lose face by not knowing something – so he dealt with it in true Oakenshield fashion; he arched an eyebrow, an unspoken request to elaborate.

Kate smiled hesitantly. ‘Can we forgive and forget? Get on with our lives. Forget the whole sorry affair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you as you did, although you might have used other words when you just turned up, you hairy idi…’

Her words were cut off when Thorin silenced her with a kiss, which was all the answer she needed anyway, so she would not be complaining anytime soon. If being in a relationship with him meant that she got this with it, then she certainly could do it. And, she observed, it felt still as good as it had that first time in Mirkwood. And it had never felt like that with either Robert or Marc. With them it had always been about them, about what was in it for them. It didn’t feel like that now. With Thorin it was about being loved, about belonging. It was like sealing a promise.

 _Andrews, you’re insane_ , her mind commented. _What woman is thinking about ex-boyfriends when she’s kissing another man?_

And it was right too. It was a stupid thing to do. And so she banished the memory Robert’s charm and Marc’s romantic gestures to the back of her mind and enjoyed the present. The rest of the camp was still sleeping and this time Nori wasn’t exactly breathing down her neck, so she took a little less care with being discreet. Her fingers got lost in Thorin’s hair, while the dwarf’s one hand played with her locks, even as the other secured her against him. Dori would surely suffer a heart attack if he saw.

This time there was no annoying brother to comment or to disapprove of what she was doing, which was a relief. She’d been embarrassed to death when it happened the last time. The idea of getting a room, as Nori had suggested, was starting to sound tempting, not in the least because it was cold up on the Mountain. They may be sheltered here from the worst of the icy wind, but it wasn’t comfortable.

Thorin was the one who broke the kiss. ‘You’re cold.’

Given the fact that he must have felt her shiver just seconds before, that was hardly a difficult conclusion. ‘Stating the obvious, are you? I knew Kíli had to get it from somewhere. It must be something that runs in the family.’

Thorin worked himself up in a sitting position and dragged her up with him, making sure she stayed under the blanket. She allowed the fuss this time, just because it was indeed warmer and she was a bit cold, but if they were going to make this work, they would have to have a discussion about this sooner rather than later. She was not about to be wrapped in cotton wool for the rest of her days, not while she had a say in it and she rather thought she had.

‘Mahal be praised that he is not destined for the throne then,’ Thorin remarked wryly. And he was probably right about it. Fíli was more serious, when Kíli didn’t drag him into trouble and mischief that was.

‘That’ll be his brother’s job,’ Kate agreed. ‘And he probably will do a much better job of it too.’ This had her thinking though. She didn’t think it was likely that she would ever have children of her own, not when they each had a different Maker. Dwarves were Mahal’s creation, Men were Ilúvatar’s. Maybe men and elves were able to reproduce because they had the same creator, but that was different in her case.

But to be honest, Kate had never been really thinking about having children. She was a woman of her time, after all. She had been more concerned with starting a career first. Even then, she would have to find a good man first if she wanted to have children of her own. Since she didn’t have one, that pretty much made the whole subject meaningless. It was only now when she was faced with the prospect that was something she may never have that she found she would like it. Not right away, but in a few years, then yes. _If wishes were horses…_

Thorin had noticed her sudden absent-mindedness. ‘What is on your mind?’

Kate weighed her chances of getting out of it with a distraction, but that was probably not going to work. When Thorin put his mind to something he was like a terrier holding onto a bone; he didn’t let go. ‘Children,’ she replied. And before he had the chance to ask her what she meant, she elaborated: ‘I was just wondering that people might not like me not just because I’m no dwarf, but because there is a realistic option of us not being able to have children together.’ It was not quite the whole truth, but it was close enough. And besides, it was a real issue. Thorin had a duty to his people. It would be expected of him to produce heirs if he ever married. In taking up with her, he might not achieve that. ‘I mean, it might be expected of you.’

‘Fíli and Kíli are my heirs,’ Thorin said curtly. ‘I don’t need to marry only to have children.’

Kate felt as if she had been placing her finger on the sore spot though, given how curt his answer had been. And it made her feel awkward and somehow imperfect. That was not a feeling she enjoyed. ‘But you want them,’ she urged. It was a wild guess, but one that would explain his behaviour. Strangely enough he had not argued with her over the possibility whether or not they could reproduce together, which suggested that he had already given it some thought himself. Kate didn’t know if she should think it good that he had spent so much thought into the issue already or hurt that he had not seen fit to discuss it with her.

Thorin nodded. ‘Aye.’

There was a moment of silence between them. This did not sound like a good thing to the advisor. What if he was now rethinking his options? If he called it off now, he could still search for another woman, one of his kind, with whom he would not have this issue. Kate thought that if it really came down to it, she could live with never having any kids of her own. Right now she didn’t think there would be any man other than Thorin that she even wanted to imagine having children with, which she supposed was all the answer she needed. Thorin however may be of a different mind.

And that was the problem with them. The moment they finally seemed to get anywhere, new problems arose between them, undoing all the progress they had made, adding to the pile of obstacles they had yet to overcome. If she was really pessimistic she wondered if life would keep on throwing problems in their way until the day they died. In part it may indeed be easier not to deny her feelings, but most of the time it made things only more difficult. She was still fighting and maybe even harder than she had been fighting before. It made her long for childhood, when life had certainly not always been ideal, but it had been simpler. And she longed for that. Was that so wrong of her? Was it so wrong to wish for things to go her way just for once? She certainly did not think so.

But it did make her wonder about what she needed to do now. Would it not be better for everyone involved to put an end to it while she still could? She had been trying to live a story, a fairy-tale, but that didn’t happen in real life. And she kept being painfully reminded of that, time and again. If the obstacles were so high, should they not simply do what Thorin’s people would surely expect him to do and end this here and now? He had a duty to his people and there had to be dozens of dwarf women who would be more than willing to marry him and give him the heirs he needed. The only reaction she would get from his people would be disapproval. That was harsh, but it was also the truth. This was not a fanfiction after all.

‘Dori asked me about the same question,’ Thorin remarked when the silence became so awkward that Kate was about to stand up and create some much-needed distance.

This side-tracked her temporarily. ‘Did he?’ She felt a blush threatening to grace her cheeks in sheer embarrassment. Had Dori no sense of what he could and could not do? Had he gone crazy? He should have stayed out of this. It was not as if she had not asked it of him before.

Thorin nodded. ‘He did.’

It would seem that she would not get the account of what had happened by waiting for him to tell her. She would have to ask. The mental picture of the stubborn oyster sprang to mind once again. Would it kill him to be a bit more forthcoming with his information from time to time? ‘And what did you say?’

‘The same thing I told you,’ he said. In Kate’s opinion that was hardly an answer at all. It was just an evasion. No, he didn’t strictly speaking _need_ any children of his own, but that didn’t mean he didn’t _want_ them. There was a world of difference and Kate knew that only too well. He wasn’t exactly lying to her, but this did not count as a straightforward answer either.

‘Well, that’s enlightening,’ Kate said sarcastically. Really, it was too early in the morning for this. And she kept on wondering how they kept going back from being so very happy to finding themselves on the brink of a break-up in a matter of minutes. It must be quite the achievement. How could they ever even have thought that this could work out? ‘Listen, Thorin, maybe…’

Usually it was Kate Andrews who interrupted people. Usually wasn’t that day. Thorin took a leaf out of her book when he did what she usually did best: interrupt. ‘Before Gandalf dragged you onto this quest, I did not think I would ever marry,’ he pointed out.

Kate frowned. ‘Yes?’ _What the hell do you mean?_

It was obvious that the dwarf was struggling. Talking about feelings was not something either of them excelled in, and yet they were both trying. Still, it was Thorin who actually said it first. ‘Children are not worth having with another woman.’

It took a few seconds for the real message to actually sink in, but then she found that a smile worked its way onto her face. Maybe she should do away with that notion of breaking up after all. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but this had not been it. That didn’t change the fact that this was a very welcome thing to hear. That he felt the same way she felt, somehow it still felt surreal, like a dream she might wake up from any moment. But if it was a dream, she would enjoy it while it lasted.

And if he could pluck up the courage to tell her how he felt, then surely she could do the same. ‘Love you too.’ She planted a quick kiss on his mouth and then got up. Like it or not, dawn had arrived and they still had a dragon to defeat. Thorin remained behind, seated against a piece of rock, completely flabbergasted.

 

***

 

By the time the sun had crept over the horizon – even if they could not see it – most members of the company were awake. There was an atmosphere of nervous anticipation. Thorin reckoned he was not the only one to realise that today was the day when it was all going to happen. They may not slay the dragon before sundown, but they would have information, information they needed.

And that was where the hobbit came in and he knew it well. Master Baggins looked afraid of his own shadow this morning, terrified by the very prospect of having to go into the dragon’s lair, even though he must have known that it would come to that. It was in his contract, it was the only reason Thorin put up with the hobbit’s presence in the first place. The dragon didn’t know the scent of hobbit, Gandalf had reasoned, and Thorin found it particularly hard to argue with that. And even he would have to admit that the halfling was quick and quiet. He could easily sneak up on people and had successfully done so on several occasions. That was leaving his performance in Mirkwood out of consideration even. The dwarf did not really doubt that Mr Baggins could do what he had been hired to do, if he didn’t faint like he had done in Bag End first.

And now he was caught up in an argument with Kate. The two were standing a bit away from the rest and the hobbit was using a lot of arm gestures to emphasise the point he was making. From where he stood Thorin could not hear what was being said, but he got the gist of it.

‘Doesn’t look like our burglar is looking forward to doing his job,’ Dwalin observed wryly.

Thorin took a deep breath. ‘Nay.’ It didn’t look like that at all.

‘Kate will set him straight,’ Balin commented. The elderly dwarf was sitting on the ground, eating his breakfast. From all the members of the company, he was the only one who seemed to keep a clear head. That was what they needed, Thorin observed. All the others were either bouncing with excitement, like Nori and his own sister-sons, or solemn and a tad bit pessimistic, like Glóin and Dori, who were conversing in low voices with facial expressions that suggested they were about to attend the funeral of a close and beloved relative.

Dwalin arched an eyebrow to convey his scepticism. ‘Your brains get addled with age, brother.’

‘I have complete faith in the advisor,’ Balin said. ‘And it is a well-known fact that I am the smartest of the two of us. Sharp enough for both of us.’

‘Thick-skulled enough, you mean,’ Dwalin countered good-naturedly.

This was the kind of argument that would get them nowhere. Thorin left them to their banter, glad that they were capable of it. Privately, his mood resembled Glóin’s, but he was in no hurry to let his friends find out about that. They all looked to him. He was the one to lead this quest, the one who always had faith in what they were doing. It would be up to him to present a strong image for them to follow, because without that, they would fall apart and that was something they could not risk.

His feet led him to where the burglar and the advisor were caught up in an argument. He wouldn’t interfere if he could help it, but the hobbit needed to be reminded of his duty. It was a word he hated; it had haunted his every step for as long as he could remember. But he had also learned that it was not something he could break free from and it was something Bilbo Baggins had to learn sooner rather than later.

‘It’s simple!’ Kate insisted. ‘You go in, see where Smaug is, find out where his weak spot is and then you come back. You don’t need to talk to him – in fact it’d probably be for the best if you didn’t – and you just don’t take anything he thinks of as his, however misinformed he is about what does and doesn’t belong to him.’

It was still rather a novelty to hear Kate Andrews bossing people about. In a strange way it both did and didn’t suit her. She was not the kind of woman who told others what to do, unless her temper was extremely tested. Thorin had a feeling that was the case now.

Bilbo threw his hands up in the air, but he kept his voice hushed, which somehow only served to emphasise just how out of sorts he was. ‘Simple?’ he hissed. ‘Just a simple matter of not getting eaten by the dragon in its own lair? Have you lost your mind?’

Insulting Kate of not being in her right mind was not something that Thorin would ever think of as commendable. Kate Andrews may not be physically strong, but she did have a strong temper and a tongue that rivalled Orcrist for sharpness. It was not a good idea to get on the receiving end of aforementioned tongue. Personally he might choose the dragon over getting on Kate Andrews’s bad side. ‘No,’ she said icily, voice vibrating with barely contained anger. ‘But I rather think you have. You were the one who signed the contract, remember? You didn’t have to. No one actually forced you to sign the bloody thing. No one made you run out of your comfortable hole to go on an adventure. That was all your own doing. So don’t come running to me now that it’s actually serious and you have to get off your arse and risk something to get the job done.’

‘I think I’ve done more than my contract even said I’d have to do, thank you very much,’ Bilbo said.

‘You did,’ Kate admitted. ‘But it is not what you are hired for. You were meant to go in and find out what is going on _inside_ the Mountain, because you are the one who’s got the best chance to come out again alive. Damn it, Bilbo, you read the book, did you not? You know you’ll be fine, so stop whining like a spoiled child!’

A few days ago Kate had said that Bilbo Baggins had found his courage, but that she wished he remembered not to store it away every time they actually had need of it. Thorin found himself in agreement with his advisor over this. The hobbit may be braver than he had been when he left the Shire – not that it could easily get any worse than it had been – but he still had a long way to go. And maybe the dwarf should not have been this disappointed by the way the hobbit dealt with this; everyone seemed to lose their nerve when Smaug came into the picture. Master Baggins was clearly not an exception to that rule.

‘Yes, _yes_ , I read the book,’ the hobbit said impatiently. ‘But not everything fits, does it? That monster might even be awake now. You would never know!’

‘According to the book you went in with no information at all,’ Kate countered, not the one to be beaten in an argument. It was one of the reasons why Thorin had first hated her company and had later come to appreciate her.

As frustrating as it was to be treated with so little respect from time to time, it was good to be looked at as an equal. Before now, only Dís and Fundin’s sons did that, and Balin and Dwalin still to a lesser extent. Even though he was a king in exile only, people still treated Thorin as royalty, a person whose opinions were worth more than their own, whose orders had to be obeyed if he really decided to pull rank. Yes, he shared his people’s hardships and sorrow and asked nothing of them that he was not prepared to do himself. In many ways he was just one of them, but when it all came down to it, he was above them.

Dís had never let her actions be guided by what people expected. Maybe it was because she had still been very young when the Mountain fell and she simply did not remember how things were done in Erebor. Thorin thought it was more likely that she simply did not care about traditions and the proper way things were done. She had grown up in the wilderness and that had made a very practical woman out of her. People either made the good or the wrong decisions for their survival and if they made the wrong ones, someone needed to tell them before they all starved to death. And Dís never had troubles with being the one to speak up. Since she was Thorin’s sister she’d have more right to do so than others. With a wry smile Thorin thought she might indeed approve of Kate, once she was over the shock of her background and the fact that she was certainly not a dwarf.

‘Your head is in constant danger of growing too big, brother,’ she had once said when Thorin felt rather pleased with himself after having chased a raiding group of orcs away from their settlement with very little loss at all. ‘Someone needs to tell you that from time to time.’

‘You do enjoy that, don’t you?’ he had said with a wry smile.

Dís merely shrugged. ‘I don’t dislike it. Now, if you’re quite done boasting, there’s still swords and mattocks that need finishing and I don’t think they’re going to finish themselves, do you?’

His sister was a force to be reckoned with and Thorin half wished that she was here. She would have known what to do and what to say to make him smile even in the face of danger. When she was young, Thorin had been her protector. These days he often felt it was the other way around.

His attention was called back to the on-going argument by the sound of the hobbit’s voice. ‘This is not the book!’ he reminded Kate.

‘No, it’s not,’ Kate said, glaring at the hobbit. ‘You know what, why don’t I go in there and we’re done with this whole pointless fight anyway?’

That seemed to shock the burglar. ‘You can’t go in! Thorin would kill me!’

Kate shrugged. ‘Simple choice then: death by murderous dwarf or death by fire-breathing dragon. Simple enough, don’t you think?’

It was not always obvious, but the advisor had a cunning streak that showed more often these days than it had before. Thorin may have doubted Balin’s assessment of the situation, but it would seem that the elderly dwarf had indeed been right. Either he had been blessed with the gift of foresight or else he just understood the woman better than his king. The king did not care. All that mattered was that it had been done.

‘No…. I mean… yes!’ The hobbit was in all of a fluster once he learned what the advisor had in mind. ‘But you can’t guarantee that I’ll come back?’

‘I’m the company advisor, not Mystic Meg!’ Kate exclaimed in exasperation. ‘I couldn’t guarantee our survival in Mirkwood or the Misty Mountains either, but you still look like you’re in one piece, with all your limbs in their proper places. You’ll be fine.’ The hobbit looed rather doubtful. ‘Oh, good heavens, you’ve got a Ring that can turn you invisible! I should bloody well hope that’s going to help. If the dragon can’t see you, how will he know where to aim his fiery breath now, eh?’ She sighed. ‘It’s probably asleep anyway, remember. You’ll just be fine. Just keep that Ring on to be certain.’

That finally seemed to get the job of making the halfling see sense done. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Ah, yes, the Ring. Very handy.’

‘I should bloody well hope so,’ Kate muttered. ‘For heaven’s sake, just go, will you. The sooner we get this over with, the better it’s going to be for all of us.’

Bilbo looked a bit doubtful still, but he nodded at both Thorin, whom he had only just spotted, and then at Kate, before he marched off. The others were wishing him good luck, but Thorin was just about done with cowards who didn’t intend to fight, who backed away at the mention of a dragon. If he could, if only he could, he would have gone down there himself to see that the beast living down there would never harm another person again. He was loath to ask something of anyone that he was not willing to do himself. Well, he was willing, but he could not do it. Even asleep Smaug would recognise the scent of dwarf. He had eaten enough of them to know exactly how they sounded and tasted, but that was not a thing to remember now.

Kate had sat herself down on a rock, looking exhausted. ‘Hey you.’

He sat down next to her. ‘Why did you ask of him to keep that Ring on even when we both know that Smaug is still sleeping?’ He had been wondering about that since she said it. Something had seemed off about it and if anything, Thorin Oakenshield had developed a sixth sense for when something was not as it ought to be. It had saved his life more than once in battle. It had also saved him from supposedly funny pranks pulled by his sister-sons many times over.

The advisor glanced at the group of dwarves, consisting of Kíli, Nori and Dwalin, who were giving the burglar a last few pieces of advice and then turned back to Thorin. ‘Because he may not be as asleep as we hope.’

Thorin found himself frowning. ‘Why do you think that? The book states…’

Kate gave him a stern look. ‘I believe I told you not to take that book as gospel. Did you bloody well listen? Of course not.’

Normally they could discuss the quest without trouble, but now there was something different and something definitely was wrong. Kate only became like this when she was anxious, on edge, when something didn’t go the way she had planned for it to go. He had seen it in Mirkwood too, when the fact that she had changed things meant that she was no longer in control of the events, which had frightened her.

‘What is wrong?’ he demanded.

Kate bit her lip. ‘It’s the other version,’ she replied. ‘I’m not entirely certain about it and it’s only a few seconds to base the whole idea on, which isn’t very much at all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘In the last few seconds of the first movie – don’t ask, I’m not in the mood to explain – it shows Erebor and the dragon in it. And the last thing you see before the movie ends is one eye going open, which would suggest that Smaug is very much awake, and has been for some months, from about the time that we were saved by the eagles.’

Thorin wasn’t sure how much he understood of what she had said, but he thought he at least got the gist of it, that gist being that the dragon was awake. ‘Are you saying…?’

‘That Smaug is awake? Yes. Well, he could be. The versions disagree on this, which basically means that I don’t bloody well know!’

It was maybe for the best that Master Baggins had already disappeared inside the Mountain, because Kate’s voice had been steadily building into a shout and something told the king that the hobbit would have run – and not in the direction he should be going – if he had heard what it was that she had just said. The best thing he could do was to silence her before her shouting woke the dragon inside, if he wasn’t awake already. And the best way to silence Kate Andrews was to side-track her. In that respect she was really family of Dori’s; you needed to cut them off before they could get warmed up.

‘Will you stay?’

It was the first thing that popped into his head. He didn’t know where exactly it came from, but maybe it even dated back to the Misty Mountains. After all, Kate had been trying to leave the company when she had convinced him to read the book, had tried to talk Gandalf into letting her go back to her world when she thought she had done what she had been brought here to do. It was still the big, unsolved problem between them. Thorin did not truly think that she intended to go, but he needed certainties in his life, especially now that nothing seemed to be certain. They could be killed in Smaug’s fire or be slain in battle. It would be good to have something to be not as uncertain.

Kate blinked in confusion. ‘I beg your pardon?’

He repeated the question. It was harder to do the second time. It made him sound vulnerable. If there was one thing he never could be seen as, then it was vulnerable. But Kate had shown weakness as well, more than he had. But she was not the king, he reminded himself. No, but one day she might be queen. A year ago, even a few months ago, he might have choked on the very thought, but this day things had changed.

The woman still didn’t seem to understand it. ‘I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you mean. Just to be sure, what exactly did you hope to achieve by letting me sit on this rock all day?’

This only confirmed that she had not understood him right and part of him was severely tempted to drop the subject. This had been a mistake. Contrary to popular belief, Thorin knew his own strengths and weaknesses full well and talking about what was in his heart had never a strength of his and he well knew it.

He was saved from having to explain it again by Kate herself. Her eyes widened when the realisation dawned. ‘That’s what not what you mean, do you? You mean, will I stay after all is said and done?’

All he had to do was to nod. It was an easier thing to do than say it out loud. And he hated this. Other people had no trouble at all speaking out about what they felt, not even his own family. Dís said whatever it was that she was thinking and Kíli carried his heart on his sleeve. If that lad was ever to go courting, he’d speak of it beyond the shadow of a doubt. Thorin sincerely doubted they would ever be able to shut him up about it. And in the company he seemed to be one of the only ones to have trouble expressing himself. He knew that Bombur had taken his sweet time about confessing his feelings to Dara, but that was because he was too shy, unable to string more than two words together when in her presence. Thorin had never had any problems keeping up the conversation with Kate.

Kate frowned, but unless he was very much mistaken there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ‘Thorin Oakenshield, is that a proposal?’

He gave a curt nod. There was after all no point in denying it. And he would not have it said that he was a coward, not in matters such as this one. ‘Yes.’

The advisor gave him a thoughtful look. ‘So, let me get this straight: you’re asking me to give up every chance of a normal life, give up all my friends and family and enter into a society that may spit on me because of who I am, all to be with you?’

And when put like this it sounded like a selfish request. He knew that all too well. And to him it sounded insane that he had even brought it up. It was not like him to blurt out the first thing he thought of. That was more Kate’s prerogative, or Kíli’s, even Dori’s. Thorin didn’t do such things. A month ago he would not even have dreamed of asking this. But a lot had changed in that one month.

And that was what made him angry. The thought that she was still thinking about leaving made him want to stand up and kick something in anger, even though he knew he’d never do that. Kings did not vent their anger in such a way. But it didn’t mean that he did not feel things. _They always leave_. He had been left by too many people in his life. His own father had abandoned his family, crazed with grief. If he cared, he would have kept his head and fought and lived. He apparently cared less for his living family than he cared for his dead father. Too many had turned their backs on him when he searched for people to aid him in his quest. He found that he had been counting on Kate not to leave, not even after the quest. He now felt like he was on the verge of finding out that this assumption had been unfounded.

‘You would leave?’ _You would leave me?_ He did try to not sound threatening, but he feared he failed.

‘Whoa, hold your horses! I said no such thing!’ Kate sounded indignant. ‘I merely tried to confirm if that was what you were asking of me, to make sure we weren’t misunderstanding each other.’

It had not sounded like that to him and Thorin would rather die than admit that he may have made a mistake, so instead of trying to contradict her or saying that he might have been mistaken, he settled for answering her question. ‘Yes. That is what I’m asking.’ _And Mahal give that she won’t run._

Kate nodded, again thoughtfully. ‘Loyalty, honour and a willing heart, yes?’

He wondered how she knew he said that to Balin in Bag End. She had not been in the house – or hole, whatever hobbits used to call their dwellings – at that time, hiding in the garden, and it wasn’t in the book. Maybe it was the other version she often referenced. ‘Aye.’

She didn’t look at him when she answered. ‘I’ll have to go back, just once.’ She turned to him. ‘If I’m going to live my life here, then I at least want to say my goodbyes, properly. I’m pretty sure Gandalf owes me a few, so he can arrange the whole thing.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t leave them in uncertainty forever, I just can’t. They mean too much to me. They’re owed some of my loyalty as well.’

Thorin didn’t know what to expect really, but he was sure this had not been it. This answer showed that she had already spent a good deal of thought on it, that this had not taken her by surprise as he feared it would. ‘Then you’ll accept?’ She had all but said it, but he found he needed to hear it.

A silly grin appeared on her face. ‘Of course, you hairy idiot.’

It was an acceptance in true Kate style, but at that moment he couldn’t care if she had given her reply in elvish or in the orcs’ foul tongue. All that mattered was that she had accepted. Now that she had, this dreary place seemed to look a little bit brighter.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Not exactly how I had imagined it. But then, since when have Thorin and I done things by the book anyway?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we see this from Kate’s POV and we see the return of the hobbit.  
> Please review?


	66. Planning Ahead

_When you were young, my dears, Thorin had a few favourite phrases._ Do as I do _, he would say._ Do as your mother does. Imitate our behaviour and you will be just fine _. This was meant to get you lot into line, to make you learn some decent manners – sometimes I do feel as if my efforts on that account have been a waste of time and energy – and to keep you from making fools out of yourself in public. Now, I am not sure how well that last worked out. There’s still a very vivid memory of Jack and Flói, your preferred partner in crime, running into the hall where we were hosting a feast for a delegation of elves from Mirkwood and throwing a bowl of soup over one elf with a ridiculous long name that I cannot for the life of me remember anymore. According to the two of you it had something to do with a dare. It caused a diplomatic scandal. Of course your father didn’t help matters by bursting into giggles – he still insists it weren’t giggles, it were chuckles, I’ll have you know – when he saw the whole scene._

_Well, let me start off by saying that most of the time you would indeed do well to follow our advice, especially when it comes to manners and how to deal with foreign lords and ladies. Thorin’s advice to you is good counsel, although he did not mean for you to turn into us. Far from it._

_Because you know, sweethearts, our example is not always the right one. We just have the good sense to keep our less than admirable qualities out of your sight. And that is probably for the best as well. Because when it comes to matters of the heart, we stumbled from one disaster straight into the next, so whatever you do, when you go courting one day, do not come to see us for advice. Go to your aunt by all means or friends, go even ask Duria for help – she seems to have done pretty well on her own – but not us. I’m afraid we could not help you much and if we did help… Well, let’s just say your chances of success would be greatly lessened if that was your course of action._

_Because we are no romantics. We have never been and I doubt we ever will be. Truth is that neither of us is actually comfortable with romantic gestures, so we just do not bother with them, not much at least. Even we have our moments, believe it or not. My money is on you not believing it._

_And so Thorin proposed to me on a cold and almost stormy morning just after an equally cold breakfast and an almost fight over the contents of a book. At the time it seemed a bit surreal, but only later did I realise that it neatly fit with the way we were doing things. We slept with each other before Thorin even proposed – now that led to a lot of scandal later, let me tell you – and realised we had feelings for each other when your father kissed me to shut me up, of all stupid things to do. We had been moving our relationship forth with the pace of a hibernating bear for most of the journey and all of a sudden it raced ahead like an eagle swooping down on its prey. It didn’t make much sense to me then and, if I am being really honest, I still fail to find an explanation for how it came to be that way. Some things apparently just are the way they are. And maybe we shouldn’t measure our relationship to what is normal to other people when, quite frankly, we were far from normal ourselves._

_There were no real rules to our relationship and there still aren’t as far as I am aware. We just did as our impulses told us and even though that had led us into more arguments than I care to count, we’re still here and I would not break up with your father even if were given all the gold under the Mountain, so I suppose it works for us. I would advise you not to try any of our approaches to relationships though. We are being thought of as unorthodox and you know, given how we interact, they might very well be right in that assumption…_

 

Kate Andrews was on edge. That was probably the best way to describe her state of mind. Thorin did not seem to understand why she was getting herself so worked up over the whole dragon-is-or-isn’t-awake issue. And he was partly right in thinking like that. Bilbo had his Ring and he was very light on his feet. Even if Smaug was awake, there was no reason why he should not come back to them alive and healthy, provided he didn’t take any foolish risks. But the company burglar wasn’t the kind of person to take foolish risks at all, so she needn’t worry on that account.

No, it was the lying that did not sit well with her. Bilbo was not really a friend – he was actually more of a liability even, what with his intentions of making the book come true – but he had his good qualities and he had done a few brave things during the quest. And she had assured him that Smaug was sure to be sleeping, even when she knew that this might not be the case at all. She had sent him in with false information and that was not something she was proud of.

Another part of her anxiety was caused by the not knowing. It had been quite a while since she had last tried to make sense of conflicting versions of the story and she had found that she was extremely glad not to have to do that all the time, after they had landed on the Carrock. She had not missed the complexity of it at all. Quite the contrary, she was glad to be rid of it. When it came to Smaug’s consciousness though, the whole issue came alive again.

And of course Thorin didn’t seem to get it all at once. Why should he? He didn’t know the movie, so he wouldn’t take that into his considerations either. ‘Are you saying…?’

‘That Smaug is awake?’ Kate finished for him. ‘Yes. Well, he could be. The versions disagree on this, which basically means that I don’t bloody well know!’ The uncertainty would normally have her jump to her feet and pace the camp until she was out of breath, but something told her that was not exactly going to solve her troubles either. What she needed was a solution, certainties. Lately it felt like she was building her life on shifting sands. Nothing was really certain anymore. Well, nothing had been certain since the moment Gandalf had abducted her, so that should not be anything new at all.

Ever since she had set foot in this world she had not known whether or not she would even survive this quest, whether or not she would ever go back home again. She still didn’t have any answers. Things kept changing and although it was becoming more clear to her every day that she would most likely live out her days in this world, the time she would have to live was not clear.

It didn’t help matters that she didn’t know what Thorin wanted. His thoughts were as difficult to guess as they had ever been, even though she could sometimes read him better than a few months ago. Of course there had been a few lucky guesses as well. They were a couple now, that much she knew, but Thorin had always seemed like the type to do things by the book. He was that kind of old-fashioned person – although his attitude might be known as modern in this world – who would probably marry a woman first before he slept with her. They had done it the other way around and Kate didn’t quite know what to make of it. Well, she hadn’t known what to make of her own behaviour either. She felt new to this and therefore she was uncertain if she was doing things right. According to Dori, she wasn’t, but what Thorin thought was still as much of a mystery as it had ever been.

‘Will you stay?’ Thorin’s voice interrupted her thoughts, jerking her back to the here and now.

Guiltily she realised that her thoughts had wandered a long way from the subject they had been discussing before she got lost in thought. What else had he said before she had heard him talking? ‘I beg your pardon?’

Thorin misinterpreted. ‘Will you stay?’ he repeated.

 _Not what I meant, you idiot_. Of course she would not say that. They weren’t having an argument now after all and she was the one foolish enough to get distracted in the middle of a conversation. ‘I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you mean,’ she replied, hoping to get an answer out of him that way. Deliberately misinterpreting what he said was one of the best ways to tempt oyster Thorin into sharing his secrets. ‘Just to be sure, what exactly did you hope to achieve by letting me sit on this rock all day?’

Her preferred method of getting the dwarf king to talk did not work today though. Thorin responded with silence, which prompted Kate to have a good long look at his face to try and see if that would be a little bit more helpful in getting an answer. It didn’t usually help, given Thorin’s preference for cold and unreadable as a default setting for his facial expression. Today however she was in luck. Oh, he may be aiming for cold and unreadable, but eyes were always a particularly difficult thing to control. They were Thorin’s weakness, because they tended to give him away. And today was no exception.

It was the kind of look that surprised her though. He was looking, for want of a better word, vulnerable. And that was when the penny dropped. ‘That’s what not what you mean, do you? You mean, will I stay after all is said and done?’ It was a guess, but a well-founded guess, she believed. He did not ask her to sit on a rock all day – really, what would be the point of that? – but he asked her to stay under the Mountain. With him. At least, she hoped that was what he had indeed meant to ask. Conversing with Thorin in a difficult mood was often something akin to walking a tightrope over a gorge in a storm and one misstep could make her plunge into the deeps. If she had guessed wrongly, awkwardness might make an instant return and Kate was not exactly looking forward to any of that. She’d had enough of awkwardness to last her a lifetime.

To her relief it would seem that today however she had guessed right for a change and she was rewarded for her troubles with a curt nod of the head. She would have preferred a verbal reply over the one she got any day, but that was apparently out of the question. She may even be lucky that she had gotten a reply at all, especially when he had one of his moods.

She did think she understood it though. She had the same reluctance to talk about feelings as the dwarf king. They just had different ways of dealing with it. Thorin retreated into himself and answered in one word sentences, if he answered at all, whereas Kate usually attempted to do the same, but usually ended up rambling and saying far more than she had planned to say, far louder than she had intended, because she felt pressured to talk when she really didn’t want to. Her confession to Balin a few weeks ago was a prime example of that. Thorin froze, Kate exploded. Sometimes she wondered why they were even together when they were so different. Maybe they balanced each other out.

There was a question that was dying to come out, but Kate wasn’t sure she dared to ask for fear that she might be wrong. If she was wrong, things could explode as easily as her own temper at times and that was something she was not really prepared to risk, not now they were finally getting together for real. Oh, what, to hell with it. She _needed_ to ask. ‘Thorin Oakenshield, is that a proposal?’ She tried to keep her tone of voice light, but felt that she failed. If she was wrong about this… Well, that didn’t bear thinking about. She was still on the tightrope and she could still fall off.

But apparently she was in luck today. Thorin favoured her with another curt nod and this time he even gave her a verbal ‘Yes’ to go with it, just to make sure that she didn’t misunderstand him.

Kate knew she should not feel conflicted about that answer. Part of her wanted to get up and do a happy dance around the camp, cheering in happiness as she went. She was not going to deny that this was the thing she had wanted to hear for some time now – even if eventually she had been the one to even ensure that the question was asked in the first place – because it made what they had really official and that was what she wanted. Before now it was clear to anyone with a brain that they were in fact in a relationship, but it was not official. A proposal was.

On the other hand this also made it clear, like nothing else could have done, that she was never really going back home. _Oh, stop being such a baby, Andrews!_ she told herself. _You knew this decision was coming._ She had thought about it a lot, had even worked on a solution for the problem, admittedly with a lot of help from Dwalin. Still, this was not the kind of decision one just made between breakfast and lunch. It was hard, difficult. If she chose this – no, _when_ she chose this – she would give up her whole life in that world, building her new life up from scratch among a people that may not welcome her with open arms. Kate would rather die than admit it, but the thought terrified her. At least in her own world she understood customs; she was just another human being among countless other human beings. She wasn’t the odd one out there. She surely would be here.

And she wondered if Thorin even had any inkling of what he was asking of her. Oh, she didn’t doubt that he had more than his fair share of difficult decisions in his life and that he understood sacrifice better than she did, but he had never had to give up his people, the ones he cared about. ‘So, let me get this straight: you’re asking me to give up every chance of a normal life, give up all my friends and family and enter into a society that may spit on me because of who I am, all to be with you?’

Kate had not really meant to put it all into the spoken word, but the words came out of her mouth unchecked. Part of her may even blame him for putting her in this position. If she had never met him, had never come to love him, then she would not face this dilemma. But that was stupid. This was all as much her fault as it was his, as in so far anyone could even talk about whose fault it was to love another person. Something told her that was rather an insane thing to be thinking. People did not always choose to love. They chose to acknowledge and act on it or not, but the loving itself was something over which she did not have much control.

This time it was Thorin who misinterpreted and Kate was not at all convinced that he misunderstood on purpose. His face had darkened and the advisor knew him long enough to know that this facial expression did not really mean well at all. ‘You would leave?’ he growled, reminding her of a hungry warg about to tear her limb from limb. And, even though he did not say it like that, what Kate heard was something else. ‘You would leave me?’

Shit. That had not been what she had meant at all. Of course she wasn’t planning on leaving him. If she had been harbouring such thoughts, then she would have never kissed him, would never have slept with him. She was a woman of her time, who did not quite have as much troubles with being intimate with someone before she was married – the dwarves clearly did have an issue with it though – but she was not the kind of woman who slept with someone only to dump him later either. That was not who she was and to be honest, she was disappointed that Thorin apparently thought she was.

On the other hand, was it really that strange that he was so, dare she say it, afraid of people turning their backs on him? She had to come to the conclusion that it wasn’t. She had seen it all for herself on the quest. Most of the folks they had encountered had been very reluctant to aid them, if they aided them at all. Thorin did not speak much of it, just on rare occasions, when she imagined frustration ruled supreme, but his face often spoke volumes. Balin had told her recently that Dáin’s refusal to help had made a mental scar as well. Dáin was family after all and Thorin was a firm believer of the idea that family should always help one another. The fact that Dáin had blatantly ignored Thorin’s plea for help – as in so far Thorin Oakenshield was capable of pleading with anyone anyway – had not helped things along at all. Never mind that elves and men were unwilling to risk their lives, even if they really ought to because of old alliances that were as blatantly ignored as Thorin’s demands of the Iron Hills, but it was not really their fight. Dwarves however should stick together and they had not. It was hardly a miracle Thorin was not amused now that he suspected her of pulling a Dáin on him.

‘Whoa, hold your horses! I said no such thing!’ she exclaimed, eager to put things right before they escalated. ‘I merely tried to confirm if that was what you were asking of me, to make sure we weren’t misunderstanding each other.’ Although she might have phrased it a bit more eloquently. Much as she hated to admit it, Thorin did have some ground to believe that she had indeed been meaning something else than what she had said.

Thorin merely nodded, but she wasn’t sure he bought what she had said. Something told her that he didn’t. Nevertheless, he answered her question. ‘Yes. That is what I’m asking.’ He was getting more eloquent, Kate noted, and that usually meant that he was less angry than he had been. Progress at last. Now that was a welcome thought indeed. At least he said more than just yes and no.

She remembered what Thorin had said in the movie. _Loyalty, honour, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that._ She did not even know if he had said that for real, given the fact that she had conveniently been hiding on Bilbo’s garden bench feeling sorry for herself. But he didn’t need to really have said it for her to understand that that was a rule he lived by. It was how his mind worked. And she may have been guilty of giving the impression that she had none of those characteristics at all. _Bugger!_ ‘Loyalty, honour and a willing heart, yes?’

The dwarf looked a tad bit puzzled for just a few seconds, confirming for her that he had indeed said those words and was now busy trying to work out how on earth she had known that he said it, since it obviously wasn’t in the book and she had not been there when he said it. Part of her expected him to ask how she knew, but apparently he changed his mind at the last possible second. ‘Aye.’

She shot him a questioning glance. _So, are we good again?_ It was important to know that, to know that this was just a misunderstanding and nothing more alarming.

Thorin clearly read her better than she read him, because he gave her another nod. Keep this up and his head would be doing the same movement still at next Durin’s Day, he was doing it so much today.

Kate felt reassured. ‘I’ll have to go back, just once,’ she said. Since they were discussing her future in this world, she might as well voice the idea Dwalin had planted in her head on the first day of the Search for the Door. One of these days she would have to thank him for it. And really, she should have discussed this with Thorin much sooner, but then, they had been too busy searching to think of much else – since the entire future depended on them finding that bloody door, so there was no use discussing a future that might not even happen – and there had been that unspoken fear of being sent away to reckon with, irrational though it might be. ‘If I’m going to live my life here, then I at least want to say my goodbyes, properly,’ she explained before Thorin could misunderstand her again. ‘I’m pretty sure Gandalf owes me a few, so he can arrange the whole thing.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t leave them in uncertainty forever, I just can’t. They mean too much to me. They’re owed some of my loyalty as well.’

 _Stop rambling, Andrews_. Yes, there was a need to explain this properly, but she was anxious and when she was, her words had the annoying tendency to come out too fast, almost incomprehensible.

Miracle of miracles Thorin seemed to have gotten the gist of it though. How he managed that was something of a mystery, but he had. ‘Then you’ll accept?’

It didn’t rank in the top ten of most stupid questions ever asked, but it did come close. _Of course I’ll accept, even if you had me ask the bloody question practically myself._ That was something she didn’t say though. Neither of them was good with the whole talking about feelings business and she could only imagine how difficult Thorin would have found it to ask. Feelings made one vulnerable, after all. You opened up to someone who could, if they wanted to, do a lot of harm. And Kate had a feeling her intended – well, he would be the moment she said yes – was more damaged in that department than she was.

At the same time she could not really be mad, not truly. This was not how she had ever thought someone would propose to her. Well, that was maybe not that strange. Once upon a time she had been led to believe that Marc was on the verge of proposing and since he was quite the romantic, Kate had anticipated red roses, a ring and poetry. She had never in a hundred years expected that she would one day end up practically asking the big question herself because her partner suddenly had lost the ability to speak eloquently. But then, she had never expected Marc to cheat on her either. Life had a strange way of surprising you, it would seem.

 _But it’s more fun this way_. It was one of her friend Laura’s favourite sayings. The girl practically had trouble written all over her and she certainly attracted it, courted it even. But she claimed that troubles were better than mundane and Kate now found herself agreeing with her. ‘Of course, you hairy idiot,’ she said. A simple yes was clearly beyond her, but who cared? It was so much more fun this way. And this was who she was with Thorin. Why would she change it when it actually was so much a part of who they were together?

And she was rewarded for her reply with that strange and yet unfamiliar goofy grin that she had only seen just a handful of times before. This had been the right choice to make, even if common sense scolded her for making the choice, reminding her that there was such a thing as family and that she was leaving them behind to marry a dwarf. Kate wished that common sense made up its mind. In the meantime she would not waste her time by listening to it. She had done that for far too long already.

‘So, does that mean we’re now engaged or something?’ she asked. After all, Dori may have lectured her on this whole subject, but Kate had not even pretended to be interested then, so she may be forgiven for not remembering a single word of it.

‘We are,’ Thorin confirmed. He still was not really in a talkative mood, but the twinkle was back in his eyes, whereas it had been missing before now.

She grinned. Smiling was quite out of the question now that she was feeling a bit too happy, happier than she probably had any right to be with that dragon still alive and their fates uncertain. But some things could not be helped and this was how she felt. She felt like she was living instead of surviving – no matter for how short that feeling would last – for a change. And she quite enjoyed the feeling. ‘You know, I quite like the sound of that.’

The arrival of the hobbit – an alive, singularly unharmed, still in once piece hobbit – stopped him from commenting on that.

 

***

 

Thorin would not deny that the return of Master Baggins was good news for the company. His relieved expression was all the confirmation all of them needed that things had gone well. He even seemed to bounce on his feet in excitement. In truth, he reminded the dwarf king a bit of a younger Kíli. When he had been sent to Balin to learn to read and write, he had been terrified, afraid he would never master it, afraid he would make a mess of it and would make a fool out of himself. He had been all but crying when Dís sent him on his way. When he came home he was a ball of youthful energy, because, miracle of miracles, he had been able to write his own name and Balin had said he had done well. Consequently they had been quite unable to shut him up for two days afterwards.

Master Baggins was no child anymore – even though he was as hairless as one – but his behaviour suggested otherwise. He seemed very pleased with his own performance and clearly did not mind a thing if others knew exactly how pleased. Thorin reckoned that it would be better than that snivelling he’d seen for a few weeks now. He had to be grateful mercies, something he’d grown rather used to after a lifetime of being deprived of home and riches.

It did not mean that he suddenly trusted the halfling. Despite his assurances that he would not do anything to make the book come true, that it was just an honest mistake, Thorin would like to have some evidence for that first. Maybe that made him a suspicious soul, but he was much rather suspicious than dead.

Fíli and Kíli were giving the burglar enthusiastic pats on the shoulder that had him almost falling to the ground with the sheer force of it. The lads were congratulating Mr Baggins on his safe return, equally big smiles on their faces. Youthful enthusiasm. They’d always had it, even when times were difficult. Like their mother they laughed even when there was no food or when the winter was so harsh that the cold crept into their bones. And Kate’s book predicted their deaths.

And Thorin would never stand for that. He would lock the lads inside the Mountain if an actual battle happened, or do something equally drastic if it really came to that. One thing was for sure though: the boys would not die for many years to come yet, not while he lived and breathed, not in battle, not as the result of the actions of one hobbit who apparently did not know what he was hired for in the first place.

‘Master Baggins!’ he boomed, effectively making sure that he had everyone’s attention all at once. At least he never had any trouble silencing a whole room with just a few words spoken at loud volume, accompanied by a demanding glare. Now all he needed to practise was his ability to make the occupants of aforementioned room do his bidding. If he had mastered that skill, he would have had an army to back him up in this quest and it was clear that he had no such thing.

The hobbit turned around, startled and with wide eyes. ‘Yes?’

‘Would you care to report your findings?’ he asked with a politeness that was more ice anyway.

Master Baggins nodded. ‘Perhaps we can all sit down?’

This was stalling, Thorin knew. His fists clenched almost of their own volition. Had that burglar now started to delude himself into thinking that he was in charge here? He sincerely hoped not. The dwarf king had not tolerated such behaviour from Gandalf and he sure was not going to tolerate it from one hobbit who evidently had been spending far too much time around the wizard.

The company moved to sit in a circle and Thorin prepared to do the same after he had collected his sword from the ground. He did not really think that he would be needing it, but it felt good to have it with him either way. And Mahal knew he was tempted to use a weapon on the burglar if he turned out to have done something as foolish as stealing something from the treasure to prove his worth as a burglar, as he had done in the book.

Kate was still standing behind him, an exasperated and almost mocking smile on her face. ‘I swear Bilbo thinks you’re going to have him for lunch, the way you glare at him. Poor thing is scared out of his wits, I reckon.’

Thorin could deal with much, had dealt with much, but what he could not handle was Kate belittling things as she clearly did now. She knew what was at stake here, better than anyone else in the company and yet she saw fit to mock it. He loved her, but this trait of hers was not anything less annoying than it had always been. ‘He should be,’ the dwarf said curtly. ‘It will stop him from taking things that do not belong to him.’

The advisor subjected him to a scrutinising glance. ‘You’re scared,’ she observed. ‘No, don’t bother to deny it. I’m not an idiot; I have eyes and intuition and everything. I threatened to throw Bilbo from the gate myself if he had the guts to act on that intention of his to make the book come true and I meant that, you know. I don’t think he would dare touch anything that was not his to take.’

Kate reminded him of a stern mother who was trying to order her child into letting him go of his fear, rather than soothing him into it. Well, soothing was not her way, he supposed, and there was some truth in what she had said, even though he may not admit to that willingly. ‘You cannot know,’ he reminded her. ‘He may already have stolen something.’ And woken the dragon in the same act, rendering all of their plans useless immediately.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘I’d rather like to think that if he had indeed tried to smuggle Thrór’s cup out underneath his shirt, we would have noticed that.’ She looked at his face and sighed. ‘Very well, we’ll ask him nicely if he has taken out something that was supposed to stay in. Gently, mind.’

Now it was Thorin’s turn to give her a scrutinising glance. ‘Why do you care so much for that burglar?’ he demanded. Should she not distrust him as Thorin himself did, for what he represented, for the harm he could cause if he chose to follow the book? Instead that strange fondness that she had for him seemed to have endured and he could not truly understand why that was the case.

Kate shrugged. ‘Not sure. Didn’t even realise I was caring for him until Lake-town, I think.’ She thought about it for a few seconds. ‘Maybe it’s because there are some similarities in our situation. You know, both of us dragged on a quest by a wizard for a task neither of us ever imagined to perform. Kindred spirits, if you like.’ She must have seen his shocked face, because she added: ‘To a certain extent of course. I, for one, didn’t fool myself into thinking it was my job to make the book come true. Oh, come on, Thorin, cut him some slack. He won’t try anything. He values his life.’

‘He values his hobbit hole in the Shire, his books and his seven meals a day,’ Thorin corrected, unable not to point that out to her.

‘Yeah, well, he needs a life to fully enjoy his comforts,’ Kate countered. ‘Will you please stop being a grumpy bastard all the time? It may look very kingly, but it does become tiring after a while. I have enough of Dori doing that all the time. God knows how much he kept nagging after he learned we two had already slept together.’

Thorin wasn’t the type to blush, but he would readily admit that he did not know how to handle Kate talking so freely about such intimate things. That was something that was not really done in the society he was born into. Kate however was from another land, another world, and her customs were vastly different from his.

‘Are you at liberty to talk of these things where you come from?’ he asked. They should probably need to sit down by now, but Dori had gone into what Kate referred to as his fuss-mode and insisted on getting some food into Mr Baggins before he made his report, so that he could calm his nerves. Nori’s comment that his nerves might need some calming down as well – after all he had been professionally worried that Bilbo would not be able to carry out his task the way he should – invoked his brother’s annoyance and he found himself soon looking at what shaped up to be another pointless and heated argument. It would be a while yet until they were able to talk business.

Kate nodded. ‘Well, let’s put it this way: you’d suffer a heart attack if you found out just how much we are allowed to talk about. Seriously, I strongly suspect you’d be shocked to death.’ For some reason it seemed to amuse her. In Thorin it just created the strong desire never to acquaint himself with that world.

And it seemed strange to him. He knew that the world he lived in was a harsh one and in many ways Kate’s seemed more gentle. She had never fought, had never had the need to, but then there were stories that made him rethink his assessment. He knew Kate’s father had left her mother, something that did not happen among his people. And that was just one thing. How could one such as Kate Andrews survive there and do reasonably well? Well, enough for her to miss it anyway. Maybe her tongue was more valuable a weapon in her world than the sword. It would explain a few things.

‘Shocked already, are you?’ Kate observed. ‘Be happy you don’t know all the facts. Come on, let’s sit down. We best stop Dori before he feels the need to rip Nori’s throat out.’ She cast a glance at her still arguing siblings. ‘That seems to be where they are headed, I’d say.’

Thorin decided that if things were truly were that bad, he much rather did not know at all. There were so many things about that world that he was not even sure he wanted to know about. But she would not go back to it, just once, to say goodbye. Thorin had the strong feeling that Kate had meant that as a condition for her to stay, even if that was not how she had phrased it. She had just said it.

And he was not happy about it. Loath as he was to admit it, the thought of Kate Andrews leaving, if only temporarily, was unpleasant. He would not label it crippling or painful, but unpleasant, yes, that would most certainly be true. It would be even more unpleasant because they were dependent on Gandalf’s magic and his willingness to allow such a thing. And Thorin did not think the wizard had ever intended for this to happen. If he frowned on it, as the dwarf king strongly suspected he did, would he let Kate return then? He doubted it.

And therefore he had every intention of accompanying her on that visit himself. It was not because he wanted to go there, because he didn’t, but he’d go with Kate. He needn’t be away for too long and Balin could easily take care of the most important things in the meantime. Balin had been the one to point out to him that he would have earned the right to make some controversial decisions after the Mountain was reclaimed, and he had every intention of making a fair few, no matter what Dáin and his Iron Hills dwarves thought. They had lost every right they had to decide what should happen when they turned their backs on their kinsmen in exile.

‘Are you even listening?’ A hand was waved in front of his face and he found Kate staring at him inquisitively.

‘Yes,’ he replied curtly.

That made her eyebrows shoot up. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

He shook his head. ‘No.’ His anger had come up at the thought of Dáin’s cowardice, of so many people’s cowardice, leading to him being here with only a small company to take back the greatest of dwarf kingdoms that still remained after the fall of Khazad-Dûm. They were content to sit back and let others do the dirty work and they had not even seemed too keen on anyone going up against Smaug for a start. As far as they were concerned, the firedrake was welcome to live out his days sleeping on the treasure of their ancestors. And that was the very thing Thorin could not ever stand for.

A frown appeared on Kate’s forehead. ‘Are you going to tell me some time?’

Thorin gave a curt nod. ‘I will.’

‘Just not now,’ Kate understood.

She did not even seem surprised. When had she learned to read him as well as she did?

Kate shrugged. ‘Sometimes you’re an open book.’

She left them to think about that and took the spot Bombur had left open for her, leaving Thorin to take the only other still vacant spot between Dori and Bofur. Bofur was not that bad, but Thorin objected to Dori’s presence. Kate’s brother was already in a foul mood – courtesy of his little brother – and he had never made it a secret that he disagreed with his sister’s choice in partner. Kate had asked him to stay out of it, but that didn’t mean that he would do as he was told. Disobedience was a trait that ran in the family, even if they were no blood relatives.

And that was why it was probably best to not give him an excuse to comment on what he thought was and wasn’t prudent. There was a dragon to be slain and they could not afford to make even a single mistake. If they failed, all of them would die and Thorin had seen enough of his kin’s behaviour to know that after him no one else would take the risk. Erebor did not matter to them as it did to him. And that was why it had to be his task to give them back the home they should never have lost in the first place.

The number of dwarves who remembered Erebor had been dwindling for years. They had been reduced by war – the Battle of Azanulbizar being the biggest culprit – hunger and orc raids. Others had died of old age. It made the dwarf king feel old, but he had to admit that he was not the youngest dwarf to walk the earth anymore. The younger generation did not remember and Thorin knew that many of them were content with their lot. They had never known any better, so they did not know what they missed. Could he truly fault them for not knowing? No, he could not, but it was his duty as king to give them more than they had. And therefore he had to succeed. It felt like the weight of the Mountain had been loaded onto his shoulders.

Thorin looked at the hobbit. ‘Master Baggins, what are your findings?’ he demanded.

Normally Bilbo Baggins would have cowered away before him whenever he spoke in that way, especially since he had read Kate’s book and had started to fear that Thorin could throw him off the Mountain at any time. Today however not even his most icy tone of voice could pierce through his armour of happiness, protecting him from the sting Thorin’s words were trying deal him. It vexed the dwarf that the hobbit was so carefree, careless even. He acted as if nothing could harm him. Kate may like him and even Thorin had to admit that they owed the halfling a few debts. He had saved Thorin’s life in the Misty Mountains, he had set Mirkwood and wargs alike on fire with a bravery Thorin had not often witnessed before and he had freed them all from Thranduil’s dungeons. Those were memorable achievements, but Thorin could not help but feel that he still did not truly understand what they were up against, even now that he had presumably seen Smaug for himself. He was still waiting for the report that would confirm this.

But Bilbo Baggins didn’t need to be told twice today, which was a novel thing in and out of itself. ‘The dragon is there,’ he reported, which was rather obvious to anyone with any intelligence to speak of.

He looked at Dwalin at the other end of the circle and could see that his friend was none too pleased with the report either. ‘Aye, Mr Baggins, we reckoned so. What else?’ At least that saved Thorin the need to ask it himself again.

Something in the tone of voice got through to the hobbit, because suddenly he looked a bit more like himself, flustered and a tad bit nervous, while angry at the same time. Sometimes Thorin suspected it was his default setting. ‘Yes, _yes_ , I was getting there,’ he said irritably. It reminded Thorin of a conversation he had once overheard between the advisor and the burglar in the Misty Mountains, when Master Baggins had been reporting how he had sneaked past the goblins to retrieve the wizard. He had sounded exactly like he sounded now, far too pleased with himself and his own performance. ‘It took a great deal of sneaking, I’ll have you know, and all of it in the dark.’

‘We know that already.’ Now that he had put his mind to the task he found his patience rapidly running out. He had waited a lifetime for this an now that the moment was here, he wanted to get it all going. If the hobbit was seeking to be praised to the skies, he should find himself a more willing audience. Thorin had no time for it.

‘Try to keep it brief,’ Kate advised, smiling in a reassuring manner. ‘I’d love to hear the rest of the story, but not now.’

Thorin’s jaw was in danger of dropping in a very unkingly manner. He knew a great many things about Kate Andrews these days, but she had never been known to be diplomatic. Kate usually charged in like a rock avalanche, taking down everything in her path, not caring about the damage she made. But that was changing now and he didn’t know what to make of it. Sometimes she reminded him of a queen, sometimes. The rest of the time she was herself, something Thorin found he actually preferred.

At least her request had the desired effect. Bilbo was far more forthcoming with his information than he had been before, relaying that he had sneaked down to the treasury and had found the dragon there, sleeping. Here he was in danger of elaborating again, but Thorin glared him into going on without any further pointless details. He’d heard enough of those.

And it was a relief to hear that Smaug was still sleeping. If they moved quick, then they might be able to kill him before he even woke. Thorin had always been taught that killing one’s enemy in their sleep was dishonourable, one of the worst sins he could commit. But Smaug had killed so many and being here only brought those memories to the forefront of his mind. He could not care about killing this foe while he was still sleeping.

‘Was there a weak spot?’ he questioned when the hobbit finally ceased his rambling to take a breath. Both of them had read the book and knew that the story spoke of a weak point on Smaug’s chest, where his armour did not cover him. That would be their best chance, although Thorin could think of a few other options still open to them. The eyes were vulnerable as well, if they would ever manage to reach them. With the firedrake still deep in slumber that was a possibility, but he was loath to come to close to Smaug’s mouth for fear of being burned to death before he could land his blow, for he was still determined to slay the beast by himself.

Bilbo’s nod and glance in the dwarf’s direction told him that he knew what Thorin meant. ‘His armour is damaged,’ he reported. ‘There is a small weak spot on his chest. And he’s not lying on it. In fact, I think that an arrow or a sword should be able to pierce it.’

It was what he had been hoping for. For the first time it seemed like a true possibility instead of a hopeless dream, an attempt that was doomed before it had even started.

And he was not the only one affected by the hopefulness of Mr Baggins’s words. His sister-sons had started to practically glow with excitement, all their dignity – as in so far present in the first place – forgotten.

‘If there’s a weak spot…’ Fíli mused.

‘… Then he can be killed,’ Kíli finished.

Kate commented with a wry ‘Bravo, Sherlock’ that was all but drowned out in the general noise that followed that realisation.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _Mahal give that we will be successful_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: entering the dragon’s lair. Please review?


	67. The Dragon's Tail

_There was a good deal of excitement in the camp after the realisation that it may not be that impossible after all to kill a dragon and we started on the plans how to approach and attack Smaug almost right away. I myself was affected by the contagious atmosphere, but I must admit it was a strange sort of excitement, because it was laced with fear. Even though there was the possibility that we could indeed kill the dragon, there was also a very real possibility that one of us, over even all of us if it really went pear-shaped, would die._

_It is very difficult to describe it, my dears. The best thing I could compare it with was the nervous anticipation there was before your first real campaign, Thoren. The orcs ransacking the area were particularly vicious and everyone knew that not all warriors setting out to deal with them would return home. At the same time though we had good hope that, even though we would suffer losses, probably quite severe, we would come out victorious, because our army had a fair number of advantages. You were so excited to be able to be a part of it all, so proud to be counted among the adults and yet scared, even though you didn’t say so. Before you ask, my son, it is a mother’s job to know what her child is feeling and your face was an open book._

_And there is no shame in being frightened. I think, deep down, all of us were. It simply was not spoken of, as if by some unspoken decree. It almost felt that if we would formally acknowledge the fear, it would doom us to lose and die the next day. But it was there all the same, even though you had to look well to see it. Fíli and Kíli went rather quiet after their initial enthusiasm, sharpening swords and axes in a complete and very uncharacteristic silence. Dwalin joined them after a while, sending foul glances at anyone who appeared to be too cheerful. Dori and Nori reacted by arguing so much that they drove everyone crazy until Balin, normally the dwarf most in control of his temper, lost it and snapped at them to keep it down. Óin and Glóin kept to their own, muttering in their beards. The former did not even pretend that he was deaf when Balin asked him to pass the firewood. Bofur, usually the most talkative of the lot, was silent, carrying out a forensic study of his hat and Bombur expressed his fear by declaring that he was not hungry at supper. Ori simply buried his nose in a book and did not look up for the rest of the day. Escapism, escaping from the real world by losing oneself into a fictional one. How I wished I was able to do the same._

_Instead I took up my role of social worker once more, because your father had descended into one of his taciturn moods again. You are not very familiar with those, I know. You might even wonder why I keep mentioning them when you have so little seen your father acting in such a way. There is a simple answer to that, sweethearts: you were born after the Mountain was retaken and even though this did not mean that Thorin’s responsibilities were lessened in any way, they were of a different nature altogether and there no longer was the pressure of knowing that one failure on his part could bring ruin and death to his people. That pressure was still there when we prepared to fight Smaug._

_Consequently neither of us slept a wink that night, even though we had to cut back on the conversation if we didn’t want to wake the others. Of course one could always ask oneself how many of the others were actually sleeping; there was a remarkable absence of snores that night, which really told me everything I needed to know. I think that most of us were just staring up at the stars, wondering if we would still be there to look at them some other night._

_For some reason I had never really allowed myself to think about the possibility of dying, but there was no escaping it anymore then and as a result I found myself once again nauseous with nerves. All night I kept imagining worst case scenarios and the worst cases grew ever worse as time passed on. I think that I was even relieved when the first light arrived and I had a good excuse to get up…_

 

Kate Andrews was not the type to be nervous. Everyone said it – her mother, her brother, her friends – and therefore it must be true. Well, that was what she had believed anyway. But she had gone through a great many changes since she had first arrived in Middle Earth and a good deal of truths about her character, about what she would and would not do, no longer held true at all. She had changed too much.

Admittedly she had a great deal more to be nervous about in this world. The worst thing that could have happened to her back at home was missing a deadline for an article and that was hardly life-threatening. In Middle Earth however worst case scenarios had less to do with missed deadlines and articles and more with waking dragons and being burned to cinders in less than a second. Those things were wholly different.

Thorin, trying to go into fuss-over-the-delicate-female-mode, had tried to make her stay back when the rest of them went in to face the dragon. Kate had slapped it down. As afraid as she was to face Smaug and contribute to the mission, she had also sworn an oath to make this quest her own. In her opinion that didn’t mean she could sit back and let others do the dirty work if she so desired. It was her duty now as much as it was Thorin’s.

But she had more motives for acting as she did and most of those she was not going to share with Thorin. The first and foremost was, strangely enough, fear of Smaug. If her companions accidentally drove him out, chances were that he would come straight to the doorstep, where she would be. If that was to happen, she was as good as dead anyway. And there was a possibility, she supposed, since the Smaug in the book had indeed tried to burn the company when they were still at the door.

The second motivation she had for not wanting to stay behind sounded rather morbid, even to her own ears, which was why she would never voice it. But they were trying to change the book by taking on the firedrake by themselves and there was every chance that they would fail in that attempt, even though there was an equally big chance of getting out alive again. But if that was not to be, and all her friends would die today, Kate was quite sure that she was not to be left all alone. The prospect was too horrible. Sole survivor of the dragon may have a nice ring to it, but she was sure that the reality of it was a lot less pleasant. And she was cowardly enough not to want to live with the consequences of her failure.

Choosing death over life. It sounded even more morbid when she properly thought about it, but that was the way of it. And of course she had a family to return to even if it went all horribly wrong today. It would be selfish to choose death when they might be so afraid that she was indeed dead. She had made a promise when she set out on this quest, a promise to return home if only she could. But it was a foolish promise, the promise of a little girl, because who knew really what the future would bring? It had long since become obvious to her that even she, with all her knowledge of book and movie, could not truly predict what was in the future. It was a sobering thought as well as a hugely terrifying one.

And the anticipation made her restless. Thorin had finally fallen asleep an hour before the dark blue sky turned a lighter shade of blue and Kate envied him for that. But he had been a poor and restless sleeper for most of the past few weeks, ever since they had come to the Mountain. First it had been the search for the door that kept him up at night and now it was the fear of what they would find inside.

Of course Thorin had not told her this himself. Of course he had not told her this in person. He was too proud to admit that he too may sometimes need to show some weakness. Good thing then that she had months to complete her course of how to read Thorin Oakenshield. She might have made a mess of things otherwise. At least she knew how to handle the dwarf now, more or less.

When all of this was over and if they had the good fortune of being still alive to tell the tale, they might have to have another conversation. As it was, Kate thought they were a rather dysfunctional couple, an unconventional couple at the very least. They would need to work out what to do with themselves when things would quieten down, if that ever happened. But there was always something that intervened, always one crisis that was more important than having that conversation. Right now it was the dragon, and after that it may be something else. And neither of them were talkers when it came to feelings; they may try to avoid the tricky subject yet again. It was who they were.

 _Let’s live through today first_ , she told herself. _One step at a time_. And that meant that she would leave Thorin to sleep for another few hours. He was going to need his rest if they were going in today. For her it did not really matter that she had not gotten any real rest at all. Before now she would have been extremely moody and exhausted after not getting the rest she should, but living in the wilds had been a good way of changing habits. She could do without one night. And there may not even be another night, something she tried not to think about overly much.

Besides, it seemed to have been decided that she was not to go anywhere near the dragon. Thorin and Dori had done a good deal of talking, and the handshake she had seen at the end of that conversation implied that the two had reached an agreement. Kate dreaded to think what about. It was not as if she was so anxious to risk her life, but she was tired of the special treatment. If she was to remain with Thorin for the rest of her days, she had to prove that she was worthy of it. Of course, there was no way she needed to prove anything to Thorin or the members of the company, but she would need to show his people her worth and aiding in defeating a dragon would surely not go amiss on her curriculum vitae. It might not stop those people from thinking what they would be thinking, but it would help. And all help was welcome in this case.

She looked out over the desolation, a bit away from the rest of the camp. It looked so deserted, so lonely. That was the only word that really seemed to fit this barren wasteland. She had tried to imagine it green and fertile, with pines on the slopes of the Mountain and grass and bushes covering the ground below. Kate couldn’t see it. All she saw when she looked down was death: dead bushes, scorched and blackened earth and maybe a stubborn patch of grass that had braved the destruction around it. But when Balin and Thorin spoke of what they remembered, they were happy memories. Well, Thorin wasn’t much for speaking, she found. Sometimes she felt as if she was literally dragging information from his lips and most of her knowledge about earlier times was deducted from wistful glances and remarks that he made before he could stop himself. Balin was a more willing source of information. He liked to talk, which was more than could be said for the dwarf king. Sometimes Kate wondered why Tolkien had described him as the kind of dwarf who liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

‘What are you singing, lass?’

Kate swivelled around to see that she was no longer alone. Dwalin, who surely had not slept either, since his snores had been remarkably absent last night, came to stand next to her. ‘Good morning to you as well,’ she muttered, not exactly in a hurry to show him just how much he had taken her by surprise. After all, she might face a lecture about not paying attention to her surroundings in that case, and it vexed Kate that he would be wholly justified in saying it. She could handle critique just fine, but it lost its purpose when the recipient already was aware of the fact that they had messed up. No need to rub her nose in it then.

Fortunately it was not one of those days. ‘What were you singing?’ he repeated.

Or maybe he was just curious, Kate observed. At the same time she felt herself blush bright crimson in embarrassment. It had been one of her bad habits for years, wordlessly humming songs when she was deep in thought. It had taken her years to break herself of the habit, since it was rather rude when in company. Only occasionally would she still do it. Today was such an occasion.

‘Song from my world,’ she replied. ‘Sorry about that. I hadn’t realised I was doing it.’ Which was doubtlessly the most embarrassing part of it. Dwalin must think her mad. Of course dwarves liked music – the singing of songs at the campfire night after night had taught her that – so he was hardly going to fault her for singing, but singing when you didn’t even realise you were doing it? _Well, I was going to be a patient for the mental asylum anyway. Might as well do it thoroughly. People will think I’m out of my mind no matter what I do._

Dwalin and she had a truce, if it could indeed be called a truce. Kate still did not always know what to make of the warrior. He clearly was in the possession of a brain, clearly was utterly loyal to Thorin and clearly was the best and most skilful warrior in the company, but that was as far as her knowledge went. What he thought of her was as much of a mystery as it had ever been. Sometimes he would give the impression he’d much rather be rid of her and then suddenly there was a remark like the one he had made to Nori, that she was a future queen – something she much rather did not contemplate altogether; the thought was a tad bit frightening – and that she ought to be treated with more respect because of that. Her life would be remarkably easier if she could look inside his head and find out what exactly he thought about her. At least then she knew where she stood. Right now, she had no idea.

‘What about?’ he questioned.

 _I’ve got a sixth thing about dwarves: they’re all annoyingly curious_. ‘Just a song that got stuck in my head. Did I wake you?’

The warrior shook his head. ‘No, you did not.’

Nerves, Kate knew. They had taken up residence in her stomach as well, and they were good tenants; they didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave, effectively assuring that she was in danger of being in a constant state of being nauseous. How she wished that this was all over and she actually could work up an appetite again. How she wished that she could close her eyes, open them again to find the whole ordeal having passed her by. But she would have no such luck. _Live through the day and everything will be fine_ , she told herself. It may be a lie and it may be as much escapism as Ori losing himself in _Pride and Prejudice_ , but it was helping her to hang on to her sanity.

‘What song was it?’ Dwalin asked again, ever the insistent one. ‘I’d bribe you with rabbit, but…’

It drew a chuckle from Kate. ‘I’m not that good a singer,’ she said. Still, she smiled, the memory of Kíli bribing her into singing with a rabbit that he was not even certain would be there brought back to the forefront of her mind. It was a welcome distraction after all the misery they had gone through, would have to go through this day. That was escapism too, she supposed, but she did not care. She would use whatever she could get her through this day with her sanity intact. And she was already different from who she had been. The old Kate would have put her foot down and refused point blank to even come anywhere that dragon, never mind that she would have insisted to come with them.

 

_‘Brother, stand beside me, brother, lend your arm._

_Brother, stand beside me, brother, lend your arm._

_The land below lies stricken,_

_And this fight has nearly come._

_Let them sing, let them sing our praises when we’ve gone.’_

 

She looked at Dwalin. ‘That was what I was singing,’ she explained, although there was a good chance he had actually worked that out for himself. She had not even been thinking about it when she started humming it – she had not even chosen to start humming in the first place – but it seemed to fit. Maybe it was this bleak environment that had brought it on, but she could not be sure. It spoke of hope and despair at the same time, she thought. _Let them sing our praises when we’ve gone._ It almost seemed to imply that she thought they would soon be gone, not something they were really hoping for. ‘Forget it. It’s just a song.’

She turned around and walked away to camp, to help Bombur with breakfast, leaving Dwalin to think whatever it was that he wanted to think. At least then she would be doing something useful. No one would be helped if she dampened their spirits even further. No matter how real the possibility of dying was, they should not spend any time thinking about it. If they did not even believe in what they were doing, then how would they ever succeed? They could be their own worst enemies or their best helpers. Kate much rather helped herself than that she lessened their chances of success.

‘Morning, Kate,’ Bofur greeted when she joined them. ‘Ready?’

‘Sure,’ she told him and left it at that. She was trying to help, not to try and discourage them, as would be realistic.

‘Should you be coming with us?’ Bombur wondered. He looked at her doubtfully. ‘No offence, but…’

‘You have been listening too much to my brother,’ Kate said dismissively. She liked Bombur, she really did, but she had heard the complaints and objections from Dori enough. Thorin thought them; he knew better by now than to try and convince her of something she did not want to do, which Kate considered progress in and out of itself. ‘I’m not made of porcelain. Besides, I’ve got a mean right hook. I thought Balin was the one to believe I could knock out dragons with that?’ She did remember having a conversation like that in Bag End. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it sounded even more stupid now than it had done then already.

The laughter that followed it sounded too loud and too cheerful to Kate’s ears. It felt forced too. It was as if all of them were searching for a good excuse to laugh in order to forget the dangers that awaited them in the Mountain itself. It didn’t do anything to boost her self-confidence. There was no confidence among her friends, not anymore. There had been, when the door was first found and the dragon was tomorrow’s concern. But there was no escaping the beast now and they would have to face it, even when that made them want to do a runner in the opposite direction. None of them were going to back out though. They were nothing like Dáin, Thranduil or Lord Erland. That alone was sufficient to make Kate feel quite a bit better about herself and her own abilities. At least they were trying, which could not be said of so many others.

But she did not feel quite at ease and so she accepted her breakfast before walking back to the spot where she had stood before. She accepted the food for form’s sake, but she wasn’t hungry. But Dori would start nagging if he didn’t see her eat something and Bombur would go on and on about her being too skinny already. Now it simply disappeared into her pocket and no one need ever find that out. Maybe, if – _when_ , she had to think when or lese she’d run mad – the dragon was defeated, then she might actually feel like eating again. As it was, she had no appetite at all. How could she, when her stomach was full with nerves?

‘You should eat,’ Thorin’s voice told her. One glance told her he too clearly did not feel like keeping company today, so now he sought out hers. But if he thought he was going to get away with nagging in a very Dori-like manner, then he had another thing coming.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she informed him. _What’s new?_ ‘But I’m saving it for when I am.’ _After the dragon is killed._ ‘At least I’m not trying to pass it off to Ori.’

‘When the dragon is killed,’ Thorin understood. Shit, since when did he know how to read her? She thought she was the only one who got to read others. Apparently Thorin was getting the hang of it too.

She shrugged. ‘Something like that. I’m just nervous, like everyone else.’ There was no denying that, not when Dori and Nori were giving an excellent demonstration of just how nervous they were by getting into another pointless argument. ‘When all this mess is over, I think you should banish one of my brothers from the kingdom, send one of them on some very special mission far, far away, or they’ll rip each other’s throat out before long.’

It brought a smile to the dwarf’s face, a very small one. ‘ _Let them sing our praises when we’ve gone_?’ he asked.

Kate sighed. ‘You were listening.’ When he didn’t even bother to deny it, or favour her with a reply at all, she added: ‘You know this thing about private conversations is that they are usually private. Eavesdropping is rather unbecoming in a king.’ She tried to keep up the banter, but it sounded as forced as her friends’ laughter. And she should know by now that trying to distract Thorin when he was on the scent was as good as impossible. He was a dwarf of course and dwarves were nothing if not stubborn. Thorin was in no way an exception to that rule.

‘Are you doubting our success?’ he asked softly, so that none of the others could pull a Thorin and overhear something not meant for their ears.

‘Aren’t you?’ she countered. She was not going to lie. Both of them had read the book and both of them knew what might happen should they fail. Their own lives as well as the destruction of an entire town were at stake. She did not believe for a second that Smaug would be so stupid that he could not work it out for himself. Anyway, maybe it was best to assume the worst. That way the reality was always looking better. _A real pessimist in the making right here._ ‘Don’t worry, I won’t go telling the rest.’ That way at least she pre-empted his protest, because that was bound to come.

Well, she did not pre-empt it entirely. ‘Do you believe that we are doomed to fail?’

Maybe she was only getting this pessimistic because she was hanging around the Master Pessimist too much. Thorin surely did know how to assume the worst. ‘What? _No_!’ she exclaimed, too loud, since a lot of heads suddenly looked in her direction. She lowered her voice. ‘I think we _do_ stand a chance. I’m just not certain how big that chance it. But Bilbo says the dragon is still sleeping and has left his weak spot wide open for us. We do stand a good chance.’ _If I do not believe that, I am sure to lose my mind_. Kate looked at the dwarf. ‘But you think that, don’t you?’ she observed. She wondered if he had always believed that he was doomed to fail, or whether her book might have something to do with it as well. She strongly suspected that it indeed had.

This time she received only a curt nod for her troubles, which was a clear sign that Thorin was slipping away into one of his moods again. He may have doubted already, but she was bound to have made things worse with her own doubts. _Oh, bugger! Why can’t I just think before my mouth runs away with me again?_

‘Well, you’d better make sure the others don’t see you like this,’ she hissed. ‘You’re their bloody leader. They’re looking at you!’ She had to control the volume of her voice before they would do literally so. ‘And you’re being far too pessimistic for your own good, so will you kindly just snap out of it?’

Still no reaction. Oh, she loved this dwarf, she really, truly did, but when he had moods like this, she didn’t know what to do with him. It was like he retreated into his own mind and there was precious little that could bring him back to the here and now before he was good and ready and only heaven knew how long that could take. They really did not have the time for this right now.

Precious little may snap him out of that brooding of his, but Kate was one of the lucky few who knew how to do it, even if she had discovered this method quite by accident and he sure as hell wasn’t going to thank her for doing it. And it was for his own good. She would pick up the pieces when all was well again. ‘I never took you for a bloody coward, Thorin Oakenshield!’ she hissed angrily. ‘Are you now throwing the towel in without having even tried? You disappoint me.’

That did the trick, as she had known it would. Still, she didn’t feel proud of her achievement. It felt too much like pre-Rivendell, like word and mind games. And she absolutely despised those; in her time here she had come to associate those with the people who were not on their side.

And Thorin was not amused. He rounded on her, eyes blazing in anger. ‘You dare to accuse me when you sing of defeat before we have even begun?’ When he was really angry – not just plain angry, but well and truly riled – Thorin did not shout. He whispered. He whispered then. It absolutely terrified her.

Thank the heavens for lifelong habits. Kate had gotten into far too many fights with her father to hide away in the face of another person’s harsh words. It was almost instinct to react. ‘That wasn’t all of the song, you bloody fool,’ she snapped back. ‘There are three more verses. And I am not throwing in the towel. I’m coming down with you, remember? Or that that little fact conveniently escaped your mind?’ And she meant that. She may not be brave and she would never excel in swinging a sword around, but it was the intention that counted. And she fully intended to make this work if she could.

Thorin did not seem to be in the forgiving mood. ‘What other verses?’

Of course he would want to hear. Well, no escaping it now. She might as well do it and hope that would calm his frayed nerves.

 

_‘Brother, stand beside me, brother, lend your arm._

_Brother, stand beside me, brother, lend your arm._

_See the weakness in the world,_

_And choose to be strong._

_Let them sing, let them sing our praises when we’ve gone.’_

 

This was not a fairy-tale and so Thorin did not immediately forgive her, nor was he entirely over his anger, but the smallest hint of a smile appeared on his face and he nodded. That should be enough to be getting on with.

 

***

 

Breakfast was a silent affair. There was not much talking; no one seemed to be in the mood for it and everyone merely concerned themselves with eating or, as Kate would phrase it, carrying out a forensic study of their food. A general lack of appetite seemed to have plagued the company; even Bombur ate no more than three bites.

Thorin himself was not really in the mood for conversation himself. _You disappoint me_. That was what Kate had said when she was hissing at him in anger, the way she might have done before they made their alliance, in the period he referred to as pre-Rivendell. But before Rivendell he had not cared. He did now. And he knew Kate well enough to know that she meant it when she spat out words like that. She was entirely serious.

And that hurt. It hurt more than he believed to be possible. _You disappoint me_. It had nothing to do with the fact that it had been one of his father’s favourite phrases to hurl at him when he had fallen short again. When he failed to find work and there was no money and no food as a consequence, when he was beaten in a training session, when he was not strong enough to shoulder all the responsibility he had been given by himself. _You disappoint me_. For a moment the tone of voice and the words were so like Thráin that Thorin was almost fooled into believing that it was his father who was standing there.

But it was not Thráin, it was Kate, who shouted – or would have done if she could have done it without alerting everyone near them – at him for giving up before he had even really begun. The worst part was that she was partly right too. He _had_ allowed himself to lose heart. _Let them sing our praises when we’ve gone_. Kate had sounded as if they were marching to their doom, one of those legendary quests where the heroes died and the only thing that remained of them were the tragic songs in their honour. The kind of songs that were being sung about Durin VI and the fall of Khazad-dûm. Were they doomed to a similar fate: to be slaughtered by a beast that was too fearsome for them to defeat? Were they doing the right thing by attacking Smaug on their own?

‘You’re doing it again,’ Kate remarked as they broke up camp. ‘It’s not going to get us anywhere. Listen, for all we know we get ourselves worked up over nothing. For all we know that beast is still playing the Sleeping Beauty down there and we get it before anything can even go wrong.’

Thorin checked his sword and sheathed it. ‘Are you a social worker?’ he asked gruffly, not meeting her eyes. The argument was still too present in his mind. _You disappoint me_.

‘No, I’m a wannabe social worker who’s done something very stupid. I’ve done quite a few stupid things of late. Most recently I said a lot of things I didn’t mean to a certain dwarf, a dwarf I happen to care about an awful lot.’ Thorin turned to look at her and she did look apologetic. ‘I’m sorry.’

He frowned. ‘I beg your pardon?’ This was unexpected.

The well-known irritation came back. ‘You heard me. I’m not going to say it twice.’

Aye, he had heard her. What he didn’t know was why she spoke as she did. She had seemed angry before, about to leave him. Now she was saying she didn’t mean it? Something told him that if this was a female thing, he still had a very long way to go. Dís had her moods as well, but Thorin had always assumed she was one of a kind. It might turn out he was wrong in that assumption.

He reckoned that he would sound like a child if he pointed out to her that it had not sounded like she didn’t mean it and so he refrained from saying it. ‘Why did you say it?’ he asked instead.

‘To snap you out of your mood,’ she replied. ‘With a poor choice of words apparently. I should not have called you a coward. It was mean and not true. And for that I am sorry.’

She meant that, he supposed. When he came to think of it, he remembered times when he had been miles away and one of the things that pierced through the haze was an insult from Kate. But she had never been known to throw insults around for this specific purpose. That was something entirely new.

‘I thought you told me you were not going to say it twice?’ he said, arching an eyebrow.

‘Ha ha,’ Kate reacted wryly. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ When Thorin did not bother with a reply, she looked at him, a bit hesitantly. ‘So, are we good again?’

 _You disappoint me_. A simple apology did not erase the harsh words from her lips and he had a bit difficulty with accepting that she had truly not meant them. It had not sounded like that. And she had truly been angry. Maybe she did not mean the words now that she was calm again, but she had certainly meant them then. And that was what he could not forget, especially because he was not all that certain that she was wrong in her assessment of him.

‘We are,’ he told her.

He found himself on the receiving end of one of her most disapproving stares. ‘Would you do me the courtesy of not lying to me at the very least?’ Hurt was too obvious to miss. ‘Please? I understand if you’re mad at me, I really do. What I did was below the belt and I should never have said it at all.’ She was starting to ramble, like she tended to do when she felt she had said something unforgivable and she was trying to make up for it. ‘It’s just that I don’t want to go in there without making up.’

 _I don’t want to die without having assured that everything is made right_. Thorin heard the words she didn’t speak and it felt like he had been plunged in ice water. Kate may have meant it when she said that there was a real chance to make it out alive again, but there was also a very real chance that neither of them would live to tell the tale and if that was the case, they wanted to have made it up. Thorin understood that, even if it did nothing to ensure him that he was doing the right thing.

Kate was prattling on, as she used to do, but Thorin wasn’t listening anymore. It was true, he belonged to a race that had long memory and could bear grudges better than any other race in Middle Earth. But if he were to die today, would he want to leave knowing that he had not mended all the fences he could have mended, if not for his pride? It may be undwarflike of him, but he found that he would rather forgive and forget and die in peace than die in regret because he could not have found it in himself to forgive the woman he would marry if they all survived this day.

‘Kate.’

Kate of course didn’t hear him. She was too preoccupied making excuses to hear him. It reminded Thorin of Mirkwood. And then it hit him: the Mirkwood solution. Besides, it was the best method of silencing Kate to date. It was difficult for her to talk when her lips were otherwise preoccupied. He noted wryly that Kate may be taking on some of his manners, but that he seemed to be adopting her sarcasm just as easily.

And so he kissed her, effectively silencing her, but mostly trying to convey that which he was unable to translate into the spoken word. But Kate would understand. For some reason she always understood him better than most people, with Balin and Dís being the exception.

Kate seemed to understand what he was trying to do. At least she did not resist, quite the contrary. She kissed him back, passionately, desperately, making the dwarf feel as if the message had indeed come across and they were, at least for the moment, all right again.

‘So, does that mean we’re good again?’ she asked when he ended the kiss.

Thorin nodded. ‘It does.’

Kate shook her head in what appeared to be exasperation. ‘If there was a course detailing how to deal with you, I’d go on it right away.’ But she was smiling and that took the edge off the words. ‘You know, normal people say what they mean.’

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her. ‘I did say what I meant.’ _But not in words_.

The advisor thought about that for a moment and then she nodded. ‘I believe you did indeed. Silly old me for not realising.’

He scowled at her. ‘You are not old.’ Not yet. But she would be soon. It was the way of her kind. If they survived this, there would be a few decades, five of them, maybe six if they were really lucky, but that was it.

‘And I’m not going to be for a long time, thank you very much. If you want old, you should see that dragon down there. Now, that’s what I call old.’

‘Are the two of you coming or not?’ Nori called impatiently, probably anxious to get away from his brother. Thorin sympathised. He loved Kate, but he could have done without her family, young Ori being the exception. Nori had too big a mouth and to think that Dori was even worse. It made fighting a dragon look like a healthy prospect. ‘And can you not do that kissing thing right in front of me, please?’

Kate sent him a withering look. ‘We’re not “right in front of you,” thank you very much,’ she snapped back. ‘And if you don’t want to see it, I suggest you look away. No one is actually forcing you to watch anything, you know. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.’

Thorin decided to step in before these two could argue to their heart’s content. It were nerves, he knew, with all of them. And there was no turning back. If they were going up against Smaug, they might as well get it over with. He had waited for well over a century and a half to get here and now he would do what his grandfather and father had dreamed of. They had passed the feud with the beast on to him and he would not disappoint them.

‘Come,’ he said.

Nori had been about to place another remark, but he refrained from it when Thorin fixed him with a glare that rivalled Kate’s for intensity. They were finding excuses to delay, all of them, and he would not stand for it any longer. They would either live or die and it was best to get in there and do what needed to be done. Delaying would not do them any good at all; it only served to undermine what little confidence they had still left. He only regretted that it was necessary to lead others into this. If only he could, he would slay the beast before anyone else could get killed. Too many had already died in Smaug’s fires and he would not add one other if he could help it.

‘Master Baggins, would you care to lead the way?’ he asked.

The hobbit seemed to tremble at the very prospect, but he nodded, that look of fierce determination on his face. When Kate had said that the hobbit had found his courage, she had not been mistaken. He seemed to have found a purpose as well. The dwarf only hoped that his purpose would not endanger any of his men, or him. There was still no telling what the halfling was planning and therefore he would proceed with caution, a lot of caution.

They took torches for the first part of the journey, because the tunnels were very dark. Thorin followed closely behind Bilbo and left Kate – or maybe abandoned Kate was a more apt description – in her brothers’ care. She may have insisted on accompanying them, but he would not let her anywhere near the dragon if he could help it. He would leave her with Kíli once they started for real. That would keep his sister-son out of the fray as well and he was not as weak that he could not stand his own ground if a situation asked for it. Thorin did not dare even remind himself that no amount of training would avail him when Smaug did set his eyes on Kíli and Kate. Experienced fighters had died in the blink of an eye when the firedrake invaded Erebor, warriors who had well over a century of experience under their belts. They had not stood a chance. Who was he to think that he could do this?

But he would not turn back and he would not give up until the monster was dead. It was a vow he had made and he would stand by it. If there was any chance of him giving his people back what was theirs, was that not a risk worth taking? He knew it was.

They had lived in the Ered Luin for far too long. It had become a home for the younger generation, but only because they did not truly know what it was that they were missing. They did not know any better, but Thorin did. And they deserved more than meagre dwellings and the scorn of men and elves. They deserved the glory of Erebor and its riches. And if he had any say in the matter, he would give them back what rightfully belonged to them.

‘How far down?’ he asked.

In the darkness he could hardly see the hobbit, even with the light of the torches, but the tone of voice spoke volumes. ‘We are nearly there.’ There was irritation, as there always was when he felt Thorin was being unfair to him. The dwarf paid it no heed. This was bigger than one burglar’s hurt feelings, much bigger, and it was about time that the burglar understood that. It had always been bigger than personal concerns. But how could a hobbit such as Bilbo Baggins understand that? He had a home to return to, a place to live. Why would he concern himself with the troubles of dwarves who did not have a home, who had to struggle to get food on the table and survive? Someone who was used to seven meals a day could not truly understand that.

‘Put out the torches,’ he ordered. The way he remembered it, the treasury had some windows, that provided light. During the day, the rays of sunlight coming in from the window caught in the chandeliers that bounced the light all around the room, bathing it in bright light. When it was dark, they would light torches, but it was not night now. The sun had come up just before they had entered the tunnel. There would be more than enough light to see by.

Now that he walked here, he truly felt at home, not just like a beggar camping on the doorstep. This tunnel was unfamiliar, but the stone underneath his feet was not. This tunnel was dwarven make. He felt carvings in the wall and a solid floor upon which he walked. There were no bumps, no holes, like there had been in Goblin-town. One could walk here in complete darkness and be assured that they would not trip because of an uneven part in the floor. This was home and it was worth fighting for.

His command was followed without question. They could not risk too much talking, not now they were so close to the treasury that the dragon could hear them. And he would not risk that if he could. And now that their own source of light was extinguished, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. It was not very clear yet and it was still relatively far off, but they were close, closer than he had been in so long.

‘You know what to do,’ he told his companions. There was not much else to say. They had gone over this last night until they could dream the plans if need be. They would spread out so that they surrounded the dragon, but they would remain out of sight as long as the sign had not been given. Bilbo would stay where he was, supposedly to keep watch from a place where he had good sight of the proceedings in the treasury. With the hobbit entertaining the views he did, Thorin did not trust him to come too close to Smaug. Of course he had not said anything of the kind to the halfling himself, but he suspected that the burglar could read between lines well enough.

Thorin was the only one who would not stay out of sight. If he wanted to be worthy of being King under the Mountain, he would slay the dragon for himself. Maybe that would protect him from the lure of the hoard as well, because it was supposed to be less strong when one conquered it oneself. He sincerely hoped there was truth in that idea. But he could not truly ask of others what he was unwilling to do himself, a lesson his grandfather had taught him from a young age. And he had led by example, before the sickness took his mind. Thrór was an involved king, who did not turn his nose up at helping out in the mines if there was a need. And when there was a battle, he fought twice as hard as any other dwarf in his army. It was something Thorin could aspire to, and he did.

There were soft wishes of good luck exchanged and Thorin felt a hand on his arm. ‘You know, I’m not all that good at treating burns,’ Kate pointed out. ‘So you better not have any upon your return.’ There was a small tremor in her voice that she probably did not want him to hear and so Thorin pretended that he had indeed not heard it. It would make the goodbye easier on both of them.

‘I won’t,’ he told her. This was a promise they both knew he could not make good on, but neither of them pointed it out. Sometimes it was better not to. ‘Stay away from the dragon.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ Kate tried and failed to sound nonchalant. ‘I’ve been told I’ve got a mean right hook.’

Thorin wasn’t one for empty promises and reassurances which were built on nothing but hopes, but every once in a while he indulged in them. He had done the same thing when he promised Dís to make sure that her sons survived, even if he could make no such promise and deliver on it. There were too many uncertainties.

There were too many uncertainties now too. He was aware of all of them as he stepped into the treasury for the first time since he had forcefully dragged his grandfather out of it when Smaug had invaded Erebor. Part of him expected to find it unchanged, but it wasn’t and he should have known that. Walls had been damaged and, in some cases, been brought down to accommodate a dragon of that size. The orderly piles of treasure had been thrown over, onto one great heap upon which Smaug lay.

For a moment he stopped breathing. When the attack had happened he had not been given a good view of the monster. It had gone too fast and all he had seen were glimpses. Now he saw all of the dragon. Well, most of it.

Smaug was lying on top of the pile, somewhat on his right side, although it might be better to say that the right part of his body had somewhat sunken away in the pile of gold and precious gems. Its enormous head was farthest away from Thorin. He would need to sneak past the beast first to get at the weak spot on the left side of the chest and that might be no easy feat. Fortunately a dragon’s hearing was not as advanced as its sense of smell and its own snores might drown out some of the noise the dwarf king was bound to make as he climbed the pile. Thank the Maker that the beast was snoring; at least that meant that it was still sleeping and that happened to be how Thorin Oakenshield liked dragons best. Well, that was not entirely true. He liked them better dead.

His heart was beating too fast. It had done so when he went to battle at Azanulbizar too. But he had lived through that slaughter and he intended to come out the victor in this struggle as well.

And there was nothing else to be done than to climb the pile of gold to do what needed to be done. Kate had once said that dwarves always moved around like a herd of angry elephants, but she was wrong. His kind could move quietly if the need arose. Today he truly had a need.

But moving soundlessly was not easy when it was no mountain, no solid rock that he climbed. Too often he would slip and nearly fall and that was something he could not afford. His men would play their part and so he would play his. Nervous and scared – even if he would never admit to either emotion – he might be, but there was a task to be done. And so he climbed over a dragon’s tail and steadily made his way to the place where the burglar had told him the weak spot was located.

He was already standing between the enormous paws of the beast when he realised that for the last half-minute there had been something missing. He froze into place when he realised what exactly it was that was missing: the snores.

There was a rumbling, originating from within the beast, that shook the pile and almost made the dwarf fall off it. ‘Ah, welcome back, dwarves. Come along, don’t be shy. Help yourselves. There’s plenty of treasure to spare.’

Thorin thought his heart stopped beating.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Bloody hell, that thing is awake!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used is Brother Stand Beside Me by Heather Dale.  
> Apologies for the cliff-hanger! Next time: fighting Smaug.  
> Comments, as always, would be welcome.


	68. Fighting Fire

_What does a dragon’s voice sound like? I remember Thráin once asking that question when Thorin told the account of our adventures in the treasury that day as a bedtime story – your father has a bad idea of what kind of story is appropriate for young children before they go to sleep; I remember you having nightmares after for a week. I think Thorin answered the question quite vaguely. He said that it was a rumbling sound, something you could feel resounding in your bones and head and not just in your ears._

_Now, I will not deny that he absolutely spoke the truth when he said that. But there was more to Smaug’s voice than just that. You see, you really ought to have been there to really get what it was like. No, that doesn’t mean that I would ever let you get anywhere near a dragon, dears. And these days I do not think there are any of them left, not like the kind of dragon Smaug was anyway._

_The firedrake didn’t speak very loud, but the walls – what was left of those – sent his voice all around the room. It echoed from the walls, sending every word back at us, making him sound even more impressive than he already was. It was a deep, rumbling kind of sound, something that you won’t forget in a hurry once you’ve heard it._

_What to compare it to? Well, Thráin, maybe in this case your older brother is a good example. I do not mean to say that he sounds exactly like a dragon, but he is the one to come closest to it. Maybe you don’t remember the incident, but I know I do._

_You were about eight years old and Thoren ten when we had to have a meeting with a lot of noblemen from Dale to discuss a building project for Dale to be carried out by some of the dwarves of our kingdom. Naturally they had to be treated like every guest and that meant that there was a huge feast to conclude the day’s negotiations. The two of you were absent, but I did not make much of it, since the two of you had the habit of being late on official occasions. Maybe that was the time when I really should have realised something was amiss, but of course I never suspected a thing until a monstrous roar had most of the guests frozen into their chairs, glancing around the room in shock, quite unable to pinpoint where the noise even came from or if it meant that they were all in danger. You don’t know how much you startled me, Thoren, but Maker help me, you did. For a moment there you did remind me of a dragon, so like one did you sound. This was probably helped along by the huge walls of the banquet hall, which echoed your voice and made it sound ten times louder than it was._

_The rest of the guests needed a bit longer to realise that this was not in fact an attack, but more like a young prince who demonstrated a remarkable inability to behave himself in front of guests, as your father kindly reminded you of when all the people were calmed and you were locked up in your room for the rest of the evening._

_Oh well, I am afraid I am getting distracted. My mother used to say that had something to do with old age and I fear she may be right about that. I was telling you about our encounter with Smaug the Terrible and I somehow end up reminiscing about your childhood. I should really know better._

_Smaug was speaking. I think that my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I was a bit higher up with Kíli, hiding on a balcony that overlooked the scene. Thorin had given very specific instructions to him, because I think he wanted to keep me out of harm’s way – he was hardly subtle about doing it too – and that meant we had a good view, even if we had to hide behind pillars to avoid being seen by the monster and become dragon fodder ourselves. But we could see something and what we saw was quite frightening…_

 

Thorin froze into place the moment the dragon began to speak. He knew that there had been a risk of Smaug being not as asleep as they had all hoped and wanted him to be. And he was standing practically next to the beast, the first in line to get burned to cinders, should Smaug spot him.

The dragon must have smelled him. It was the only reasonable explanation he could think of. He had looked asleep when they came in, the snores being more than enough proof of that. Maybe he had heard something or indeed smelled something. Having eaten so many of Thorin’s people, he must recognise the smell of dwarf when he happened upon it, but this knowledge didn’t do anything to calm either his nerve or his fury. So may had found their end in the dragon’s fire or the dragon’s enormous jaws and the memories were still as fresh in his mind as the day they were made. They were even stronger now than they had been then. Because now he was back in his own home, the very place Smaug had laid ruin to, the very place where he had taken the lives of so many dwarves. He remembered looking at his mother as she died, seeing the children with her clinging to her skirts in fear. Children. This monster had killed children. And many more had become orphans that day. Standing here made the memory stronger and it fuelled his fury.

And for the moment it made his fear of being burned take a backseat. Maybe that was because he had always been aware that in the end it may come down to that. From the moment he had set out on his quest he had known that the only result that may come from it was that all of them were dead when all was said and done. It was a risk he was willing to take for himself, but he hoped that the others would be able to get out. They were not as close to the dragon as Thorin was and would surely stand come chance. He only hoped they would know that they should take it and not do something as honourable and stupid as to try and get him out, as he knew was a far too realistic prospect by far.

‘You are mistaken, oh Smaug the Tremendous!’ a voice rang out. ‘We are not just dwarves! Have you not smelled carefully?’

Thorin had not known what he should have expected, but it was not the burglar speaking up and getting himself caught up in untold trouble. He was the only one of them who reasonably had a chance to make a run for it. He had that magical Ring of his and was swiftest on his feet. If anyone stood a chance, then it was the burglar. And he had never been known to throw himself headfirst into danger, not in the way he was doing now. So what in Mahal’s name was he playing at getting the dragon’s attention?

The dragon raised its head and Thorin instinctively ducked away behind the enormous paw he stood behind. He could not say how sensitive a dragon’s scales were, but he thought that they may not be very sensitive, since it was well-known that arrows and swords bounced off them. And that assessment of the situation was helped along by Smaug not looking back at him when he had to grab the paw for balance. He would have fallen otherwise. Instead the dragon looked in the direction from where the noise had come. Thorin would say that it had come from somewhere under the balcony on which he knew Kíli and Kate to be hiding, but he could not see anything or anyone when he did look. Mr Baggins would be wearing his Ring to avoid being seen. That at least was the sensible thing to be doing, even if it did not answer the question of what the hobbit was thinking he was doing. He had said that he was no longer planning on making the book come true, but he had not shown much enthusiasm in the quest since. Of course all of them had been losing courage then, but still. Even after months of travelling with the burglar, the dwarf found he still didn’t get the measure of him. There were times he was convinced he knew what the hobbit was doing, but at other times he found himself at a loss.

‘Ah, I remember your scent,’ Smaug said. ‘Have you come here for the treasure as well? You have been here before. Did you see nothing to your liking?’

‘Oh no, I have not come for presents,’ Bilbo hastened to say. ‘I only ever wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as the tales say. I did not believe them, you see.’ Thorin found himself a bit confused when he recognised the lines from the book. What did the hobbit hope to achieve? Distract Smaug? But to what end? To let them all escape?

‘Do you now?’ Smaug sounded flattered, but Thorin did not think the beast believed a word of it. Dragons were cunning and Master Baggins could not ever dream to be as sly as this ancient drake.

‘Songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, oh Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities.’ The dwarf king started to think the hobbit was doing this on purpose, quoting the book. He had a good mind, a good memory – he had shown that in the past few months too – and he was using it to steer his way through this conversation, but Thorin still did not know to what end. True, this would keep the dragon from roasting them all to death for just a little while longer, but as soon as Smaug saw movement, he would kill them all without as much as a second thought. Bilbo was only delaying the inevitable, for Smaug would surely see them move.

And there was no thought of killing the beast now, not while it was in the position it was now. There was no possibility for him to sneak over the beast’s front paw without the dragon noticing it. For the moment he was safe, ironically hidden from sight by the dragon’s own front paw, the very thing that stood between him and the much-needed opportunity to end the beast and there was no way he could ever hit one of Smaug’s enormous eyes. Even when he threw the sword, there was no guarantee that he could do what needed to be done, if they wanted all to come out of this with their lives.

‘Aye, that’s true!’ another voice chimed in. To his shock, Thorin recognised Fíli’s voice. ‘You are surely the greatest dragon to have ever lived, more magnificent and terrifying than even Glaurung and Ancalagon the Black!’

‘Never seen your like before in my life, I swear.’ Dwalin.

‘Tales can’t do you justice, Smaug the Magnificent.’ Balin.

‘The biggest dragon I’ve ever seen!’ Kíli agreed.

The other members of the company took this as their cue to join in and praise Smaug’s magnificence to the skies. Their voices bounced off the walls and distracted the dragon mightily. Its big head was going from left to right and Thorin ducked down a little lower in order to avoid being seen. All of them were staying out of sight, so without moving Smaug could not see any of them. And even if he moved, he would not quite know in what direction he should go in the first place. Even Thorin, who knew where all of his men were, found it hard to determine from whence the sounds came. It worked well enough to make the dragon wonder what was going on here and just how many dwarves there were, but he did not see how it would help him in either slaying the beast or running from it.

‘Nice manners you all have for being liars and thieves,’ Smaug snarled when he became so thoroughly annoyed with the shouting that he put an end to it. He was shaking his head, the way a pony might do to try and chase away some stinging insect that would not leave it alone and Thorin pondered wryly that they at least had succeeded in getting on the dragon’s bad side. He was not exactly sure how proud he was of that achievement. ‘You are all so familiar with my name, yet you have not been here before. No one stepped foot inside my Mountain for more than hundred and fifty years.’ Thorin’s blood reached the temperature of dragon’s fire at hearing the possessive pronoun when Smaug spoke of Erebor as if it rightfully belonged to him.

‘Indeed,’ the burglar agreed. ‘Yet we are here now to see your splendour. And we have not found ourselves disappointed, Smaug the Unsurpassable.’

The dragon’s head once again turned in the direction the sound of Mr Baggins’s voice came from. ‘You seem familiar with my name, but I don’t seem to remember smelling something quite like you before. You are no dwarf and neither are you of the race of Men, even though I do smell one of that race is present as well. Who are you and where do you come from, if I may ask?’

It was not quite the text from the book, but some phrases Thorin did indeed recognise. The hobbit may just be repeating what he had read in that book of Kate’s, but Smaug could not have that excuse. He had never read any book, the dwarf imagined. He would not know any of the things Thorin, Kate and the burglar knew, yet he used phrases that had come from a book from another world.

Bilbo however seemed intent in milking the usefulness of _The Hobbit_ for all that it was worth. ‘You may indeed,’ he said. With every word that he spoke his confidence seemed to grow. It was present in his every word and if Thorin had not known how frightened the hobbit had been when faced with the prospect of venturing into the Mountain and how much trouble and coaxing it had cost Kate to get him to do it, then he might be fooled into thinking that Mr Baggins was actually quite enjoying himself. ‘I come from under hill, and under the hills and over the hills my path has led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen!’

Oh, the hobbit was enjoying this, Thorin realised. Did he not know what risks they were all facing, that it was almost certain that all of them would be dead before the sun set today? Why would he be enjoying this? It just did not add up. If there was something that he was trying to achieve, then what was it? Thorin did not see it.

‘So I can well believe,’ Smaug remarked wryly, if a dragon could ever sound wry anyway. It was difficult to determine what the beast wanted, even difficult to determine what he sounded like, apart from impressive. But he was less frightening now than he had been on the day that Erebor had fallen. Thorin remembered only seeing glimpses of the beast as it raced past at a speed that was too fast for anyone to keep up with. Fire, burning flesh and a firedrake that was untouchable, too well armed and too fast for any dwarf to contend with. Somehow those glimpses had made it all the more terrifying, because he had failed to get the measure of the beast. ‘But that is hardly your usual name.’

‘I am the clue-finder, the fire-lighter, the food-thief, the stinging fly.’ Bilbo riddled away, choosing the lines given to him by the book and adding to them as he went. ‘I wasn’t chosen for the lucky number, but I am the lucky number now.’

‘Lovely titles!’ the dragon said in mock-respect. ‘But lucky numbers don’t always come off.’

The burglar ignored him. ‘I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me.’

Smaug merely huffed to show that he was not impressed.

‘I am the friends of bears and the guest of eagles. I am the Ringwinner and Burner of Wolves and I am Thief of Prisoners.’

The hobbit was obviously boasting about what he had done and adding to the things the book would have had him say. But it also did not escape the dwarf king’s notice that he was also leaving out a good few things that would have let the dragon think that they’d had help in Esgaroth. It was not something he would have done if he was truly planning to make the book come true. If that had been his intent, he would have called himself the barrel-rider and he had not done so. And he thought he might rule out that Bilbo Baggins had simply forgotten about this detail; he had remembered everything else so far. He therefore could only assume that he had some plan of some kind that was yet unknown to Thorin.

‘That’s better,’ the dragon commented. ‘But who are your companions?’

‘Oh, have I failed to introduce you to them?’ Bilbo said, feigning shock. He sounded ever more sure of himself, which was easy to do, the dwarf king supposed, when the dragon could not see him. And it appeared as if that vexed Smaug. His head went from left to right, up and down to determine where the threat came from, but he could not seem to work it out. And Bilbo was so quick and quiet on his feet that Smaug would never hear him move as long as he didn’t trip over the piles of treasure. He may even have to admit that the wizard had known what he was doing when he recruited Master Baggins as the company burglar. ‘They are killers of goblins and bane of orcs, they are the friends of eagles and fighters of trolls. They are surrounded by fire, but step forth alive from the inferno. They are the unlikely couple and the finders of swords.’

Apparently the hobbit was as good in making up his own riddles as he was in stealing them from a book. And he did well for himself, Thorin thought. The dragon seemed genuinely not to know what he was to do with these annoying riddles and the rest of the company had blessedly gone quiet again. Thorin loved his sister-son dearly and appreciated his attempts to distract a fully grown dragon, but these things – to his own surprise – were best left to the burglar. If only he could find out what the hobbit was meaning to achieve by his delay.

He had barely finished this thought and was looking around him to see if there was some clue he had somehow overlooked, when he saw two heads peeking over the balcony’s railing. Thorin recognised Kate’s flaming hair and the darker locks of Kíli without any trouble. His youngest sister-son shot a look at the dragon and when the beast turned out not to be watching, he quickly looked at Thorin, signing frantically, but it was too quick to make any sense of it and before he could subject his uncle to a repeat performance, the dragon’s head had turned once again and he had to duck down if he did not want to be noticed.

In the meantime Thorin found himself horribly confused. The fear was well and truly gone now, as in so far that it had ever been truly present. He did not feel afraid, had not felt it. The purpose in coming here was driving all the other concerns from his mind. It was clear to him that some plan was being made, but he did not get what it was yet. He would wager his part of the treasure though to say that Mr Baggins’s stalling was part of it. All thoughts of running had gone from his mind. If there was a plan, there was a chance of success, no matter how small. The chances of success had never been great, but Thorin found himself unwilling to give up, not now they had come so far. His hands clenched around Orcrist.

‘Awfully big words again for one who dares not to show his face,’ Smaug mocked, making Thorin hope that Bilbo had the good sense to keep that Ring around his finger. ‘Yet I cannot help but presume that those words come from a thief’s mouth.’

‘You are mistaken again, Smaug the Mighty.’ Mr Baggins was indeed doing a very fine job of keeping the dragon distracted and as soon as he spoke the enormous head turned again, away from Thorin and so he peeked over the paw he was hiding behind up at the balcony again. ‘Not gold alone brought us hither. Gold was only an afterthought with us. We came over hill, by wave and wind, for Revenge. Surely, oh Smaug the unassessably wealthy, you must realise that your success has made you some bitter enemies?’

Kíli’s head poked above the railing again now and Kate’s followed suit. His nephew wasted no time in repeating the series of gestures he had made before, too fast again to follow. Normally Thorin did not have difficulty with deciphering his own people’s sign language, but Kíli was going too fast for anyone to make sense of. It was as if he was trying to convey too much in too short a time, so that he could duck down again before Smaug turned his attention elsewhere again.

 _What?_ he signed back, hoping that this was making it clear enough that he had to slow down a bit.

Kate whispered something to Kíli, he assumed that anyway, since she was too far off to be heard and then turned to him. She first pointed at Thorin and then at the dragon, miming something at him while she did so. She shot him a questioning glance, but he did not get it. He could read her lips; the balcony was not that far away and the light was bright enough, but, like Kíli, she was speaking too fast.

The advisor did it again, slower this time and this time he did get what she was saying. ‘Distract. It.’ She repeated the gestures again. ‘Head. Needs. Turned. To. Left.’ It reminded him strangely of their way of communicating when he had been stuck in a sack, waiting to be turned into a trolls’ dinner and Kate was trying to rescue them, even if she clearly did not exactly know how to do that.

 _Why?_ Thorin signed, knowing that Kíli would know what he meant. His heart beat was picking up, but he doubted it was fear. It was with renewed purpose. There was a plan. They could still do this and prove to the world that this was not the fool’s errand everyone had been trying to make him believe this was. His company could still come out of this alive.

Kate pointed at Kíli, made a movement as if she was drawing a non-existent bow and then pointed her finger at her eye. This needed no spoken translation. Distract the beast, make its head turn to the left, so that Kíli could shoot it. Right now, it was too difficult for his sister-son to get the right angle, because the dragon’s head was mostly staring right at Bilbo. It needed to be turned so that he could get a good shot.

There was however one weakness in that plan and it was not that he doubted Kíli’s aim and readiness to do whatever it took. But if Smaug turned his head, then he would surely see the dwarf hiding behind the left front paw. Kate would not have thought of it or she would not have suggested it. Kíli may have done that, but he would have known that it was their only chance. There was no way that any of them could reach the other weak spot and a dragon’s eyes were rumoured to be the only other place where they were vulnerable, even though they were incredibly difficult to get at.

The case was simple. They needed to hit the eyes and in order to hit the eyes, Thorin needed to put his own life on the line. But was that not a sacrifice worth making if it meant that it would be the drake’s end as well. He had made that decision long ago. If it was his life this quest demanded in return for his people getting back his home, then that was a price well worth paying. He would regret dying, but if it would give his people back their home, then he was prepared to do it.

He had to look hard to find a way to distract the beast. It would have sufficed to shout ‘Hey!’ and wave his arms around to get the attention, but that was not his way, not if there was another possibility still open to him. And there was one. He had one paw lying right in front of him. The scales were close together, but there was one scale that had for whatever reason come loose, revealing the far more vulnerable flesh underneath. He had seen it when he first sought refuge here, but had paid it no mind then. It may be a weak spot, but not enough to kill him.

But enough to defeat him. Thorin remembered a story one of his teachers had forced him to read when he was supposed to be studying elvish history, a subject Thorin had thoroughly disliked from the start because he kept confusing all those ridiculous names. This tale had stuck though. At some point Vurin had made him learn about the fall of Gondolin. That had at least vaguely interested him, because it was about a battle. A part of that tale was that someone named Tuor, a Man living in the city, husband of the king’s daughter, had defeated a dragon by stabbing it in the foot. It could also be that it was hewed off, but he could not recall. It had been too long ago that he read it to be entirely sure of what it exactly was, but the result was that the dragon had given up the attack, leaving Tuor and his friend well alone. He tried not to think about the part of the story that said that the dragon in its anguish had killed friend and foe alike with his fire and the mighty sweeping of its tail. They had to do something; there was no choice.

 _Be ready_ , he signed at Kíli and then he grabbed Orcrist, positioning it above the exposed flesh that must have escaped Smaug’s notice entirely. But then, he didn’t know it was at risk. He would find out soon enough. Thorin may not be the one to deal the killing blow in the end, but he would deal a blow all the same.

The only regret he had was that he would never find out what life could have been like should he have lived. He would never see his kingdom restored, never marry the woman he had proposed to. But this had always been much bigger than just him, bigger than this company and it was something he was prepared to lay down his life for. _Forgive me, Kate. There is no other option._

Smaug’s laughter rumbled through his enormous body. ‘Revenge!’ he snorted, not at all sounding impressed. Quite the contrary, he found the idea clearly ridiculous. ‘Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Are they not hiding, cowering at the sight of me? Lord Girion of Dale is dead too and I have eaten his people like a wolf among the sheep! Where are his sons’ sons that dare approach me? I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong!’ he ended in a singsong tone of voice, like a spoiled child flaunting its spoils, taunting the other children.

And it made Thorin burn with a fury he had not experienced in many years to hear the dragon so openly boasting about the crimes he had committed. But no longer. No more crimes would be committed. This ended today. ‘The King under the Mountain is here to judge you for your crimes!’ he announced as loudly as he could.

The dragon’s head turned in what appeared to be surprise. Thorin smiled as he brought the weapon down.

 

***

 

The longer she was in here, the more she was convinced this was not as good an idea as she had first believed it to be. The nerves were agreeing with her on this subject, telling her that it would have been a wiser decision by far to wait outside and let the dwarves fight with the monster in peace. But that would not have been very nice or very loyal of her and she was too much of a coward to be left all by herself anyway, so here she was, sneaking past enormous piles of treasure as she followed Kíli to a spot Thorin had directed them to.

She was no fool; she knew he wanted her as far away from the fray as possible, while he himself threw caution to the wind by climbing up the biggest pile of treasure, where the dragon lay, so that he could finish the beast off all by himself. Kate would have argued with him over it until the sun turned cold if she thought it would actually have any result at all. But it wouldn’t have and therefore she had accepted it with the barest minimum of protest, even if she would much rather drag him back and keep him out of it entirely. She had felt horrible having been separated from him for just over twenty-four hours, imagining that the most horrible things had happened to him when he was not even in any real danger. Now he was going into real danger and the chances were that she would never see him again. And she had parted from him with some stupid flippant comment about her inability to treat burns. Good grief, could she not at least have told him to be careful or to come back? Even something along the lines of _I love you_ would have done. But she was no good when it came to expressing what she felt and so she had avoided the subject. _As per bloody usual_.

Kíli led the way. Thorin had given his instructions to him and not to her. For someone who above ground had no sense of direction to speak of, he knew his way under the Mountain very well. He had given the directions with a confidence of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and there had been something reassuring in that at least. Unfortunately having a good sense of direction underground was going to do them no favours in defeating a dragon. They at least had some luck; the beast was still merrily snoring the day away and that was how she liked her dragon best, although she was not all that opposed to dead dragons either. She somehow doubted that even the most animal-loving fanatic would be opposed to dead dragons. The fewer of those monsters roamed the earth – Middle or otherwise – the better it would be.

The treasury was brighter lit than she had anticipated. Under the Mountain sounded like a dark and damp place, something she wasn’t sure she even wanted to step foot, but Erebor did not live up to her expectations, in a good way. There were small windows high up in the walls that let in the light of day, which in turn was cast all over the room by chandeliers that caught the light and sent it to even the darkest corner. It was a beautiful construction and quite genius too, Kate imagined. It might even be more beautiful if not a considerable number of chandeliers was damaged so badly.

But as magnificent as it all was, the sight of the inside of the Mountain was rather spoiled for the company advisor because of the positively huge dragon that lay sleeping in the middle of the hall. And Thorin was going there on his own. It was positively a death sentence. Of course she had known that there was precious little he would not do to prevent the annihilation of Lake-town and have the honour of killing the beast all by himself, but this was practically suicidal. For some reason, when he had spoken of his wish to do the deed himself, this was not what she had imagined that would happen.

Kíli was nervous as well, if the way his hand kept clenching and unclenching around the hilt of his sword was any indication. The nervousness had not left one single member of the company untouched. Everyone felt it, with the possible exception of Bilbo Baggins, who had been ordered to play lookout at the entrance of the tunnel by Thorin. It was quite obvious to anyone with a brain that the King under the Mountain did not fully trust the burglar anymore and wanted to keep him as far from the action as he possibly could. Kate found it rather difficult to blame him for that; she didn’t know what to do with the hobbit herself. He was impossibly hard to read and he had avoided company for the past few days. Bofur was the only one he really talked to these days, possibly because Bofur had been nice to him from very early on, and Kate was loath to ask Bofur to share what had been told to him in confidence.

They ascended a stair that led them to some sort of balcony that allowed them to overlook the treasury. It wasn’t all that high up; if the dragon were to wake and raise its head, it would be eyelevel with them, something Kate did not particularly liked the sound of.

From where she stood she could also see Thorin almost right ahead, working his way to Smaug’s weak spot, an expression of utter determination on his face. It was obvious that he was not going to back down, whatever happened now. He meant to kill that beast and be done with it for once and for all. As admirable as that doubtlessly was, it made Kate’s stomach do a series of somersaults in nervous anticipation.

‘He knows what he’s doing,’ Kíli said, which was supposed to be reassuring.

 _No, he doesn’t_ , Kate thought. _He’s never done this before. None of us know what we’re doing. How could we?_

She didn’t quite know when her thoughts had become that dark, but it was not a good development. Maybe it was because so far things had gone rather smoothly, too smoothly even, she would say. So far this quest had been a fight, every step of the bloody way, and it seemed unlikely that they would have this much luck now that they came to the main task. It was as if she was holding her breath for something to go wrong.

The next second she found herself thinking that she should not have been thinking such thoughts, because her feeling of unease was justified almost right away when Smaug’s eyes flew open and his snoring stopped. It was more reflex than conscious thought that caused her to duck down, behind the railing, her heart racing like she had just run some kind of marathon. The sound of it was so loud that surely the dragon must hear it. If he didn’t smell them all out first. That realisation did nothing to calm her heart either.

‘Ah, welcome back, dwarves. Come along, don’t be shy. Help yourselves. There’s plenty of treasure to spare.’ Smaug’s voice was a rumbling sound that vibrated off the walls and resounded in her chest. It was a voice one could feel as much as hear. It sounded as if the beast was right next to her. She suddenly felt cold and her hands were trembling.

Kíli didn’t seem much better. He had followed her example in ducking down behind the railing and trying to keep out of sight as best he could. Kate didn’t think much of it, but he was still relatively young for one of his race, even if he still had a good many decades on her. He had never seen the dragon and it might just be that his bravado in Bag End and on the road was not necessarily anything more than that.

‘What do we do?’ he whispered, probably thinking that she had all the answers because she was the company advisor. _If only that were true_.

She was saved from having to answer that question with a very disheartening ‘I don’t know’ by Bilbo’s voice. ‘You are mistaken, oh Smaug the Tremendous!’ he called out. He sounded awfully certain of himself for someone who had practically offered himself up on a silver platter for the dragon to dine of. Had he lost his mind? ‘We are not just dwarves! Have you not smelled carefully?’

Kíli voiced the sentiment Kate felt. ‘What’s he doing?’

‘Distracting him,’ she muttered. That had to be the only explanation that made any sense to her. Bilbo was distracting Smaug, quite possibly by wearing his Ring so that the dragon could only hear his voice. The fact that she had not heard Smaug breathe any fire made her believe that he was at least well out of sight, because that beast did not seem like intruders very well. He might try to lure them out and cook them for their troubles. And Kate found that she was not yet ready to die. She still had a life to live.

Soon it turned out that Bilbo was indeed playing for time, like she had made him do with the trolls, and he was doing well. He was omitting every mention of things that might point the dragon straight to Lake-town, but otherwise followed the book. It almost made her smile that he was using the knowledge at his disposal in a way she had hoped he would do. He at least no longer seemed to be planning to make the real events follow the book.

His stalling gave her heart the time to slow down again and made her realise that she was in fact not dead yet and that she still had a brain she could use, if only she could force herself into doing that. Sitting here was not going to do her any favour and now that she was able to see past the panic there was a very unwelcome voice in the back of her head reminding her that Thorin had in fact been standing next to Smaug when he woke. She had no idea where he was now, but he could not have moved far if he would not have wanted to alarm the beast. And he was in a lot more danger than Kíli and she were.

‘We should do something,’ she whispered as Bilbo was merrily riddling the day away, in all likelihood driving the dragon mad because he couldn’t get a straight answer out of the hobbit.

 _What the hell do you think you’re doing, Andrews? Do you have a bloody death wish?_ Her common sense was quick enough to remind her that she was in fact facing a bloody dragon here, who was unlikely to appreciate any attempts to do something, and failure was bound to result in her being burned to death in a matter of mere seconds.

But she remembered an oath made long ago on the banks of the Anduin. _I swear that this quest is also my quest from now on until the day the task has been completed_. This was her quest too. She was not here as a mere spectator, even if that was clearly what Thorin had intended when he had sent her up here. But they were all alive still and just because this monster was now awake did not mean that they should offer themselves up as dinner. Besides, it was better to do something, anything at all. Bilbo did not have the monopoly on the occasional bravery after all.

She could almost see the light bulb appear over Kíli’s head as he looked at his bow. ‘The eyes,’ he whispered excitedly. ‘Those are weak spots as well.’ He hesitated. ‘That’s what everyone says anyway. I’m not sure anyone ever killed a dragon that way.’

Probably because everyone was burned to cinders long before they could get even near the eyes, Kate thought. But then, if the dragon was looking up a bit, then they were standing at eyelevel with it and Kíli was a very good shot. They may stand a chance, no matter how small that chance was. And doing something was better than doing nothing.

With infinite care she got to her feet and looked over the railing. The dragon’s gaze was fixed at a point underneath their balcony, at the point where she believed Bilbo to be. The burglar was down below and Smaug was standing right opposite him, or that was what she believed anyway. Thorin was right ahead, hiding behind the dragon’s own paw, which was the most brilliant solution to this problem Kate could think of. Hiding in plain sight and keeping his mouth tightly shut. The scent of dwarf must be so present that it must be almost impossible to determine where it came from exactly. It was a silver lining.

It was also the only silver lining. ‘I can’t hit the eyes from this angle,’ Kíli muttered as he ducked down, pulling Kate down with him so that neither of them were exposed for too long. Smaug’s head had indeed been about to go left and right again, and Kate was in no mood for being seen and barbecued.

Kate had spotted the problem herself and suddenly the whole idea did not seem that brilliant anymore. The dragon’s eyes were not right above his nose, but positioned on either side of the head, which meant that Kíli would have a difficult position to shoot from. He was more likely to miss than to hit and they would not be given a second chance once Smaug was onto them, Kate knew that much.

‘What do we do?’ she whispered back.

‘If he could turn his head left, I would have a good shot,’  he muttered. ‘And I would only need two or three seconds to take the shot.’

‘Thorin is standing in the right position,’ she said before she even had given herself permission to do so.

Kate didn’t know who was more shocked at the suggestion: Kíli or she, but she thought she was remarkably close to claiming the first place. Because in doing this she would place him in danger, a lot of danger. Two or three seconds were more than enough for Smaug to breathe fire on her husband-to-be and kill him instantly. This was a dangerous scheme, suicidal for him.

‘No, we can’t,’ she said immediately, dismissing her own plan. She was not going to risk Thorin’s life like that. It was too much to ask.

‘I can do it quickly.’ Kíli wasn’t looking at her when he said that, but at the dragon they intended to slay. He had started out on this quest like someone who didn’t take life too serious, but he had grown up. This was no longer just a fun-loving dwarf, this was a young warrior who was calculating risks carefully. ‘Smaug won’t have the time.’ He didn’t say what the firedrake wouldn’t have time for, but Kate got the message well enough. And it needed to be done. There was not going to come a better opportunity and Thorin would not thank them for wasting it. He was like that, Kate knew. If it meant this brutal dragon could be defeated, he was ready to die for it, no matter how passionately she wished he was not.

 _Get your priorities sorted, Andrews_ , she told herself. This was bigger than just one life, even if that life belonged to the one she had come to love dearly. And Kíli _did_ say that he could do it without placing Thorin in any real danger. He was family to the archer, so Kíli would not want to risk Thorin’s life when there was no true need for it. ‘Do it,’ she said before she could change her mind again. For some reason she felt like he had been waiting for her seal of approval and there was really no choice but to give him that.

They both looked over the railing again and they had the good fortune that Smaug was thoroughly distracted again and that Thorin was looking up at them. Maybe they had some luck left after all. Kate had rather believed that they had run out of their extremely limited supply months ago, as in so far it was present to begin with.

Kíli wasted no time in making frantic gestures at Thorin in that sign language Kate could never quite get the measure of. By the looks of it, neither could Thorin today. He reacted with a puzzled look that did not seem to suit him at all.

But the dragon’s head was turning again and Kate wasted no time in dragging Kíli down with her before they were both seen and wiped off the face of the earth. ‘What did you say to him?’ she asked.

‘To distract the beast, make its head turn left, so that I can shoot it.’ Kíli must have seen Thorin’s confused face as well, because he sounded thoroughly frustrated.

‘Slower next time,’ Kate advised. ‘You went too fast.’ She poked her head over the railing, noticing with no small measure of relief that Smaug was looking at the spot where Bilbo was supposed to be again. ‘The coast is clear.’

Kíli followed her advice, but went only marginally slower this time, which still left them with a very confused Thorin and that would never do. ‘Let me,’ she proposed. She may not know any of those signs, but she had her own, and Thorin’s lip-reading was not all that bad. The troll routine might just work.

At first it seemed just as much use as Kíli’s approach, but then she did it again, slower still and he finally got it. He gave her a curt nod and signed something at Kíli that she did not understand.

‘Be ready,’ the dwarf translated. He was acting on that instruction already by taking his bow and an arrow out of the quiver. Now that he had a purpose, he was focused and he sported a stare that was so like Thorin’s that it was almost creepy how alike they were in that moment.

In the meantime Smaug was still boasting. ‘Revenge!’ the dragon laughed, although it sounded more like a mocking snort to Kate’s ears. ‘Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Are they not hiding, cowering at the sight of me? Lord Girion of Dale is dead too and I have eaten his people like a wolf among the sheep! Where are his sons’ sons that dare approach me? I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong!’

 _Not for much longer, you won’t be_ , Kate thought venomously. To be frank, it made her want to throw up to hear that beast boasting about the many people he had killed. And if it was enraging her, who had not known one single person killed by Smaug, then it was bound to infuriate the dwarf king, who had known so many that had been slaughtered on the day the Mountain fell.

And she was proven right. ‘The King under the Mountain is here to judge you for your crimes!’ he exclaimed, voice bouncing off the walls. In that moment there could not be one single doubt that he was the rightful king. He looked and sounded like one.

The following events went on so fast that Kate in hindsight found it difficult to determine what exactly happened. But it all began with Thorin bringing his sword down on the dragon’s huge paw with seemingly all force that he could muster. This action was followed by the most frightening cry of pain that the company advisor had ever heard. There were flames filling the treasure hall, very nearly blinding her in their intensity, but they were not directed at her.

And Kíli never wavered. The moment Smaug had his head in the right position, he let the arrow fly. For a moment Kate feared that it would be a miss, Smaug was thrashing and screaming in pain so much that it would be almost impossible to hit the target. Whatever it was that Thorin had done to the drake, it must have hurt him badly, even though that was not supposed to be possible; only the eyes and the patch on Smaug’s breast were weak spots.

The arrow did what it was supposed to do, though. It hit the eye and went in all the way to the feathers. And all hell broke loose. Smaug screamed and breathed fire in his defeat. The sound pierced her ears and gave her a sudden desire to be deaf. The sound was bad enough in and out of itself, but it surely wasn’t helped by the echoing of the hall, sending every noise back at them at least four times over. It was so loud that Kate could not even hear herself think. It was almost automatic to raise her hands to her ears to cover them. The ground shook and the walls trembled at the sound, making her believe that the entire Mountain was about to collapse.

Kíli dragged her down behind the railing and just in time, because she could feel the fire passing over their heads just a second later. Kate had never been able to believe that fire could be that hot, but it was and even though the two of them were untouched by it, the experience was still less than pleasant.

There was no telling if Smaug was even fatally injured or that he was just very, very angry. Neither of them offered to actually go and look for fear of being instantly killed if they moved as much as an inch. The railing made out of solid rock was sufficient protection for now and Kate was not willing to risk her life just to see what was going on. She wanted to live. She had no wish to die, not for many years to come.

She could not say how long it lasted. Kate herself would say that it felt like hours and hours in which she was lying on the ground, curled up to make herself as small a target as she could, hoping and desperately praying for it all to be over. Common sense on the other hand told her that it may not even have been a minute, possibly even less.

It all ended as suddenly as it had begun. She could hear the sound of something choking, of something very big choking and then there was the sound of something equally big crashing into piles and piles of treasure.

Caution be damned, she needed to know. Kíli tried to protest, but failed spectacularly as he was just as anxious to see what the hell had happened. There was still the sound of coins and gems falling and crashing down, but the sound of dragon’s screaming had died away and even though there still was a lot of sound in the hall, Kate would call it silent, almost too silent. There was no sound of anything living and that did not sound good at all.

She was right. At first sight there was no living thing in the treasury. The dragon had toppled over and was now lying on the slopes of the mountain of treasure on which he had first been sleeping. An arrow was still sticking out its right eye and the owner of that eye was no longer talking, mocking, snoring, breathing or moving. From where Kate was standing it truly looked like the beast was dead. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but it was a hesitant smile still. She was not yet certain.

Kíli and she were not the only ones looking out over the treasury. More and more heads came poking out of their hiding places, eyeing Smaug’s motionless body with a mixture of hope and very realistic wariness. In the end it was Dwalin who was the only one with enough courage to walk up and check it. He had his axe in his hand, holding it in front of him like it was some sort of shield, but he was the only one brave enough to do what was necessary and so she would not hold it against him. He poked the beast a few times with the weapon and then looked back at the anxious faces of the rest of the company. ‘He’s dead!’ he declared.

Kate could have wept with relief. They had done it. They had really done it. What had seemed so impossible had been done. The dragon had been defeated and Erebor was reclaimed.

She looked at Kíli. ‘Looks like you’ve just acquired a new nickname, Kíli Dragonslayer,’ she remarked, since flippancy was better than crying. ‘You did it. You killed him.’ Somehow saying it made it more real, official. _If I keep telling myself non-stop, I may believe it by teatime tomorrow._ Part of her had not believed that they would ever really do it, that they would ever truly kill Smaug all by themselves. The odds had always been very much against them. If even seasoned warriors had not been able to stand against this beast, who were they then to try and succeed? And in the end all it had taken was a good distraction and one well-aimed arrow.

That reminded her though and she blamed herself for not thinking if this sooner the moment the thought popped up in her head. How could she not have thought of this right away? Smaug had fallen on the exact spot where Thorin had been standing and the King under the Mountain himself was nowhere to be seen. And Kate had lost track of him after Kíli had shot his arrow. She could not safely have stayed where she was.

It felt like someone was gripping her heart and squeezing it into dust. ‘Thorin!’ she exclaimed. The walls echoed her shout back to her four times over. ‘Has anyone seen Thorin?’

The silence with which that question was answered was one of the loudest she had ever heard.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Where is he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked what I did with the dragon and I’m sorry to leave it on a cliff-hanger again. On another note, the story Thorin is thinking about comes from the book of Lost Tales, part two, in the chapter about the Fall of Gondolin.   
> Next time: full-scale dwarf-hunt. Please review?


	69. Sticks and Stones

_I was scared out of my wits. I think I was even more scared then than I had been when I was crouching behind a rock, fearing a searing pain caused by a fire that would surely end my life. The dragon had been screaming and breathing flames, causing the treasure room to look like a battlefield after the battle, even though I could not really bring myself to care anything about that. I was just staring out over the enormous piles of gold, hoping to see that black hair – yes, I swear it once had another colour than grey, my dears, even if you have trouble remembering it – or any other part belonging to your father, preferably attached to him still._

_As children you often got into arguments with Dalin and Halin, children of Lady Nai, and they were no more well-behaved than their mother, who is a harpy in just about every sense of the word. In fact, I might go as far as to say that they were – are – even more rude than their mother._

_However that may be, Thoren and Thráin, you got into arguments with those two at least once a week and often more. At one such occasion I heard one of you, I have quite forgotten who it was exactly, saying to those lads that your mother was never afraid of anything or anyone, certainly not of their mother. I cannot deny that you are absolutely right about that last point; Lady Nai has long since lost any power she may have had to make me scared, if she’s ever had it to begin with, which I sincerely doubt._

_I am afraid that I may have to bust your bubble about the rest of your statement though. Your mother has definitely been afraid a lot, on a great many occasions too. I always took care to never show you just how afraid I was, which is why you two may have been left with the wrong impression._

_In those days, when we were still questing the year away, I have been scared so much that I now almost think that I must have spent the entire year fearing one thing or the other. Looking back on it all, it seems a miracle that I made it through in one piece, that I survived and lived to tell the tale. There was always something to fear then: wargs, orcs, Azog, nasty elves, a nastier Master in Lake-town and the nastiest dragon I had ever seen. Admittedly it was also the only dragon I have ever seen in my life and I very much like to keep it that way, thank you very much._

_Strangely enough those were not the occasions I was most afraid. It may strike you as odd, I imagine. After all, my life has been in danger a good many times that year and one would expect that would have me scared more than anything else. Of course this is not entirely wrong. There have been a great many times that I thought I was going to die and the thought frightened me. I think that is only natural, especially for someone who had never been in any dangerous situation before I came to Middle Earth, nothing of that magnitude anyway._

_Still, I think I’ve been mostly scared about people and when I stood there, looking out over piles of gold with the body of a dead dragon on it, that is one of the most terrifying images my memory is capable of conjuring up. I don’t even know what I was thinking that had happened, I was just very certain that whatever had happened to Thorin, it could not be good. He had been standing in the very spot on which the dragon had fallen and tough dwarf or no, I don’t think anyone could ever survive getting squashed between unyielding precious metals and stones and a very heavy dragon. And there was absolutely no telling if Thorin had been able to get away to a safer place before all hell had broken loose. Personally I didn’t think so. And I had never been so scared in all my life…_

 

The world had stopped turning. It must have done, and not in a good way. Kate thought she might have frozen into place and all of the world with her. No one moved, no one spoke. The only thing she heard was her own voice echoed back to her from all over. But no one answered the question she’d asked and that in itself was the worst answer of them all. Because if no one answered, that could only be because they had not seen Thorin. Some of them may be thinking, wondering about when they had last seen him, but no one had come up with something approaching a reply yet.

Her hands gripped the railing so tight that her knuckles went white. For the moment it was the only thing that kept her from collapse. If she had nothing to hold onto, her legs wouldn’t be able to carry her any longer.

The task to remain upright might have been beyond her if Kíli had not wrapped an arm around her waist and made sure that she could not fall. People were talking now, but it sounded as if it was coming from afar. Kate found she had trouble making out separate words, since everyone was suddenly talking in loud voices and at the same time. The echoing in the hall did not help matters along either.

‘Let’s go down,’ the archer said. He sounded a bit subdued, nothing like the dwarf that had laughed loudest at the campfires at night and who loved to pull the tiger’s tail. This was a far more grown up version of him and Kate remembered a discussion she’d had with Thorin about it. It had only been in the boats that had taken them over the Long Lake and a small distance up the River Running, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Kate could merely nod, struck dumb by fear that made it difficult for her to even breathe. Her mind was all too quick to conjure up images of what could have happened and they went from bad to worse. It was not the kind of thing that she wanted to think about, but there seemed to be no way to escape it either.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake, Andrews, do get a grip!_ her brain reprimanded her. _You survived a bloody dragon. You can handle this!_

But this was something of another nature altogether. It had nothing in common with fighting a dragon. In fact, when one was fighting a dragon there was something to fight, namely a very real and very angered firedrake, that could just end their lives, but that could also be killed by very real weapons like swords and arrows. The proof of that was currently lying in the middle of the treasury, as dead as the proverbial doornail. Fear was something that was far more difficult to fight, if indeed it could be fought at all, which Kate doubted. If there was some sort of weapon with which she could fight fear, then she would be infinitely glad and grateful for it. In the meantime the anxiety was killing her.

Kíli wasn’t feeling much better, but at least he was more skilled at hiding it than Kate was. It were the little things that gave him away. His face was carefully wiped blank, but his lips were pressed so close together that it was almost a miracle they weren’t bleeding and his free hand – the one that wasn’t wrapped around her waist to keep her from stumbling and falling –  kept clenching and unclenching around the hilt of his sword. And in those things he was so like his uncle that it was almost painful to watch, especially with Thorin’s fate still so very uncertain.

 _Bloody hell, Andrews, you’re sounding like a soppy heroine out of a crappy romance novel._ Common sense was rather unwelcome now. Maybe it was only so unwelcome because it also was absolutely right. Sitting here and crying her eyes out was not going to help her, not going to help anyone for that matter, to find Thorin. He may still be alive. There was not much chance with him having been so very close to Smaug when all hell had broken loose. But there was a chance. She would have to admit that she had not actually seen what had happened after she had ducked out of the way of Smaug’s fireworks and Thorin was a skilled warrior, who had survived battles and more fights that she wanted to know about. Besides, she had been worrying for naught as well when Thorin and Balin had found the side door. She didn’t need to panic before there was any certainty. At the moment there was no such thing.

‘I’m fine,’ she told Kíli. ‘I can walk on my own.’

Kate didn’t think there were many people in the company who really felt like disputing her right to be here, but Dwalin still didn’t like her and it was his opinion that carried weight with Thorin. Sometimes it felt like she was doomed to spend the rest of her days trying to gain Dwalin’s approval of her, her attempts doomed to fail before she had even started, yet never able not to try and make him change his mind about her for fear that would only make matters even worse. Right now, he tolerated her for Thorin’s sake, but there was no guarantee that he would not change his mind if he saw her behaving like this. And right now that was something she could use as a way to force herself into acting her age and pretend like she was in complete control of both herself and the situation.

 _You’re his wife in all but name and we all know it. I may not like it and I may not understand why he chose you of all people, but that’s the truth of it. In his absence, they will look to you. You’re his advisor as well as his future wife. You’re going to be a queen, so start acting like one._ That was what Dwalin had told her when she had been feeling sorry for herself when Thorin and Balin had gone “missing” on Durin’s Day. Kate didn’t know if what he had said was even true or that it was just something he was using to provoke her in order for her to start acting like a grown-up instead of a child, but what mattered was that there was a distinct possibility of the former being the case. And in that case, pretending to be a child was not going to do her, or the company, any favours.

‘Is there anyone else missing?’ she demanded when she got down, managing to keep the tremor out of her voice, even if she didn’t know how she did it.

Dwalin carried out a quick head count. ‘We’re all here.’ He gave her a curt nod that Kate would have mistaken for approval if she had been dealing with anyone who wasn’t Dwalin, son of Fundin. But he had never approved of anything she did or said and she sincerely doubted he would start today.

‘Right, when and where did you see Thorin last?’ There was always a chance, no matter how marginally small, that he had tried to run, had tried to get away and had fallen, hit his head and had simply passed out. That could still be dangerous – even with the advantage of having a thick dwarven skull – but it was preferable over death.

‘Not since he stabbed the dragon,’ Fíli said. He was a little pale, but he behaved like a future king by taking the initiative. The thought crept into Kate’s head that if Thorin was dead, as she feared, then he was not only a future king, he would be a king already. And by the looks of it, he was only too well aware of that possibility, aware of it, and absolutely dreading it.

They all were, even if they didn’t show it or, in the younger dwarves’ case, tried not to show it. It was a horrifying prospect and Kate felt herself slide back towards panic. And that was something she could not allow to happen, not if she wanted to get out of this with her sanity intact. And she was used to taking charge. Well, she was used to it in her own world, when there was a group project and her team mates were more interested in their Facebook and Twitter than the assignment. She just wasn’t used to it in this company. She’d never had any right to do it and, if Thorin had truly gone, then she would never have the right either. But Fíli didn’t give the impression of being the leader in this and doing something was a thousand times better than doing nothing. She might kill two birds with one stone. And someone had to do it anyway.

‘Right, anyone else?’ she asked briskly, taking care to clasp her hands behind her back so that no one would see them tremble.

All she got in response was a lot of variations on the theme of ‘No, I haven’t’ and that was hardly encouraging. Apparently everyone had sought some sort of cover when Smaug’s pyrotechnics started, as was only wise to do, but now it left them with nothing more to go on than the horrible assumption that Thorin had either been burned to death or was trapped underneath the heavy body of the dragon. That was a death sentence in and out of itself.

‘But he was running,’ Ori piped up. ‘Down the pile. Did no one see?’

If silence could ever be called loud, this one was. If someone had dropped a pin, they would all have been deafened by it. The astonishment was causing jaws to drop and eyes to practically bulge out of their sockets. Of all people present it would be young Ori, the shiest dwarf in the company and widely believed to be one of the more easily frightened ones, who had seen something more than the rest, who apparently had not ducked the moment Smaug started out on his crusade to tell the world just how much they had hurt him. That was a brave thing to do and Kate had to admit that she had never in a million years expected this of him. She felt proud of him.

‘Running where?’ she asked.

Ori grimaced and favoured her with an apologetic look. ‘Where the dragon lies now.’

She should have known that this was not going to be easy, but at least not all hope was lost. Maybe she shouldn’t rule out the option of Thorin having been knocked out against something – plenty of hard objects here that would have done the trick – and simply not being able to respond. ‘Did you actually see Smaug fall on him?’ she asked sharply, a bit sharper than she had intended.

Ori shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t. There was fire and Dori…’ He trailed off.

‘Dragged you down,’ Kate finished, knowing exactly what Dori could be like when he went into fuss-mode. At the same time it was rather strange to see Ori being so much braver than his much older and much stronger brother. But Kate was glad of it. At least now they had a reason to hope. ‘Well done, Ori. Right, we need to find out where he is. It may be he got – partially – trapped under the dragon, so I want Dwalin and Dori working on methods to move that beast and see what is underneath. Call in all the help you think you need. The rest, I want this place searched and turned over until you find him. Go through it with a fine toothcomb if you have to, but do not leave one coin unturned.’ There was some murmur of general agreement. ‘And Nori, if I find as much as one coin in your pockets that wasn’t there when we entered here, I’ll personally throw you out of the Mountain myself. And that goes for all of you. This is a rescue mission, not a bloody treasure-hunt.’ _Good grief, Andrews, you have been watching way too many cop shows. Just listen to yourself._

Her brother looked offended, but it was the well-known look he always had when he was being caught red-handed. ‘What makes you think…?’

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. ‘I may the weakest in body in this company, but I am not dim-witted. And I mean it, so don’t try anything. The priority is to find Thorin as soon as we can.’

Another round of nodding and voiced understanding was the result of it. She must have come across as more certain of what she was doing than she actually felt, which was admittedly a very good thing. As long as they believed it, it would be fine. Any attempts at fooling herself would be doomed before she even begun anyway, so why waste time? She had better things to be getting on with. As long as she was still capable of walking upright, she had better use the time she had at her disposal to search for Thorin. It was better than sitting here on her bum, waiting for the others to come up with results.

This opinion was however not shared by all. Most of her companions went on their way, but Dori had other plans. He marched over to her. ‘Sit,’ he ordered. ‘You need to rest.’

‘I am _fine_ ,’ she replied, as forcefully as she could without snapping at him. That was difficult though; Dori was wasting valuable time by fussing over her and if there was one thing she could not stand, then it was fuss. And Thorin needed all the help they could give him. Waiting here would not be doing him any favours.

‘You’re a woman,’ her brother pointed out. ‘And you’ve had a shock.’

Kate glowered at him. ‘So, whenever your mother’s had a shock, she put her feet up and let you do all the work, did she?’ She knew that this was pushing her luck and that she was crossing boundaries left, right and centre, but she didn’t feel like being nice. She felt like lashing out and she was not doing very much to control the urge. The anger was a way of coping, a mental shield protecting her from the poisonous arrows of panic and fear. If she was mad enough, she would forget about her fear and at least anger could be used as a way to get herself to act, whereas fear and panic would only cripple her, drag her into a downwards spiral which she may not that easily get out of. She’d apologise later, but not now, when it was all that kept her going.

‘No,’ Dori was forced to admit. ‘But she’s a dwarf. And I’ve always heard that women of the race of Men…’ He trailed off when he caught Kate’s death glare.

That was it, wasn’t it? If anything, it didn’t put her in the forgiving mood. Yes, she was probably the most fragile member of the company, but that did not mean that she fell over whenever she suffered a blow. She could hold her own and it was about time Dori learned that. ‘And you have how many women of that race in your acquaintance exactly?’ She didn’t give him the opportunity to answer, knowing full well what the answer was going to be already. ‘Thought so. Now, if you could just go on ahead and do what needs to be done, then I’ll be the judge of what I can and can’t do.’ She wouldn’t go as far as to order him about; heaven knew she didn’t have any right to. It all depended on what her companions believed and apparently they believed that she had some measure of authority, because of being Thorin’s future bride, if he still lived, that was.

Dori at least understood a dismissal when he heard one. Chances were he would direct his fussing at Ori now that she had rejected any attempts at him caring for her, but it would seem that Ori had made an escape when he could. She could hardly blame him.

He left and Kate made to do the same. Sitting back while Thorin was still missing was unacceptable. Maybe it was just something that came with caring about someone: losing the ability to sit back and let things happen whenever that person was in danger. There was a restlessness she felt and it made her simply incapable of not doing anything.

‘It was a good thing you did, lass.’

Kate was halfway to getting over to the search group made up currently of Nori and Bofur, having every intention to keep an eye on Nori herself. He was a scoundrel and might disregard what she had said about this not being a treasure-hunt when he spotted something he liked. She didn’t think he would deliberately value treasure over Thorin’s life, but he was a kleptomaniac and he could simply not help himself when he saw something shiny. It was a part of who he was. It didn’t make it any less annoying though.

The voice made her turn around. ‘Dwalin.’ It was as much of a question as an acknowledgement. Part of her was not even convinced she had heard him right. Praise from Dwalin, directed at her person, was rarer than four-leaf clovers. He tolerated her, maybe even accepted her, but it was always difficult to tell. True, she had followed his advice about acting more like a leader in Thorin’s absence, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly singing the Hallelujah Chorus about her taking charge and bossing the company about. She was expecting quite the opposite. Because this was taking charge in a rather aggressive way and that was something Dwalin had always detested about her.

‘You did well,’ he repeated.

‘If you say so,’ Kate said. Now that she was confronted with his praise, that she had been craving so much to begin with, she didn’t know what to do with it. In fact, it made her feel uneasy. It was one thing or the other, she supposed. Normally she would think a simple thanks would suffice, but this was Dwalin she was talking to and there was quite a bit of history between them, most of which was not positive by any means. The change was too sudden for her to handle and it had come at the most inopportune moment imaginable. ‘Can we go back to work now?’ It was not the school example of gratitude on her part, but she had never been known to excel in that anyway. ‘I appreciate you appreciating my approach to this, but I’d like it much better if we could have this conversation at a later date.’ _Careful, Andrews, you might make a politician yet._

‘I’ve found him!’ Ori’s excited cry put an end to whatever answer Dwalin had been about to give her. Thorin took precedence over everything else and for some reason he had been doing that for ages, even before she realised that he had been doing it. If anything that proved to her how unconventional and strange the whole relationship was. There was no method to it, nothing that could mark them as normal, because they weren’t normal. Kate had to force herself to stay in the present tense. If she didn’t, she’d run mad and that was the last thing they could use right now.

‘Let’s go,’ she told Dwalin. ‘Everyone, move it.’ _I may have watched far too many cop shows, but I might as well make use of it to get through today. Bit of a shame there’s no way I can punish the culprit though_. ‘Ori, is he still breathing?’

Kate broke into a run, Dwalin at her heels. It was a relief that Ori had found Thorin, but he had not told her whether or not the King under the Mountain was still drawing breath and that little detail had not quite escaped Kate’s notice. And she didn’t think it had escaped Dwalin’s either. The warrior’s face was as solemn as she had ever seen it before. And it should be, because Thorin was his closest friend. In this, they were on the same side.

‘Is he breathing?’ she demanded.

‘Can’t see it,’ Ori called back, apologetic. ‘He’s half buried under the gold and I can’t seem to move him.’

Kate inwardly cringed at the mention of Thorin and buried being mentioned in the span of one breath, but she was even more concerned when she saw just where her brother was standing. He seemed to be standing right next to the dragon and if that was where Thorin was lying, then Kate had a very unpleasant feeling what the other half of Thorin was buried under. _Good God, please no. If there is any mercy in this world, then please let him live._

‘Everyone, here, _NOW_!’ Tension made her unable to say please. She would apologise later, preferably when her husband-to-be had miraculously survived this. Chances of that were not very high, she knew. How many people would survive a full-grown dragon falling on them? Kate was not sure she even wanted to know the answer, for fear it may be none.

Ori had sunken back on his knees and was trying to remove the gold and gems from the part of Thorin that was not lying under Smaug’s lifeless body. ‘I think he’s breathing,’ he said. He bended over to check.

Kate could not see Thorin’s face from where she was and the tension felt more killing than the dragon had done. Her hands clenched into fists of their own volition. It was only when she could not quite complete the movement with her right hand when she realised there was in fact something in it. A quick glance to the right taught her that it was Bombur who had volunteered to have his hand squeezed into jelly. He wasn’t much of a talker and he – thank God – didn’t feel the need to fill the air with meaningless words or empty promises, for which she was eternally grateful. It was just enough that he was there to let her have a hand to hold. She found she was in need of it.

‘Do you think it’s our fault?’ Kíli muttered on her left side. ‘Because we asked him to put himself at risk?’

Kate had wondered about that same question herself and it was a tempting thing to do, lay the blame at her own doorstep. Yes, they had asked it of Thorin to take that risk, but he had been willing to take it. He had proven that when he insisted to be the one to deal the fatal blow, while the others spread out and made sure they were ready “in case of an emergency.” If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed him to be seriously suicidal.

‘No.’ It was difficult to put it in the spoken word somehow, as if she was blaming Thorin and trying to wash her own hands of her own part in the whole showdown, but she also knew it was the truth. ‘He’d have done it anyway.’ Thorin had practically been obsessed with the thought of slaying the dragon himself. Kate did not know exactly why. Maybe it was to take revenge for all those Smaug had killed, maybe it was because he believed that the gold sickness would find him to be a less vulnerable prey when he had killed the dragon, based on the whole idea written in the book that the lure of the treasure would be bigger when one had not conquered it oneself. But whatever it was that had made him take these bloody stupid risks, it had made him end up here and she still didn’t know if he was even still alive. ‘Ori, I don’t need you to carry out a forensic study of his face, I just need to know if he’s still breathing!’ she snapped.

Ori looked up. ‘He’s breathing.’

But that wasn’t all there was to it. Kate was no fool and Ori’s face spoke volumes. There was a complication of some kind. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, will you just spit it out already?’

It was not like her to talk to Ori like this and he was visibly taken aback by it. He recovered swiftly though, even if he was undeniably nervous. ‘His legs,’ he said. ‘I think they’re stuck underneath the dragon.’

 

***

 

Thorin woke up to pain, a lot of pain, and for just a few moments he was confused as to how it came to be that way. He remembered stabbing the weak spot on the dragon’s foot and the furious roar that had followed that action. There had been more roaring even when he had pulled the blade out and then the whole world had descended into chaos. The only thing, the only reasonable thing to be done was to run. It was not in any way the honourable thing to do, the brave thing, but it was the only thing that might just keep him alive and Thorin would have to admit that he was more interested in living than dying. It didn’t mean that he would not face death, if that was what came of him, but he preferred life over death.

And so he had run. But running down a pile of gold and gems was not the easiest thing that he had ever done. There was no marked path and more often than not coins and precious stones made him slip, making him slide more than run down. The noise in the hall was overwhelming, bouncing back at him from various places until he was no longer even certain where Smaug was. And it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he ran.

Thorin was not afraid. It was decidedly not fear that guided his steps. It was self-preservation that made him run. and he had done everything in his power to kill the monster that had taken his home. The rest was now up to Kíli and Thorin had no doubt that his sister-son would rise to the challenge. He was a good archer and the plan itself was not bad either. And it would be foolish to risk his own life in staying where he was when there was no need for it. He had no real wish to die.

In hindsight it would be impossible to say how long he had been running. It seemed endless and yet so short. When the end of his flight came, it was abrupt, sudden. Something knocked him off his feet, making him roll down rather than run. There was hardly any time to process what had happened to him before he saw something big fall down. All he could do was crawl back and pray to the Maker that he would not be squashed underneath. His prayers turned out to be for naught when the searing pain in his legs made him lose consciousness.

He came to when he heard voices all around him, finding his body to be sore all over. Thorin had been in more than one battle and that had made him able to determine exactly what was wrong with him. He had a couple of cuts and bruises on face, arms and torso, but that he was able to ignore. It were his legs that were bothering him. Something far too heavy was lying on them and the pain in them drew his attention almost straightaway. He had a lingering suspicion that he knew exactly what had hit him and that didn’t bode very well.

‘And you’re sure this will work?’ someone asked. That someone sounded an awful lot like Dori.

‘If you have any better plans, feel free to share them with me,’ Kate’s voice said. She was irritated, dangerously so. Thorin had lived through more arguments with his advisor than he cared to count and when she sounded like this, she was really just waiting for a good excuse to explode. Dori was well on his way to giving her what she wanted. ‘In the meantime my soon-to-be-husband is trapped underneath a dragon and I kind of like to get him away from that monstrosity if that’s okay with you.’

Dori could be heard to sputter his protest-cum-apology, but it was obvious that Kate was no longer listening to him. ‘Ori, Kíli, I need you to go and find a place where we can make camp. Preferably close by, with daylight so that Óin sees what he’s doing and with some source of water nearby if that’s possible. Try and find out if there are any means to start a fire. We’re going to need it.’

She didn’t sound like the Kate he had come to know. In truth, she sounded more like him when he was giving orders to set up camp. The Kate Andrews Thorin knew was not often in the mood to order others about, but she was taking charge now. And for some reason it seemed to suit her. At least nobody was questioning her commands. The King under the Mountain found himself unable to open his eyes or lift as much as a finger, but he heard the replies just as well as everybody else.  A queen in the making, his brain supplied.

Dwalin was now taking over control of what was going on, demanding that they got into position. For a moment he stupidly wondered what they should get into position for, when the answer was already provided to him. The weight was lifted off his legs and someone dragged more than carried him away. Thorin’s world exploded in pain.

The next thing he was aware of was that he was lying on what felt like a bedroll. He was still in pain, but he was no longer trapped underneath what he strongly suspected to have been the dragon. He could not say that he was comfortable, but Thorin had grown used to discomfort in his years of wandering around Middle Earth in search for work. This may be the worst predicament he found himself in for quite some time though.

He did not know as much about healing as Óin did, but he was aware that things did not look very well at the moment. His legs were burning in pain. It was the kind of pain that had made him pass out in the first place and he was too uncomfortably aware of that. He had seen many injuries. After the Battle of Azanulbizar too many had been hurt and no one had been able to sit idly by. There was work to be done and even he, not remotely qualified as a healer, had contributed by bandaging wounds and holding hands. In a way it had helped him to forget his own losses, his own wounds, at least temporarily.

He recalled sitting next to a dying warrior that day. Thorin had not even known his name, just the name of the wife and sons he was so sorry to leave behind. Grís and his sons Nuri and Turi. He talked only of them in his dying moments and how he feared to leave them, with his sons still so young. This dwarf had several bruises and stab wounds, one in his stomach, that soon proved to be fatal. He however also had broken legs, although broken may be something of an understatement. A company of orcs had pushed a great piece of rock on him and his companions. This dwarf had been lucky, as in so far that he was not crushed and killed underneath it instantly. The rock had however caught his legs and they were damaged. A man’s or an elf’s would have been shattered completely, but dwarves were stronger than those races, tougher. Mahal had meant for them to be that way, but the Maker had not created them to be invincible. Even if the dying dwarf had survived his other injuries, he may never have walked again.

And it was only logical that this memory now resurfaced in Thorin’s mind, when he may well suffer that fate soon for himself. A dragon was not necessarily any better than a huge piece of rock and although he had sustained no other injuries, he may still never be the same as he was. The thought of that hurt more than it should have done. He was lucky to have escaped with his life; he had expected never to see another sunset and here he was. Still, how could he lead his people when he had been crippled?

‘I’ll need water, bandages and something to make splints of.’ The grumpy voice of Óin pierced his thoughts. For once there was no sign of any deafness – pretended or real – and he was just a healer doing his job. Óin was not easily vexed, but he was when he suspected that one of his patients was in danger and the people around him were not doing all that it took to help him save aforementioned patient’s life. ‘And will someone get a fire going here?’

‘You heard him,’ Kate said. She sounded like she was close by.

‘We don’t have any firewood.’ Nori sounded a bit uneasy.

‘Do I need to spell it out to you?’ Kate was very nearly growling. ‘Then you go and find some. I refuse to believe that there is no wood to find in this entire bloody Mountain. Somewhere there must be wooden doors, furniture, stocks of woods that were meant to be used to light the fires…’ She trailed off. ‘Right now I really could not care less if you had to shatter the royal throne if it was made of wood. Just find me some!’ Kate was definitely in a bad mood. She tended to be like that when someone she cared about was in some form of danger. Thorin himself did not find it easy to be around her when she was like that, even when he probably did not have any right at all to accuse others of being difficult. It would be a case for Pot, Kettle and Black, as Kate would phrase it. He himself had not been easy to deal with when he thought Kate had been harmed in some way.

Nori presumably rolled his eyes at his sister. ‘I hate to say, but you do get more like Dori by the day.’

‘Then maybe you should stop giving me excuses for doing so, if you hate it that much,’ Kate countered. ‘Will you now bloody well get on with it?’

Thorin heard footsteps and presumed that meant that people were leaving. He was still struggling to find a way to move, to open his eyes, but he remained unsuccessful. It was as if something was keeping him down, but he could not identify what that was. All he knew was that it frustrated him beyond belief. He hated that he could not seem to fight his way out of this, when that was all that he had ever known. One way or the other, he had been fighting for most of his life and it was frightening – even when he only reluctantly referred to it that way – that he was rendered powerless, unable to do anything at all.

‘What are his chances?’ Kate asked.

‘Lass, it’s too early to say anything.’ Óin sounded reluctant to say anything.

Kate took that statement for all that it was worth. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to reassure me with empty promises,’ she snapped at the company healer. ‘I am not a weeping damsel in distress; you can tell me the truth.’

She was not a weeping damsel in distress, Thorin would readily agree, but she was in distress and the angry tones were only a way of masking it. He’d known her long enough to know. Unfortunately for everyone around her this meant that she was very difficult to talk to. It would pass eventually.

‘He’ll live if he doesn’t catch a fever,’ Óin replied.

‘He’ll be fine then,’ Dwalin said. Thorin had not heard him before, but then, his friend was not the most talkative of the lot and it was easy to forget that he was not there when he was not in his direct line of sight. ‘Thorin’s too stubborn to let himself die.’

‘You’re right about that,’ Kate agreed. Relief was obvious in her voice. ‘Bloody idiot,’ she added under her breath before she spoke louder again. ‘What about his legs?’

Thorin could feel that the half deaf dwarf was at the moment busy examining the limbs Kate had asked after and he could not stop himself from groaning in pain as Óin touched them. It was what he needed to get back to the real world and leave that darkness behind.

‘I’ve got you, lad.’ It turned out that Balin was here as well and that he was holding one of his king’s hands. ‘You’re alive.’

He knew that. But it hurt. Thorin would not say that he was easily suffering from pain and he’d had some bad injuries in his lifetime, but this had to count as one of the worst. But he was a dwarf; he could handle pain. It could have been worse.

‘Balin,’ he acknowledged. He looked around the room to see who else was there. Kate was sitting on his other side and Dwalin was standing behind her.

His best friend gave a crooked smile. ‘Gotten yourself into trouble again, have you?’ The tone of voice was amused now that the worst danger was over and he had the assurance that Thorin was not going to die on them anytime soon. ‘Should have known.’

‘Dwalin,’ he greeted, before looking at the company advisor. ‘Kate.’ She had overreacted the last time she had believed him to be in danger and he more or less feared that she would do it again.

She must have read his mind. ‘I’ve considered knocking some sense into you, don’t you worry about that,’ she remarked wryly. ‘But I’ve got a feeling Óin will kick me out if I make good on that intention, so you’re in luck today.’ Kate was trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant, but Thorin knew her well these days. She was teetering on the verge of a breakdown. The only mystery was why she had not fallen over the edge yet. She had been known to do that, when the danger was over and it all became too much. Maybe it was because this whole quest had left its mark on her, had made her grow up so much faster than anyone should ever grow up. ‘But if you ever do such a bloody stupid thing again, Thorin Oakenshield, then so help me God, I’ll kill you myself.’

He arched an eyebrow at her. ‘You were the one who told me to distract Smaug,’ he pointed out. He had meant to say that he was sorry for having her live through that, but something else entirely came out. Somehow he always ended up saying things he didn’t intend to say.

Kate seemed to understand however. A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘Distract him, yes. I didn’t say you should all but ask to be burned to a cinder, you stupid oaf.’ She hesitated again, but then the hesitation made way for the well-known what-do-I-care-for-the-consequences-expression. ‘I love you and I am not in a hurry to lose you.’ She stated it as if she was bracing herself for a fight. ‘And you just gave me quite a scare. No one ever told you poking dragons with a sword was a bad idea?’

‘Never got round to telling him that, I’m afraid,’ Balin said mildly.

‘So it would seem.’ Kate favoured him with a stern look.

Óin was still trying to work on Thorin’s legs and he couldn’t help but move as he did that. It was instinct to get away from the pain. It did however very little to pacify Óin. ‘Keep it still,’ he growled. ‘Dwalin.’

The warrior moved over to keep his legs in place and Thorin mentally braced himself for the worst. It had not escaped his notice either that Óin had still failed to make mention of how well his legs would heal, if they would heal at all. He had conveniently woken up just as the answer should have come and he didn’t think the healer did not think that well timed. So far he didn’t have the time – or strength – to get up and see the damage for himself and that didn’t do anything to convince him that this was not every bit as bad as he feared it to be.

‘Well, speaking of idiotic things to do, Jacko and I excelled at it,’ Kate said. ‘Maybe we were a bit too good at it. I don’t think I’ve ever told you about the time Jacko dropped out of a tree and broke both his legs, did I?’

Thorin shook his head. ‘Did they heal again?’ _Will I heal again?_

Kate nodded. ‘That he did. Not before both of us got our ears blistered by our mum, though. I think we were about seven or eight years old and we were playing in the garden,’ she narrated. ‘That was back in the day when my parents had not gotten divorced yet and my father had a well-paid job, so we had a big house and a large garden. And there was a big tree, oak ironically, in the back of it. Mum always forbade us from climbing it, but it was summer, we had no school and we were bored. Our mother was distracted by a friend who came calling, so there was no one to supervise us. Jacko claimed that he could climb the tree all the way to the top. Of course he was boasting as he had actually never done any such thing and I knew it, so I demanded proof.’

Thorin groaned as Óin did something to his left leg that sent a burning pain through his body and instinctively he tried to look at what was going on, only to find his sight blocked by Dwalin.

‘What happened then?’ the warrior demanded, clearly in on the ploy to distract the dwarf king.

‘Jacko agreed of course,’ Kate replied. ‘He was a boy and as far as I’m aware they are incapable of turning down a challenge when it is put to them. He made one condition though, and that was that I would climb in with him. I agreed.’ She smiled wryly. ‘That did not end up very well. Oh, we did all right for the first part. We had both climbed some trees before, but never one as big as that, which was why it was such a challenge, I suppose.’

‘What went wrong?’ Balin asked. Thorin must have squeezed his hand into jelly by now, but he never remarked on it.

‘Jacko slipped and fell,’ Kate recounted. ‘And he grabbed the nearest thing he could grab to stop himself from crashing to the ground, which just so happened to be _my_ leg. To make a short story even shorter still, we both fell. Jacko fell first and broke both his legs. I fell on him and only broke just the one.’ She grinned. ‘I think you could hear mum’s shouting on the other side of town, she was that angry. Only when she realised that neither of us was going to die and we had been checked over in the nearest hospital of course. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her that livid before, or since, come to think of it. I think she used to say that it was only because she was so scared out of her wits for us that she reacted that way. Stupid thing to do perhaps, but that’s how life works apparently.’ She shrugged. ‘So, if I do get angry at you again…’

Thorin knew what she was trying to say and it was an apology by any other name. He nodded at Kate to signal his understanding.

‘Then he probably deserved it.’

Thorin was unsure who was the most surprised out of the two of them when they heard Dwalin speak like that: Kate or himself. Dwalin had never liked Kate. It was not a secret. Maybe it was to outsiders, but it was a well-known fact in the company. This was a rather drastic change of heart and they all were fully aware of that.

Kate was the first to recover. ‘I’m glad we find ourselves in agreement over that one,’ she commented, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘Mr Dwalin, was this a peace offering?’ She tried to make her tone sound light and nonchalant, but the wonder and almost wariness was audible.

Dwalin merely nodded. ‘It is.’

Kate was about to react to that when Bofur and Nori came running back into the room, panting, and she changed her mind about whom to address. ‘What’s happened?’ Mild alarm was on Bofur’s face and the first signs of anger were on Nori’s. For the latter that seemed to be turning into his default setting, but it did not explain the alarm on Bofur’s.

‘There’s a bloody _elf_ in the throne room,’ Nori spat. His love of elves had decreased as rapidly as his love of Kate’s swearing words had increased during the involuntary stay in Mirkwood, Thorin observed. He also noted that Kate’s hint about shattering the throne if it just so happened to be made of wood had clearly been taken seriously. He told himself he should not have been surprised.

‘A _what_?’ Kate echoed disbelievingly. Nori made to repeat himself, but she silenced him. ‘Yes, I did hear you the first time. What kind of elf? How’d he get there? The front door is closed, is it not?’

‘No idea,’ Bofur confessed. ‘But he looked familiar. I think he was in Mirkwood and I think I’ve seen him in Esgaroth as well. The one with the red hair.’

One look at Kate taught Thorin that she was suspecting the very same thing he was suspecting. ‘The insect,’ he growled.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _What on earth is_ he _doing here?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: an unexpected and for some very unwanted visitor shows his face, Kate is not amused and Bilbo manages to surprise Thorin.  
> Please review?


	70. Unexpected Visitor

_And that, my dears, is one of the reasons I’m not particularly fond of elves; they have the very annoying tendency to stick their well-shaped noses in business that does not concern them in the slightest. It must be an elf trait, because I’ve never in my life met an elf who didn’t think it was his/her responsibility to get themselves involved in things that did are none of their business. But well, that’s elves for you. I’m sure you heard your father and me complain about it many times._

_The reason you heard us complain about it so often is because we’ve had more meetings with them than I can be bothered to count. We are neighbours of sorts – the Mountain is practically in their backyard – but the reason why there is always this much talk is due to another trait of elves: the want and need to discuss every tiny little detail of every arrangement we’ve ever made with them. Apparently it is not sufficient to write something down and be done with it. No, if you please – and especially if you don’t please – let’s just talk about it for hours and hours and see how we can make it more beneficial for us. I think that’s Thranduil’s foreign politics in a nutshell._

_Another reason why we see so much of the elves, despite their obvious dislike of us, is their curiosity. Whenever there’s a rumour, they will descend on it like vultures on a carcass to see if there is any truth in it. The elves may be some of the most tiresome creatures to walk this earth, but they have an almost childlike curiosity for things they don’t immediately understand._

_I don’t think Elvaethor’s sudden appearance was to blame entirely on curiosity though, not with everything that was going on then. Of course I was nowhere near certain of what was happening in the outside world and at that time, I don’t think I could even bring myself to care, but the moment I heard that Elvaethor was roaming around the Mountain when I was quite sure he had received no invitation to do that, I realised that perhaps I should have taken an interest after all…_

 

‘The insect,’ Thorin growled. There was no chance that was the result of very painful legs. It had more to do with the fact that the elves were apparently poking their noses in business that was not theirs by any stretch of the imagination.

And Kate agreed. When she had first come to Middle Earth, she had come with the idea of elves being very beautiful, wise and good creatures. The way they were portrayed in the first _Hobbit_ movie had to be thoroughly exaggerated. Unfortunately it took her just the one encounter with elves to make her eat her words. They may still be good, beautiful and wise to a certain extent, but there was also something that grated on her every nerve. They were patronising, she realised when she had given it some thought. They may not even realise that they were doing it, but the attitude was there all the same and Kate hated it.

Maybe it was a result of being the first creatures after the Valar who had been woken, even if the dwarves had been made before them. But the elves had been walking Middle Earth when the dwarves were still waiting to be woken up. Maybe that was what gave elves the idea – no matter how very much mistaken they were in that assumption – that they had the right to behave as parents tasked with the job of keeping Middle Earth’s children in check. Of course it could also be that they were the race with the longest lives, which could be an explanation for their arrogant and patronising behaviour, but in the end it did not truly matter what caused it. Kate just thoroughly disliked it.

‘Elvaethor,’ she agreed. It set her teeth on edge, even more so because with him there was no knowing what he was even doing here. Had it been Lainor or, heaven forbid, Galas, it would have been easy to figure out what they were doing here. Elvaethor however was such a riddle wrapped up in a mystery that she could not tell.  He could be here to help or he could be here on Thranduil’s behalf, spying on them. The worst was that she’d never know. One simply didn’t read an elf’s face.

But whatever it was that he was doing here, it was not coming to ask if he could borrow some sugar. There had to be something else – there always was when Elvaethor was concerned – and Kate was determined to find out, find out and kick him out of the Mountain as soon as she could afterwards. He may be on their side somewhat – even if she was convinced that he was so for more reasons than just a friendship with the equally mysterious wizard – but there was no knowing just how much and since she could not establish that, it may be best to exercise caution. And he sure was doing himself no favours by sneaking around in the Mountain. Balin was right, the front door was firmly closed, which meant that the only way that Elvaethor could have come in was by following the company in through the side door, something that didn’t do anything to make Kate like the elf any better.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Dwalin, Nori, would you like to accompany me?’ She was surprised at her own boldness, but then, Thorin was not really in the condition to be moved. He had broken both his legs and had more bruises than Kate wanted to know about, but according to Óin he was going to live. All he needed was time. Time however was a luxury they didn’t have when it came to the insect. The more she saw of the captain of the Mirkwood guard, the more she was convinced that Thorin was absolutely right in choosing that particular nickname. Very much like the insect, there was no getting rid of Elvaethor. It wouldn’t stop her from trying though. ‘If that’s all right with you?’ she added with a look at Thorin. At the moment they were at that strange stage where the roles were undefined and Kate really had no idea how far she could go before she crossed the line. But she knew Elvaethor and he had always been more or less courteous to her.

Thorin obviously did not like it, but whether that was down to his dislike of Elvaethor or his disapproval of her plan of action, that was not entirely certain. Being in a relationship with him had not made him any easier to read at all. Most of the time she just guessed right.

He have a curt nod. ‘Yes.’ He was probably in pain and annoyed on top of that, which made dealing with him an absolute nightmare. It’d be like talking to a wall most of the time. And Kate may love him – there was no denying that anymore – but she hated this kind of behaviour. _Trouble in paradise already_ , she thought wryly.

But now was not the time to dwell on it. She had an elf to kick out of Erebor. Well, one elf that she knew of. How likely was it that Elvaethor had come on his own? She had to admit that the chances of that were not all that high. If Thranduil had sent out his people to spy, then there was a fair chance there were more and they would need to be prepared for that, just in case.

‘Let’s go,’ she told her chosen companions, as she took Excalibur up from the ground. Walking around without a weapon would be the greatest folly. If Galas was roaming around somewhere, she was sure he would just love any excuse for cutting her down where she stood. A sword would be handy to have in such cases. And that was why she had Dwalin with her. He would be a lot handier than any sword she could bring. And Nori would just want to be around in case things got ugly. Kate had a lingering suspicion that he was just waiting for a good excuse to let his fists loose on an elf after what had happened to the company in Mirkwood. Kate however thought that things might not have been as bad for him as he had tried to make them all believe; he may not have succeeded in stealing the keys to his cell off an unsuspecting guard, but he had however relieved aforementioned guard of a necklace, a good few coins and a piece of parchment with what Kate assumed to be a poem in Sindarin on it.

Nori took the lead. He had been to the throne room and remembered the route he’d taken to get there. Give it another day or so and he’d know most of the escape routes as well, just in case he needed to make a quick exit. Kate supposed she could blame him for that, supposed she could blame him for the thieving and all that, but it would not be of any use. Nori was the dwarf he was, married to his craft, even if it was debatable whether his craft was a craft at all. Either way, Dori did the scolding for the both of them, so she supposed she could best stay out of it. And she had no intention of getting dragged into the endless arguments that had a nasty habit of developing between her eldest two brothers, no intention at all.

‘What was he doing?’ she questioned. ‘In the throne room, I mean?’

Nori shrugged. ‘Walking around, looking for something?’ He shrugged again to signal that he didn’t really know. ‘Didn’t look like your average thief to me.’

‘You’d know,’ Dwalin muttered.

‘Do you mean something by that?’ the thief asked sharply.

‘Yes, I do,’ Dwalin said.

‘I haven’t been stealing anything from you,’ Nori defended himself.

‘Nothing except a pair of socks and his spare blanket,’ Kate corrected, feeling weary of this already. Would it be that hard for some people to sort out their bloody priorities? They were still dealing with a major crisis right here and possible multiple elves in the Mountain. This was not the time to get into an argument and Kate felt her patience with nonsense rapidly running out. Good grief, it was hardly even noon and she was ready to bash a few ignorant heads together. Not a good sign. Admittedly, most people didn’t help to kill a full-grown dragon before lunchtime either. ‘Listen, if you want to argue about that until the sun turns cold, you’re welcome to do it, provided I don’t have to be present to listen to it, but not now. There’s a bloody elf under the Mountain in case you’d forgotten. I’d rather think that should be our priority now, wouldn’t you agree? And if you don’t, you can turn back right here and now and I’ll deal with Lord Elvaethor myself.’

Nori looked horrified. ‘Broken bones or no, Thorin would kill me.’

‘If that means you can keep your gob shut for once, then I’d say that he’s welcome to it,’ Kate snapped. It wasn’t a very nice thing to say, but maybe it would register the tiniest blip on his radar. Nori wasn’t the most sociable person around, but he was not entirely stupid either, thank goodness.

‘You don’t mean that!’ he protested, pretending to be shocked.

‘Keep acting like this and we’ll see about that,’ Kate retorted. ‘Same goes for you,’ she added with a glance in Dwalin’s direction. ‘I don’t care if he’d stolen the Arkenstone right now. We need to find out what Elvaethor’s game is. Everything else can wait.’

The company advisor wasn’t sure what surprise her more: her commander tone of voice or the fact that her companions actually listened to her. She wasn’t very used to either, but at the moment she had an elf to deal with and that overrode everything else. Maybe that went to show just how involved she’d gotten in this whole mess. Doubtlessly, Thorin would be very pleased to learn it. She wondered what Gandalf would make of it though. He hadn’t brought her here with the intention of her marrying the leader of the company, she was sure.

Wondering about Gandalf almost automatically led to wondering about the wizard’s friends and his potential friends. When it came down to it, they had no idea if there even were more and, if there were, where they might be hanging out. Kate disliked the idea. It made her skin crawl and she half expected to be shot down from behind any second now. Elves were good at all that sneaky stuff; they moved around more quietly than the burglar and they had sharp senses too. It seemed unfair that they should have all the advantages, but unfairness was apparently one of the certainties of life. One of the few certainties, as it was.

Nori led the way, walking as if the devil himself was at his heels. The petty argument already forgotten – as was probably best for his sanity, given the number of arguments he had with everyone – his mind was back on the elves who had wronged them. Kate almost had to run to keep up.

The throne room was not that far away though. The treasury was situated deep within the Mountain, to make things difficult on any potential burglar, but they had relocated to a small room between treasury and throne room – if Kate’s sense of direction was worth anything in this underground maze – and the walk lasted less than five minutes. They walked through a long tunnel that seemed to come to a dead end – and made Kate feel quite claustrophobic in the process – but then Nori pushed open the door and Kate found herself looking at a huge hall with a high ceiling.

For a moment it took her breath away. The movie had not done it justice, she decided, but at the same time she was not sure that any movie or photograph could truly capture the essence of this place. It was vast, huge and unexpectedly light. Kate was not entirely sure what she had expected, but she didn’t think it was this. Somehow her mind had come up with an image of a dark cavern, lit by torches and, if she was very lucky, a little ray of sunlight. The thought of living underground like that frightened her, but this, this was somewhere she could see herself living.

The room seemed to have been made out of marble; walls, floor and ceiling all. It was beautiful and, it appeared, mostly untouched by Smaug. Standing here, it was almost too easy to forget that not ten minutes’ walk from here a dragon’s corpse was lying on the ground. Kate was happy to let herself forget it too; this morning’s experience would surely haunt her dreams for many months to come and it would do so with less favourable outcomes than in real life.

And for the moment she had other and better things to occupy her mind. She spotted the famous red hair – that rivalled hers in brightness of colour – on the throne of Erebor. She narrowed her eyes at the unwelcome and unlawful occupant of the throne. Elvaethor was practically lounging in it and that was something that set Kate’s teeth on edge. What the hell did he think he was doing? And by the looks of it Dwalin’s blood had reached boiling point as well. Not that surprising when one realised that Thorin was one of his closest friends and he was nothing if not loyal.

‘Trying it on for size, are you?’ she called over to the elf as she forced herself into motion again. The captain of the guard of Mirkwood was sadly mistaken if he thought he could get away with this, because Kate had no intention whatsoever of letting him. This was pulling the tiger’s tail a bit too hard. There was such a thing as going too far. No matter how much he had apparently done for the company, she could not help but to remain wary of him and his motives. He was not on their side for the full hundred percent and that was enough to make anyone slightly suspicious. Kate could almost hear Dwalin’s teeth gritting in anger. Nori’s were too, if for slightly different reasons.

‘Lady Kate,’ the insect acknowledged.

‘I strongly suggest that you get up this very instant,’ she snapped, skipping the pleasantries. She had never been one for polite conversation anyway and she was not going to change the habit of a lifetime for an obnoxious elf’s sake. ‘Or I cannot be held accountable for the consequences.’

Elvaethor did as he was told. ‘It is good to see you still alive, my lady,’ he remarked. ‘Some had already given your company up as dead.’

‘Which is no doubt why you are hanging about here,’ Kate retorted. She had forgotten just how annoying he could be. True, he had saved their case in Esgaroth; without him the Master may have shipped them all off back to Mirkwood to get into Thranduil’s good graces. It did not mean that she had a newfound appreciation for his manners or that she suddenly was wholly convinced that he had the dwarves’ best interests at heart. ‘And speaking of friends, where are yours?’

‘I brought none,’ the elf replied. ‘I came alone.’

It could be that he was telling the truth, it could be that he was lying. Dwalin clearly thought the latter. Nori too was getting a bit too touchy-feely with his weapons.

‘And I am as likely to believe that as I am to believe that Thranduil has developed a sudden fondness for dwarves,’ Kate commented sarcastically. ‘I don’t believe you.’

For someone who was faced with a couple of heavily armed dwarves, who were giving every impression of wanting to clove his skull in half and be done with it, Elvaethor was almost too calm. He kept an eye on Dwalin, who clearly presented the biggest threat here – unless he was more concerned about things in his pockets staying where they were, in which case he’d better keep a close eye on Kate’s thieving brother – but otherwise seemed totally relaxed. That was not a good sign. He was in what could quite possibly be labelled as enemy territory and he was behaving as if this was his home, where nothing could harm him. There had to be more here.

‘My king has developed a sudden interest in dwarves,’ Elvaethor nodded. ‘Although I would not describe it as fondness.’

‘I bet,’ Kate muttered. ‘He has taken an interest in what is in the Mountain, hasn’t he?’ she questioned sharply. ‘Things that, I can’t fail to point out to you, do not belong to him, to which he has no right by any stretch of the imagination.’

She could feel her own blood temperature shooting upwards at the very thought. When she had lived in her own world and had read the book, she had always more or less condemned Thorin for not sharing some of this enormous hoard of treasure; there was plenty to go around. However, now that she was standing here, she started to understand the King under the Mountain better. If she had been in his place, she would not have given the elves anything either. They had done nothing but hinder the company since the moment they first encountered them and now they wanted treasure in reward? The very thought made her experience some violent urges towards the elf king and, in his absence, the captain of the guard.

‘I have no interest in wealth,’ the elf said calmly. ‘And I have not come to argue with you, my lady.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

Elvaethor pretended he had not heard that. ‘It is true that I was sent here to keep an eye on your every movement and to hurry back to my people in case the dragon’s fury threatened to turn to the people living in the area. I won’t deny that my king hopes for an increase in his wealth after your daring endeavour. It is not why I am here.’

‘Then perhaps you should tell us why you are here,’ Nori snapped. ‘Before we lose our patience with you and kill you on the spot for trespassing.’ Kate had a lingering suspicion Nori was enjoying himself a bit too much here. This was payback for what had been done to them in Mirkwood. The humiliation, the incarceration. She had not forgotten any of it either and if given the chance she would like to do what Nori did as well and lash out. But Elvaethor was different in some way and he had always been more or less kind to her. It felt unfair to repay him for that kindness by holding him accountable for crimes committed by his king.

‘I would love to hear an answer to that question myself,’ she nodded. Practise made perfect and she found she had little trouble imitating Thorin’s iciest tone of voice. ‘If you had only come to spy on us, we would not have found you. You have been spying on us these past few weeks, I assume, and we never caught sight of you, even if you aren’t exactly easy to overlook. That means that you wanted to be found out right now.’ She stopped for a moment when she realised that, if her theory was true and he had been around the last three weeks, he would have seen and heard more things than she wanted him to. It would also mean that the act she’d been playing in front of him and all the other elves was utterly meaningless. She could feel herself colour a bright red in embarrassment, but took care to check herself before it could get away from her. ‘So, why now?’ she demanded, desperate to not think of just what Elvaethor may have seen and heard.

‘To congratulate you on your victory,’ Elvaethor replied easily. ‘And to honour a promise I made to our mutual acquaintance to look after you to the best of my abilities. It is good to see that you are still alive and uninjured. I do hope your companions are still alive as well?’

‘They are,’ Kate replied. Bloody Gandalf again. _Does he think that if he’s not keeping an eye on us we will get into trouble immediately?_ ‘But you wouldn’t have risked being seen if it was only this.’ _You certainly would not have been sitting on the throne if that was the case_. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To warn you,’ the elf said. He didn’t twitch a muscle in the face of Kate’s growing irritation. ‘Not everyone wants to see the King under the Mountain return now that the beast is dead. Some people will demand a share of the treasure.’

‘Like your king and the Master of Lake-town,’ Kate finished, more irritable by the second. ‘This is old news to me. Whose side are you on anyway?’ It was the question that had been gnawing away at her since she had first come to suspect that the elf was more friendly to her than his friends were. It still did not make any sense and she was still as far away from solving the puzzle he was as she had been then.

‘That is something that is my concern,’ Elvaethor replied curtly. ‘As are my motives. You can rest assured however that I mean you no harm. I am truly rejoiced to see the beast gone and yes, the news of the return of the rightful King under the Mountain is pleasing to my ears as well.’

Kate simply arched an eyebrow at that. An elf happy to see dwarves return to political power, that was simply unheard of, maybe even more so than a union between a human woman and a dwarf. ‘Really?’

‘I know that you do not believe me, Lady Kate,’ Elvaethor admitted.

_Too right I don’t._

‘Yet it is the truth that I speak and if you would let me, I would prove it to you,’ Elvaethor said.

‘I’d rather you swore to it,’ Kate shot back. That was Thorin’s approach of choice and she found that it might serve her purpose well enough now. An oath was not something one broke in a hurry. It was the same for elves as it was for dwarves and at least that would give them all some breathing space. Really, why had she not thought about this to begin with?

Elvaethor looked a bit shocked, but recovered quickly. ‘If that is truly your wish.’

 _I wouldn’t have asked for it otherwise now, would I?_ It seemed that Thorin no longer had the monopoly on asking stupid questions. ‘It is.’ Living with so many uncertainties for so long had made her rather fond of things that were sure. She could build on that.

‘I, Elvaethor, son of Maethor, do hereby swear that I mean no ill to any member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield. I swear not to spy on them and cause them harm in either word or deed, Eru Ilúvatar be my witness.’

Kate nodded. ‘Then I, Catherine Sarah Andrews, do hereby solemnly swear that no harm shall come to you while you are under the Mountain, unless you break the oath you have just made, God be my witness.’

It may not be the wisest thing to give one such as Elvaethor her full name, but she was making an oath and one could not be false doing that, could one? And at least they now had some reassurance that the elf would not use what he knew against them. It had not escaped Kate’s notice that he had not said a thing about his loyalties, which was why she had left a loophole in her own oath. She could do cunning too if a situation asked for it.

‘So, with that out of the way, what do you want with us?’ she questioned.

‘I have told you of my purpose here, Lady Kate,’ the elf said. ‘I only wished to know you are well, which I must report back to our mutual friend. He is anxious to hear how you were getting on.’

‘So, he’s skulking about again?’ she asked, meaning that more like a rhetorical question. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

‘I apologise if my being here has caused you inconvenience,’ Elvaethor said. ‘If there is anything I can do to make up for it, then please do not hesitate to name it.’

‘You can clear the hell out of here,’ Nori was quick to say.

The advisor was tempted to roll her eyes. ‘Stop stealing my lines,’ she said without looking at him. ‘You sound ridiculous.’ An idea was forming in her head. It may not be one of her most brilliant ones, but it would work if they were lucky. ‘As a matter of fact, I think there is something you can do.’ She sized the elf up. ‘You did an amazing job of healing my injuries once. How well can you heal broken bones?’

Whatever it was that the elf had been expecting, this was clearly not it. ‘Your bones are not broken,’ he observed.

‘They are not,’ Kate agreed. ‘It is not for myself that I am asking. My husband has them, broken bones, I mean.’

Her explanation clearly did nothing to make Elvaethor understand. ‘Are dwarven bones not the strongest in all of Middle Earth?’

Kate nodded. ‘They are, or so they say at least. I am afraid that strong dwarven bones versus a dragon is not really much of a contest though. The dragon always wins, one way or another. Our own healer is doing what he can, but I would appreciate the healing process being sped up a little, if it is all the same to you.’

Elvaethor was silent for a little while, but then he nodded. ‘As you wish, my lady. If you would be as kind as to lead the way?’

 

***

 

The room was silent after Kate had left with Dwalin and Nori. Thorin was secretly glad that she had taken her obnoxious brother with her. The longer he was forced to put up with Dori and Nori, the more annoying he started to think them. Before the quest he had known both of them, but he had never been forced to spend longer periods of time in their presence. This had changed now that he was their sister’s intended. Nori, he learned, got moody when he was denied regular food and when he was being bossed about by his brother, which was always these days. Dori on the other hand got irritable whenever he thought Thorin was being inappropriate and when Nori was giving him trouble, which was also always nowadays.

‘Almost done,’ Óin announced. ‘You were lucky, lad. Your legs could have been shattered entirely if that beast had fallen just a mite bit different.’

Thorin didn’t even want to consider that possibility. It was quite frankly too awful to contemplate. He had been prepared to lay down his life for his people, but he had never even considered the possibility of getting away with his life, but being left a cripple. Battle scars were nothing to be ashamed of – they were rather a source of pride for him – but a king that could not walk was a king that could not lead. How could he be in the front lines of battle then, how could he visit foreign kings, how could he attend important councils? If Smaug had fallen a bit more to the left or to the right, that was the future he would have found himself facing and then what would he have done?

‘Thank you,’ he replied curtly. It was hard to say the words, but he owed his thanks to the healer. Without Óin, being a cripple would not have been out of the question and everyone knew it. He had seen the panic in the eyes of his friends.

‘Shouldn’t get this close to a live dragon,’ Óin muttered under his breath. ‘Fool-hardy idiots, the lot of you. You and your family. Always taking risks where you shouldn’t.’

‘Aye, well, it was a dead dragon,’ Bofur reasoned cheerfully, taking his pipe from his bundle. Now that the worst was over, the company started to relax.

Thorin himself was still very much on edge though. He didn’t trust Elvaethor. Well, he trusted him not to bodily harm Kate, but there were more ways in which one could cause damage and Elvaethor knew them all. He was an expert at elvish backstabbing and his coming to the Mountain was unlikely to mean well for any dwarf currently under it. Never once had he been able to guess at the elf’s intentions; they were shrouded in mystery. The King under the Mountain desperately wished he could go down there himself to deal with the captain of the guard of Mirkwood. He trusted Kate with this errand and he knew that in his condition he could not go anywhere at all, never mind all the way down to the throne room. It didn’t make his anxiety any less.

Óin pretended not to have heard Bofur’s remark. ‘You need to let that rest,’ he commanded. ‘No walking around the Mountain until those are healed or you’ll never walk properly again. So remember that before you start to grumble.’

Óin knew him too well, Thorin pondered, well enough to know the reluctant tolerance with which the king of Durin’s Folk endured the medical treatment he received. He was serious about his profession and would tie Thorin down if he got the slightest suspicion that his patient was about to blatantly ignore his orders, King under the Mountain or not. It was the way he worked.

He gave a curt nod by way of a response. He’d have to find another way to move then if he was not to walk himself, because sitting here for weeks went against the grain. It was not who he was brought up to be. And there was the book to consider. As soon as the people of Mirkwood and Esgaroth got wind of the news that Smaug was no longer alive and the Mountain was only defended by a dozen or so dwarves, the human and elvish vultures would descend on them and they had to be ready when that inevitably would come to pass. He would achieve nothing by sitting here and doing nothing.

The door opened and Bilbo Baggins entered. He had a look on his face that Thorin recognised from Kate. It was her well-known get-a-grip-and-get-on-with-it face and it would have been amusing to see the hobbit bearing the same facial expression, had it not been slightly alarming. It was the expression of the messenger who brought the bad news to an unwilling recipient. Could it be that there were more elves under the Mountain than just the insect?

‘Master Baggins,’ he acknowledged.

‘Thorin.’ It was clear beyond the shadow of a doubt that the burglar was nervous. ‘Could I perhaps have a word?’ Something about that seemed off, and all it did for Thorin was to prove that the halfling truly was nervous. He just could not for the life of him figure what he was nervous about. The dragon was dead and they had a bit of respite before more unwelcome visitors would come banging at the door. Unless, of course, the unwelcome visitors were already there, but in that case Glóin, Mr Baggins’s assigned partner for guard duty, would have been here as well. He wasn’t.

Thorin gave a nod. ‘Balin, keep an eye on proceedings in the throne room. Bofur, Óin, take over Master Baggins’s duty for him.’ Commanding was something he could do and it was something that masked his own insecurity about the coming encounter.

Because that was what he was, even though he’d rather die than admit to it. Things had become very strained between him and the hobbit after the latter had voiced his misguided intentions to make the book come true. Admittedly he had seen the error of his ways since, but the trust was already gone by then, on both sides. Thorin would never be truly able to trust Mr Baggins again, not the way he had done before. As long as there was a shred of doubt still lingering, he would always be second-guessing Bilbo’s actions and motives. It was who he was, it were reflexes born of a lifetime on the road and being deceived by greedy men. It had been a necessity for survival and old habits were hard to break. And sometimes it was better not to break them at all.

The hobbit on the other hand regarded Thorin as a hungry warg intent on ripping his throat out as soon as he possibly could. There was a measure of truth in that at least. The King under the Mountain still considered sending Master Baggins on his merry way, back to his hobbit-hole and seven meals a day, and be done with it. The terms of the contract had been fulfilled and there was nothing keeping him here now. The sooner he was gone, the better it would be for both their peace of mind.

Bilbo waited until the others had left before he approached Thorin, still giving every impression of approaching a dangerous warg instead of an invalided dwarf who was under strict orders to remain where he was or be tied down like a common criminal.

‘What is it you wished to discuss with me?’ Thorin demanded. It was not very reassuring for the hobbit, but being polite had never been his strong point unless it was specifically required of him in a diplomatic situation. This was no such situation as far as he was aware.

‘I found something,’ the hobbit reported.

‘More elves?’ Thorin questioned.

‘No, decisively not,’ the burglar answered. ‘That is, not that I have seen them and we went as far as three levels up to check.’ He was wringing his hands, had been doing so since the moment he entered, but only now did he become aware of it. Instead he clasped his hands behind his back. It was an improvement, Thorin supposed.

‘Good. Would you care to enlighten me as to what it was that you found if not elves?’ Thorin found that his patience, as in so far present to begin with, was rapidly running out. He’d had to be patient all his life and lately he found that nothing of it remained now. Now that things were set in motion, had progressed so far from where he’d started, he wanted to see it through, wanted to see it done. He had no time for stalling and idleness, which was the reason his current condition frustrated him so.

Bilbo Baggins took a deep breath and then reached inside a bag he was carrying over his shoulder, the way Kate tended to carry her rucksack for very short distances; casually flung over just the one shoulder. ‘The Arkenstone,’ he replied before he pulled the gem out of his bag. ‘I found it in one of the corridors I was checking and it is yours after all.’

Whatever it was the dwarf king had been expecting – and even about that he had not been certain at all – this had not been it. He had not been expecting to have the heirloom of his house handed to him by the very person whom the book claimed would steal it and give it to his enemies. This was the exact opposite of what the book predicted that would happen.

And he was sure that the hobbit knew this just as well as Thorin himself did. He must know what this meant, how much it meant. From the moment he saw the jewel lying in the hobbit’s outstretched hands, he had trouble taking his eyes off it again. For some reason it seemed smaller than he remembered it being, placed above the throne of Erebor. So many memories were attached to it, memories of happy times before Smaug had invaded the kingdom, of carefree times spent with family and loved ones, many of which had perished when the dragon invaded.

He held out his hands, almost without consciously deciding to do so. Bilbo understood what it meant and did as he was asked, even if the question was not asked in words. The stone felt cool in his hands. Up close its beauty was even more stunning, more overwhelming than it had been from a small distance. The Heart of the Mountain it had been called and once upon a time the world had come to marvel at its beauty.

But those days were long gone now and the precious gem had ended up lying in a corridor, all but forgotten except by the dragon, who had treated the heirloom of Durin’s line as just another part of the treasure he had stolen. He would have been aware of its value, but would have been ignorant of the emotional value it held to Thorin. To him it was a physical reminder of the good times, when Durin’s Folk had prospered and thrived in the kingdom they had made for themselves.

But it was also the gem that had – partly, admittedly – caused his grandfather’s mind to be overtaken by greed. Yes, madness ran in Thorin’s family, he was aware, so the greed had found fertile grounds for breeding gold lust and insanity. That sufficed though to make Thorin instantly wary. He carried Thrór’s blood in his veins, was a direct descendant of the last real King under the Mountain. While this gave him a right to the throne, it was also a risk and that risk was represented in the Arkenstone, the very gem he now held in his hands, knowing it was his rightful property.

‘Why?’ he asked the hobbit. _Why do you give this to me?_ He knew the book as well as the dwarf king, maybe even better. To do what he did now was uncharacteristic for him and they were both aware of it.

Bilbo didn’t need translating or interpreting the question. ‘A peace offering,’ he answered promptly. He had clearly been anticipating this question and had practised his answer. Now that Thorin looked at him, really looked at him, he had to admit that the burglar had come a long way from the sheltered halfling who had been unaccustomed to being out in heavy rainfall and whose stomach clearly took some time adjusting to fewer meals a day. He was still nervous, but there was courage as well and a strange determination to see this quest through. ‘I know you don’t like me, never have either. You think I’m a burden, a liability and you’re right. I’m not good at surviving in the wild on my own and I do miss home and regular meals. Whatever it is you are thinking about me, it’s probably true. But I am not a thief.’ He raised his head, almost stubbornly, defiantly, as if he was daring Thorin to disagree with him.

‘Yet you know the risks of acting as you do,’ Thorin insisted. He was not helping his case with this, but with the Arkenstone safely in his possession already he found that he dared to ask.

The defiance increased in tenfold, but it took until he spoke the words for the realisation to sink in that this defiance was not aimed at Thorin himself, but rather at the book that was currently residing in Kate’s backpack. ‘I will not let my actions be guided by a book that does not always come true anyway.’

The words closely resembled Thorin’s own attitude and the King under the Mountain found that he was touched. There was distrust still – once trust in someone was gone it did not return in an instant – but maybe they would not have to be enemies and in his current situation it was good to know that he had allies still, allies who were prepared to back their words up with actions. He had seen too little of that in his lifetime.

The thank you that should have followed the hobbit’s words got stuck in his throat though. He was not the kind of person to show emotion easily. And fortunately he didn’t have to say them. Commotion in the hallway outside the room was drawing his attention.

‘Have you lost your mind?’ someone demanded. The King under the Mountain was not all that surprised to learn that Nori was the owner of that voice.

This signalled the return of the group that had gone to inspect the throne room and Thorin put the Arkenstone away in his tunic so that it would not be seen yet. He was still unsure what to make of this and he would want to wait with revealing he had it in his possession until he had worked out what should be done with it.

‘You asked me ten times before and the answer’s still no.’ Kate. And she was angry. Well, irritated, more like. If she was angry, truly angry, she would have been louder. She was headed there though.

‘Yeah, but he’s an _elf_! You can’t trust him!’ Nori protested. If this had been anyone else, Thorin could have sworn Nori was pleading.

What had Kate done that would make Nori talk like that? Thorin knew that it was very unlike the advisor to make rash decisions, not when it came to the quest. But she was not afraid of making the occasional controversial decision either. And if she had for some reason put her faith in the insect, that must be the most controversial decision to date.

‘Every rule has its exceptions,’ Kate said dismissively. ‘And there’s no need to shout. I’m not Óin; nothing is wrong with my hearing.’

‘Just with your head. Ouch! What was that good for?’

‘She is your future queen,’ Dwalin grumbled. ‘A bit more respect would not go amiss.’

‘It’s not as if you are thrilled about this,’ Nori protested, still far too loud. ‘Pot, kettle and black if you ask me.’

‘No one is asking you, so best keep your mouth shut if you’ve got nothing sensible to say.’ Dwalin sounded distinctly disgruntled too now. ‘And if you do object, there’s a time and place for your objections. That is not here and not now.’

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ the thief said, sounding thoroughly displeased.

By now Thorin was not entirely sure of what was going on, but he was sure that it involved Elvaethor. He was the only elf Kate might potentially trust. Even that was unexpected, because as far as he was aware even that captain had been kept at arm’s length. She didn’t trust his motives, with good reason.

But before he could wonder about it any longer, the door was opened and the little group entered. Kate was first, with a face like thunder. Nori was walking half a step behind her, trying to keep up with her quick pace and Dwalin was next to him, which explained why he had been in a position to hit Kate’s brother. Behind them walked Elvaethor, completely at ease, it seemed. Balin was the last of the group to come in again. He looked doubtful at well, but rather than Kate, Elvaethor seemed to be the recipient of the doubt.

‘What is going on here?’ he demanded, decidedly not in the mood to guess at why Kate had brought an elf into the heart of the Mountain.

‘I brought back a healer,’ Kate declared. ‘When he treated me in Mirkwood, my injuries healed much quicker than they normally would have done. I figured that under the given circumstances it would not be an excessive luxury to have the same be true for you. You know, before we get any more visitors.’

Her reasoning was sound enough, but that was only because she trusted Elvaethor not to cause any harm. Thorin however did not share that faith. He had learned the hard way that elves, especially the Mirkwood elves, were not to be trusted. And Elvaethor, friend of Gandalf or not, was no different. ‘I’d like to speak to you,’ he told the advisor. ‘Alone.’

‘Maker be praised, someone here has sense,’ Nori muttered. He was rewarded for his troubles by a foul look from Dwalin, to which Nori rolled his eyes. ‘I am entitled to my opinions,’ he said, almost pouting.

‘You’ll keep them to yourself if you know what’s good for you,’ Dwalin retorted. He ushered the others out again and closed the door behind him, so that only Kate remained.

‘You don’t like me bringing him here,’ she observed, as she sat down next to him, so that Thorin didn’t have to crane his neck to look at her.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Thorin hissed. He could usually handle Elvaethor well enough, but he was defenceless now. With both his legs broken, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. He’d be at the elf’s mercy and that was not something he was likely to appreciate. Surely Kate knew that?

‘I’ve got his oath that he will do us no harm, in neither word nor deed,’ Kate replied. She grinned, clearly rather pleased with her own cleverness. ‘If he’d do a sloppy job, that would count as doing harm, I reckon.’

Thorin hated to even think it, but sometimes his future wife could be horribly naïve. For most people an oath would be good enough to make them keep their word, but Thorin had experience with elves. Thranduil had sworn an oath as well, but when the time came, he had not delivered on it. He was in no danger of forgetting that anytime soon. For all he knew this was standard elvish practise. ‘Elves do not value their oaths as much as you and I do,’ he said gruffly.

Kate’s smile only widened. ‘I know,’ she informed him. ‘Which is why I reserved the right to harm him should he harm you, when I made my own oath in return. I promised no harm would come to him, unless he broke his oath.’ She grimaced at Thorin. ‘I am not as stupid as you clearly believe me to be, you know.’

And she wasn’t. Thorin had never truly believed her to be either, not even at first, when he had been so strongly objecting her presence in his company and Kate had been doing the very same thing, albeit a little louder. But this, this was cunning, to an extent that he had not often seen before.

‘What is he doing here?’ he asked, considering the matter of oaths over and done with. Apparently Kate knew what she was doing after all.

‘Babysitting us, if you’ll believe it.’ Her facial expression was all the answer he needed about what she thought of that. ‘Clearly Gandalf doesn’t think we can manage without round the clock supervision. Of course Thranduil thinks Elvaethor is here to spy, but I think he is not exactly aware of Elvaethor’s association with our favourite wizard.’ She sighed. ‘For whatever reason I think the elf is genuine. I can’t figure him out, but he values his word. It isn’t much, but we’ll have to make do with him. Point is that we can’t really afford it to have you sitting here, doing nothing, not with all things that need doing.’ A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. ‘Besides, you know what sitting still all day does to your mood. It’s self-preservation as well.’

Thorin didn’t like it that she had a valid point. And she had it, a point. They could not afford to have him crippled for long, not when it was so likely that soon the people of Esgaroth and the elves of Mirkwood would come to demand a share in the treasure that was lying under the Mountain. And Thorin was of no mind to give it to them. It was not because of greed, although he suspected that vice played a part in the minds of men and elves alike. It was because he did not believe they were entitled something that had never been theirs. And they had not fought for the Mountain as he had. Aye, he would repay the men of Esgaroth for their generosity, and he would readily support the rebuilding of Dale if its people were of a mind to do so, but that was as far as his willingness went. And it would not go over well with the people who would soon come to the Mountain.

‘Good,’ he said.

Kate smirked. ‘I always knew you could be sensible when it was needed. Nori might not agree though.’

That was hardly a difficult prediction and true to expectations Nori’s facial expression would have sufficed to make milk turn sour in a matter of seconds. Elvaethor seemed a bit more uneasy than he had been as well, which might mean he had been given a tongue-lashing by either Dwalin or Nori. He treated Thorin with respect though and did his job well. Loath as the King under the Mountain was to let himself be touched by one he considered an enemy, it was the best thing he could do now and it gave him some peace of mind that Dwalin was lingering nearby, axe close at hand.

‘It will heal,’ Elvaethor declared when he had finished his examination and treatment. ‘The left leg was a clean break. You should not have any lasting effects. Your right is in worse shape.’ He met the king’s gaze. ‘You may have a limp for the rest of your life.’

Thorin’s hands clenched into fists of their own volition. It was better than being a cripple, but only marginally so. He would be able to move around on his own, but a limping king would be laughed at, he knew. And Elvaethor knew it too. He almost seemed sympathetic to Thorin, genuinely so.

‘There is nothing else I can do,’ he apologised. ‘You were very lucky as it was. No elf would have lived to tell the tale.’ It could almost pass for a compliment, but it was hard to tell with him.

‘I thank you.’ It cost him much to say the words, but they had to be spoken all the same. Elvaethor had done something good, even when it was not quite clear why he had done it. Fact remained that he had done it.

‘If there is anything else I could do, please, do not hesitate to ask,’ the elf said. It was strange to hear those words coming out of the mouth of an elf. Thorin could still not understand why he acted as he did. Surely this could not be all for friendship with an elusive wizard?

Kate shrugged. ‘Well, since you’re asking, you wouldn’t happen to know how to remove a dragon’s corpse from the treasury, would you?’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _How stupid of me to only think about that now. Let me tell you, there’s much wrong with the book and the way Smaug finds his end there, but if there’s one good thing about that, it is that according to the book, he at least died in a place where he was no inconvenience to anyone. If only we could be that lucky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: more unwanted visitors, Kate loses control of her tongue and Thorin has issues, a lot of them.  
> For those of you who missed it, I’ve finally gotten round to writing some more for Duly Noted; I’ve put two chapters up since I last updated this story. I’ve finally managed to write some of the requests I’ve had for that story, but I’d love to get a few more, so request if you feel there’s something that deserves a one-shot of its own.  
> As always, I’d love to hear what you think about this chapter. Please review?


	71. Unwanted Visitors

_How to remove a dragon in ten days, or rather, one month. I think that is easily the summary of our activity in the days that followed. When we first entered the Mountain with just one purpose – killing the dragon in it and thus reclaiming Erebor for Durin’s Folk – we had not thought for one single moment about the consequences of killing a dragon in his lair, especially when it was the idea to use aforementioned lair to live in after the deed was done. In hindsight that was something we should have been thinking about. Smaug was undeniably heavy and difficult to remove._

_We spent two days trying and failing to come up with a plan that was slightly better than dragging that bloody corpse all the way from the treasury to the front door and out. In the end we had to acknowledge the fact that there was no such idea, not in the absence of a wizard, and so we settle for that plan, be it a mite bit reluctantly._

_Dwalin took me on a walk to show me just how long that route was. On foot it won’t take more than ten minutes, seven if you’re a fast walker. And that is the shortest route. We needed to take one with doorways large enough to get a dragon through. Unfortunately that involved a slight detour and a steep staircase we had to drag the infernal beast up before we could shove him down the staircase that led down again. Just seeing the route we would have to take made me despair at if we would ever be able to manage it. You lot of course know that we did; after all you have never seen a dragon in the halls of Erebor._

_Thorin was the lucky one in this, the one who could sit back and watch the rest of us do battle with the beast. I think that is the best description for what we were doing, truly. The beast was impossible to move. We had ropes and chains – taken from some store deep inside Erebor that Balin still remembered – aplenty, so we secured those around paws and neck and then acted as glorified horses to get the drake into movement. That was the only way we could get anything done. Naturally a lot of chains and ropes broke, the most memorable occasion being halfway up the steep stairs and the dragon tumbled down again and slid down the hallway, undoing two days of hard work in the process. It turned out that a dead dragon was even more of a nuisance than the live version had been. Who’d have thought?_

_And that was leaving another rather unpleasant aspect out of consideration: the smell. Smaug was a carcass after all and dead dragon stinks, especially once the beast has been dead for some time. Smaug alive had been spreading a smell of something burning. Now that he was dead, this less than pleasant scent mingled with the stink of something rotting. As Smaug was big, there was a lot of dragon to rot._

_Elvaethor had been unable to come up with any more strategies that could work, so we had sent him on his way to deliver the good news of Smaug’s demise to the town of Esgaroth. The elf was escorted to the back door, which was closed behind him almost right away. Who knows how many spies were roaming around out there and we had no wish to get visited by any more intruders._

_We were of course entirely unaware of the proceedings in Lake-town. I only heard later and much of it is hearsay, but it is part of the tale and to leave it out would only lead to confusion on your part, so here goes. A few days after our departure Thranduil himself and quite a fair number of his men came to the town, demanding that we be handed over to him. The Master of Esgaroth regretfully announced that we had gone and that there was no getting us back, because by now the company would be close to Erebor and no one dared to venture near the Mountain itself. The great elven king himself had no ambition of doing that either._

_They decided to sit back and wait. Well, spies were sent out, but it turned out that Elvaethor was the only one brave enough to go anywhere near the Lonely Mountain itself; his companions thought a two day journey from it was close enough._

_Then the dragon was defeated and Elvaethor returned to bring that happy news to the people. That brought about a mass of activity. We already knew that the Master was a greedy bastard who had no love for dwarves at all, and apparently Thranduil was more than happy to stoke the flames of discord. His whisperings about dwarves always failing to pay what they should were noted with glee and his plan to take what he was owed by himself – after all, how hard could it be to take whatever he liked from just a dozen, potentially injured, defenders? – was met with nothing but approval. Thranduil was quick to offer his assistance on the matter too, hoping to gain some wealth himself, no doubt._

_Of this however we were blissfully unaware as we struggled to get a dragon’s corpse out of the newly reclaimed Mountain…_

 

Kate wiped the sweat from her brow as she perched on a piece of rock. It had been twenty-five days since Smaug had died, twenty-three since they had begun the tedious and unrewarding task of dragging his corpse to the main gate. The dragon was big and even though the dwarves were all physically strong, it was very hard to move Smaug all the same. He was too heavy to lift, which meant that they had to resort to dragging. After more than three weeks of doing exactly that, their muscles were aching and they were all anxious for it to be over.

‘Why did he come in so much easier than he gets out?’ Bofur had been overheard to complain several days previous. He was lucky that Thorin had not been within earshot, as he would certainly not have appreciated the humour. Kate privately agreed though. She only wished she could have remembered this before they went in killing dragon mode. Now they were stuck with the consequences.

‘Almost there,’ Kíli stated when they were taking a short break. All of them were bathing in sweat and their muscles were screaming for some rest and Dwalin, who was in charge of the whole operation, had conceded that they were entitled to a short rest to eat and drink some. That had not exactly fallen on deaf ears; everyone had dropped everything and had made for the nearest available surface, preferably some distance away from the stinking dragon, to sit down and catch their breaths.

‘Did anyone ever tell you that you have a particular gift for stating the obvious, Kíli Dragonslayer?’ she enquired sarcastically.

He aimed a half-hearted punch at her shoulder at hearing the new nickname. To Kate’s amusement it had stuck and it turned out that Kíli found it altogether difficult to handle the praise. He was entitled to it, Kate thought. Had his aim erred but a little, all of them might be dead now. And she’d much rather drag a dragon’s corpse, stinking or otherwise, around till the end of time than that she was dead.

‘Missed me,’ she informed him as she ducked neatly out of his way. ‘Water?’ She offered him the waterskin. ‘You need it more than I do.’

That was something that was undeniable. She had begun to suspect special treatment when Balin and Dwalin went out of their way to put her in more supervising jobs and kept her away from the real labour. She knew for sure she was getting special treatment when Dori said in about as many words that she was too fragile for hard work. Kate had thrown the closest thing to a toddler temper tantrum since she actually was one in protest, but the dwarves kept their feet down and in the end it was easier for everyone involved to just do as she was told, which decidedly didn’t mean she liked it. For heaven’s sake, they even let Bilbo Baggins help, but she was too _fragile_? That had delicate-female-treatment written all bloody over it and it had nearly made her boil over with righteous indignation again.

But making verbal protests was a waste of time and breath, but there were more ways to skin a cat. Without saying she helped giving that extra push or extra pull, secured ropes and chains and pushed obstacles out of the way. She was there anyway. What’d they want her to do, stand by and do nothing while the others did the work? Don’t be ridiculous. It was resistance for the sake of putting up resistance and she knew it. It wasn’t that she was that keen on working, but she just didn’t feel like being excluded. Bloody dwarves.

‘Thank you,’ Kíli said. He took a few gulps and sighed happily. ‘I’ll be glad when this is over.’

‘I suspect that goes for all of us,’ Kate remarked. ‘I don’t know about you, but that smell really starts to bother me.’

‘Only starts to bother you now?’ Kíli asked in mock shock.

‘Figurative of speech, as you well know, Captain Obvious.’ Kate rolled her eyes at him. Kíli was good company, she found. They’d been friendly with one another since very early on, but apparently no friendship could remain shallow after the friends bonded over killing a dragon together. Kate of course hadn’t actually done anything, but she had been there and somehow that was all that really counted. But it was Kíli who got stuck with the nickname. The advisor herself was happy to go through life nicknameless.

‘Are you making a job out of thinking up these nicknames?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Kate shrugged. ‘If you’d like me to.’ She frowned when she detected that was not what he had really been asking. ‘Why? What’s wrong with being called Dragonslayer? In case you hadn’t noticed, you did actually kill one. There aren’t many that can say the same.’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘But it should have been Thorin, shouldn’t it?’

That was what was wrong? Kate wouldn’t go as far as to say that she had expected this, but she had noticed that Kíli seemed to be reluctant to accept the title. At first she had assumed that he just wasn’t used to so much attention and that it would only be a matter of time before he would start to enjoy it, but that hadn’t happened. Thorin had wondered about that too, but neither of them had been able to come up with a reasonable explanation for Kíli’s behaviour. Well, at least that mystery was solved now.

‘He hasn’t been complaining about it, has he?’ she asked rhetorically. Of course, it had been Thorin’s wish from day one to kill the beast himself. He had voiced that intention on more than one occasion and Kate was pretty sure that each and every member of the company was in fact aware of it. But he had not been complaining about the way things had gone. Quite the contrary, he had been acting very mature. If he thought it should have been him who dealt the killing blow, he had not made that known to anyone.

Maybe it was because he’d had a part in the final showdown all the same. He had been the one to give Kíli the opportunity to fire that arrow by stabbing an unprotected patch on the dragon’s paw. Without that, Kíli could not have done what he had done and Kate reckoned that sufficed for Thorin, which was just as well. It saved them all a lot of drama.

‘No, he hasn’t,’ Kíli admitted. ‘But…’

Kate interrupted. ‘You know, Thorin already has a nickname. What’d he do with two of them anyway? It wouldn’t sound right now, would it? And clearly he hasn’t got a problem with you being the Dragonslayer here and if he hasn’t been complaining, then I’d stop whining about it. Heaven forbid, but you’re almost sounding like my twin brother sounded at age five when he didn’t get his way.’

Kíli arched an eyebrow. ‘What about you then? Did you whine as well?’

Kate smirked, glad her distraction had the desired effect. ‘I rather thought you knew me by now. I don’t whine, I shout.’

The laughter was unrestrained, the ice broken, and Kate was glad of it. She’d had her hands full being a social worker for Thorin half of the time, but she wasn’t planning to make an actual career out of it. She would have another career entirely, as Queen under the Mountain if Thorin would get his way, and he seemed awfully used to getting it, if only because he made such a scene – not the temper tantrum kind, but the unsociable and icy silent disapproval variety – that it was just easier to give him what he wanted. It wasn’t that she was opposed to marrying Thorin, because she wasn’t, but the whole queen business was something else entirely and she was not quite sure yet what to do with it. There was the whole business of Durin’s Folk not being thrilled with her being here. Maybe, if she was very lucky, they would get over themselves a few decades on and accept that she was there and that she was Thorin’s wife and that there was absolutely nothing any of them could do about it. She had a feeling though that they would not take kindly to her being the actual queen. Because as much as the race of Men disliked dwarves, the dislike was entirely mutual.

Add to that the fact that she was no politician and the whole plan started to sound like the worst idea Thorin had come up with in his long life. Kate didn’t understand politics. She had not understood much of them in her own world, so how was she to prevent making a fool out of herself in this world? And she had all the diplomacy of an elephant stamping around on the china. She couldn’t make nice with people she couldn’t stand the sight of. She’d make a horrible ruler. Admittedly, Thorin might not be too much better at it than she was, but he could do it if he really bullied himself into it. But that was different; Thorin had been born royalty. Kate on the other hand had been born the daughter of a lawyer and a school teacher. Lessons in diplomacy had not been part of her childhood the way they had been of Thorin’s.

‘You do,’ Kíli agreed. He glanced over at Dwalin, who was calling them back to work. ‘There we go again.’ He grimaced as he stretched his muscles. ‘You’re the lucky one, being a woman. You don’t have to drag that beast here, there and everywhere.’

‘You don’t have to drag him everywhere,’ Kate corrected. ‘Just out of the main gate will do.’ She snorted. ‘And I’m not sure how much this has to do with me being a woman and how much has to do with me being Dori’s sister.’

‘How do I get into that family of yours?’ he enquired, playful smile tugging at his lips.

Kate pretended to think about it. ‘Get chased by a warg, step in a rabbit hole, fall and knock his brother out of the warg’s way in the process. That’s what I did, anyway. Go on, off you go. I thought dwarves were supposed to love working or are you just the exception?’

‘I love working,’ he nodded. ‘Nobody said anything about slave labour.’

‘Now you’re just exaggerating,’ she told him. ‘And whining. It really doesn’t suit you, you know. Go on, I’ll be right behind.’

She had every intention of not giving in to this particular form of discrimination and they were almost there now anyway. Just a few more meters and they should be able to manage that before sundown. Of course the dragon could not remain lying in front of the main gate indefinitely, but for now it would be enough to have that beast out here. The rest was a discussion for later date. Maybe they could set fire to the carcass or something, although she wasn’t sure a fire-breathing creature would catch flame very easily, if it worked at all.

Kíli did as she asked and re-joined the others, who were receiving instructions from Dwalin. She would do as she said and join them soon, but she had become aware of someone listening in to a conversation not meant for his ears some time ago. ‘You know that you are meant to be resting, right?’ she asked without turning her head.

Thorin came into view. ‘I will not rest while my men are working.’

‘Fair point,’ Kate conceded. ‘But then your men aren’t injured. Like it or not, you are.’

And he was, even if Thorin hated the fact with a passion. Whatever it was that Elvaethor had done, it had sped up the healing process, as she had known it would. His left leg was all but healed. That was when Thorin had declared himself healthy, much to Óin’s protest, but this time it was the King under the Mountain who pretended to be deaf. Kate had argued the point as well, with equally much result. Thorin’s mind had been made up and not ten armies of orcs would dissuade him.

That didn’t mean that Kate could not worry for him. She wasn’t prone to do so, but this current situation warranted it, she was convinced. Because his other leg wasn’t healing this well. Elvaethor had warned them that could be the case. There was a distinct possibility that he would never walk as he had. At first they had all been optimistic, claiming that it was far too early to say anything sensible on the matter already. More than three weeks later and no one could sustain that fantasy any longer, not with Thorin’s left leg healing so spectacularly. Not only did the other one heal much slower, but Thorin remained in pain as well, something that only served to anger him. His temper was short these days. She could hardly blame him for finding this hard, but he was not pleasant company.

Thorin’s eyes flashed a warning at her.

Kate ignored it. ‘I know, I sound like Óin, I’m fussing and I’m doing a great job of getting on your nerves.’ She thought it better to pre-empt what was coming anyway. ‘But that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? According to Gandalf you needed someone who would not be cowered into silence just because you’re Thorin Oakenshield. And frankly, you’re acting like a child who had their favourite toy taken away from them. It doesn’t suit you any better than it does Kíli.’

‘You do not understand,’ Thorin said curtly, taking the spot Kíli had just vacated.

‘Your leg might always be a weak point,’ Kate said. ‘It doesn’t mean you’ll be a cripple for the rest of your life. It’s early days still. No one is even expecting you to walk three and a half week after a dragon fell on your legs. You’re pushing yourself too hard.’

‘I am using a cane,’ the dwarf pointed out.

Kate grimaced. ‘Like I said.’

‘I can’t afford to be weak.’

That was a slightly better answer than the one she had been given before, but not by much. Thorin was pushing himself too hard, because he didn’t want to be weak and, as he had so eloquently phrased it, he could ill afford it. No doubt Thranduil and Lord Erland would be banging at the door soon enough to demand their “rightful” share of the treasure. Thorin and Kate agreed that the former would not get as much as a crumb of bread, never mind that he got what he deemed to be his rightful share. True, there was more than enough gold in the Mountain to buy several kingdoms, but it was more a matter of what was owed and what was right. Giving Thranduil anything at all was not right in Kate’s book, not after the Mirkwood disaster. She might have felt inclined to repay him for burning a large part of his forest had they never met, but now she would rather die than give anything to that elf. A matter of conscience, she imagined.

And speaking of getting what one was owed, she had to admit to being surprised when Thorin told her Bilbo had given him the Arkenstone once he found it. That was a turn of events she had not anticipated, but she could not deny that she was glad of it. It would save them the extensive search for the bloody stone and that was welcome news. It meant that Thorin’s mind could be on more important things than just one gem, like removing a dragon from his kingdom and what to do when unwanted visitors showed up.

Having said that, she would have to admit that the beauty of the Arkenstone was unparalleled. Her breath had caught in her throat when Thorin had shown the jewel to her. It was beautiful, and even though she could still not quite understand how one could lose one’s mind over it, she could understand that having it being lost must not be a pleasant feeling. Seeing it in the hands of one’s enemies would be even less pleasant. She imagined she would be angry too, which was why it was all the better that it was no longer lost and now back in the hands of the King under the Mountain. _One drama prevented, thank God_.

‘We’ll figure something out.’ That was unfortunately the truth of it and the best answer she could think of. ‘They’re not here yet.’ She pressed a quick kiss on his lips, enjoying the fact that she could actually do that these days, and got up. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to remove some garbage from the Mountain. Nasty business.’

The hint of a smile graced his face. ‘Stinking business,’ he corrected.

‘You’re the lucky one,’ she pointed out. ‘You don’t have to get anywhere near it. Me, I’m stuck with that smell all day.’

The look in Thorin’s eyes told her he’d much rather be stuck with the smell than to be useless and Kate realised she may have been a bit tactless, again. Thorin was a dwarf through and through and idleness didn’t suit him. And he was a king too, which made it even worse, because he believed it to be his solemn duty to give the good example to his people. Sitting down, doing nothing, that was not giving an example by any stretch of the imagination. What he needed to learn though was that no one blamed him for not being more involved. This was how it was. If it had been Dwalin who had been injured for example, then he’d insist that Dwalin rested.

‘I know you’re champing at the bit,’ she told him. ‘But no one here is actually blaming you for not being able to help. You’ve always been the first in every attack and the last in every retreat. We know you’re not asking any of us anything you aren’t willing to do yourself. Give yourself a break and do as the good doctor says before you’ll get your ears blistered by him. If not for your sake, then for the sake of our hearing?’ She threw in her sweetest smile. She was cheating, but three weeks of trying to keep Thorin from doing something reckless had soon cured her of any dislike she had of the institution. One had to get inventive then. ‘Besides, you’re not doing yourself any favours now.’ She gave the leg in question a pointed look. ‘Keep this up and Elvaethor might yet be proven right about you never being able to walk again properly. Give it the time to heal. And I know you care about that.’ She threw in another smile to take the edge off her words. ‘For the record, I couldn’t care less if that’s the case or not, I’ll love you anyway.’

It had been meant as a “see you later and I love you” parting line, but the quick flash in Thorin’s eyes stopped her dead in her tracks. She was quite convinced that she had not been meant to see that, but she had and it explained a few things.

‘You thought _that_?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You thought I’d leave you?’ Intuition and plain common sense clearly were not all that present in Durin’s line. It made Kate wonder about the intelligence of the founding father. ‘Are all you men so bloody-minded or is that just you?’

‘You’d have every right to,’ Thorin told her. Oh dear, he was having one of his brooding moods again. That meant that he was difficult to talk to him when he was being like this. Kate hated it.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake!_ ‘You, Thorin Oakenshield, are being a right royal imbecile if you think I care about what you look like or how well you walk,’ Kate snapped. ‘If I care, then it’s for your sake, not for mine. For your information, you were never my type.’ Which was the truth; both Robert and Marc had been fair-haired and green-eyed. Neither of them had Thorin’s muscle either. ‘I fell for _you_ , not your abilities. Do me a favour and remember that. I so don’t feel like repeating myself.’

He looked as if he had the wind knocked out of him, which at least meant she must have gotten through to him. It seemed to be the only way to make him see what she meant, make him see sense, even if it was not the most pleasant way. And for the past three weeks Kate had felt more like a caretaker than a future wife. She loved Thorin, but this was not what she had signed up for. It was about time that Thorin started to act his bloody age. He was the elder one out of the two of them after all.

‘Love you,’ she told him before she dashed off. Let him stew it over in private. If this had not done the trick, then nothing was going to do it. She for one had no intention of waiting until Thorin got into touch with his common sense and stopped letting frustration and anger rule supreme. Until then, she had a dragon to drag “here, there and everywhere.”

And it was tiring work to be sure. Dwalin saw her and arched an eyebrow at her when she joined him. ‘Thorin won’t be pleased.’

Kate snorted. ‘Don’t you mean to say that Dori won’t be pleased?’ she asked. ‘Because in that case he can bugger off. He’d mollycoddle me to death given half the chance. So do me a favour and don’t start as well?’

Dwalin nodded. The advisor was glad of it. Whatever truce it was that had formed between them, it was paying off. Before he had tolerated her, now he seemed to be in the process of accepting her. And she found she liked him better for it. When he was not sending scowls at the world, Dwalin was fiercely loyal and Kate liked his dry wit and intelligence. She finally started to see why Thorin relied on him the way he did, even if he was not fully aware of that himself.

‘Your brother is not anywhere near,’ he informed her.

‘Why, is he mollycoddling Ori perhaps?’ she retorted. Dori meant well, no doubt about that, but his particular brand of care had the tendency to become suffocating very quickly.

‘I’d count on it,’ the warrior said. Kate felt pity for Ori.

If they’d had trees, they’d have cut them down and used the trunks to roll the dragon over. It would have been faster and easier than dragging and pushing. But Smaug had effectively made sure that there were no trees left nearby, which was why this whole mission was taking so terribly long.

But the end was nigh and they all knew it. Maybe that was what motivated them to give it their all and make sure that the corpse was lying a good few meters outside the door before the afternoon was half gone. It was an achievement and one Kate was extremely proud of as she admired their handiwork. She may not have contributed much to it in terms of physical strength, but they had all done their bid and she had been a part of it. It felt good to have been a part of something this important, to be part of the group. It felt like belonging.

‘Done,’ Dwalin reported to Thorin, who had ignored good advice in order to come and see it for himself. He was leaning heavily on the cane, but they had the good grace to ignore it. It would only make the King under the Mountain crabbier.

‘Good,’ Thorin said, before he shot a glance at Kate. ‘Thank you.’ She had the distinct feeling it was meant for more than just her contribution to the task of removing the dragon’s corpse from Erebor.

She gave a curt nod. ‘You’re welcome.’ Realising that may have been a bit too unkind she moved to stand next to him. ‘As long as everything is rosy again in our garden, I’m happy.’

It was Thorin’s turn to nod. ‘It is.’ From his lips that was as good as a declaration of love and Kate treated it as such.

But the words caught in her throat when she glanced over Dwalin’s shoulder and saw movement on the horizon, a lot of movement. _No, not now. Not yet_. Because she knew what this was, even if she had privately hoped this would never come to pass now that Smaug had not been given the chance to wreak havoc on Lake-town.

_Turns out our garden is not so rosy after all._

 

***

 

Thorin gritted his teeth in frustration and tried to keep back a growl of pain as he forced his disobedient leg on as quickly as he could. It wasn’t doing as he wanted it to and it hadn’t done so since the moment a dragon fell on it. _You may have a limp for the rest of your life_ , Elvaethor had said with what seemed to be genuine pity for Thorin’s condition. And he didn’t want pity. He wanted his leg to do as he wanted, as he _needed_.

Kate used to say that he ought to give it time, that he should take Elvaethor’s and Óin’s advice to heart – ‘For heaven’s sake, would it kill you to do as the doctor asks, Thorin?’ – and she was getting impatient with him not doing exactly that. But that was because she didn’t understand. True, an elf and a dwarf agreeing about something was rare, but Thorin was not about to give in to what it was they wanted of him, not when there was more important business to be dealt with. His kingdom was in danger and that overruled any medical advice he had been given.

Part of the reason why Kate had counselled him to give his leg time was because she believed that they would have some time still before the people of Lake-town and Mirkwood would come and demand due payment. He would have time to recover, she’d said, and Thorin could see that she wanted to believe it. But both of them ought to know better than to expect that everything would be fine. During this entire quest things had never once turned out the way he wanted them to. Misfortune had haunted there every step. It could be considered a miracle that they even had made it here in the first place.

‘You know that you could at least try to do this at a slower pace,’ she remarked wryly. She was ascending the stairs after him. ‘You’re wearing yourself out, you bloody idiot.’

‘How else am I to climb these stairs?’ Thorin demanded irritably. She would not be asking him not to go up and face the intruders like the king he was, but she was starting to act a bit like her eldest brother at times and that was something Thorin could well do without. It was worry, Bombur had informed him when he saw that Thorin was at a loss at why she was practically bullying him into sitting down while she went with his men to remove the dragon from his kingdom.

But that was the trouble, wasn’t it? It was almost always someone else who did what he was supposed to be doing and he was having none of it any longer. He tried not to feel it, but he hated it that he had not killed the dragon. Kíli deserved all the praise he got for what he had done and Thorin could not really begrudge him that achievement and the name that came with it, but it was easy to get bitter and resentful when he had been the only one to be injured and he would not ever be free of the consequences of this injury. It stung and that wasn’t just the physical pain.

But there was no need for his potential enemies to know of what was the matter, not yet at least. That was the point of this long climb in the first place; from the battlements they could not see that he was limping or anything but healthy and hale.

‘Where I come from there is the lift for such things,’ Kate retorted. ‘Unfortunately we don’t have these here.’ When he did not deem to prepare to answer that, she added: ‘Thorin, please let’s not quarrel. We’ve done too much of that before. I’m tired of it.’ She sounded it.

Thorin turned around. Kate had stopped, leaning against the wall.

‘Let’s stop this arguing, on both sides. If we’re to receive these foreign people, we should present a united front, not be at each other’s throat all the time. I understand your anger, your frustration, truly I do. I’ve been stuck with a broken limb once too, remember?’ She threw her hands into the air in exasperation. ‘And I know I’ve been acting like Dori far too much. I’m sorry.’

It took him a bit by surprise to see Kate like this. It wasn’t like her and the mood swing was rather sudden. Just a few minutes ago she had been raging in anger at Thranduil and his bloody scheming. His banner had been seen among the crowds of people that were now marching on the Mountain. Because it had been an army that came to the Mountain now. At first they could not have been sure, but they were now. None of them were sure what had warranted such a course of action. But then, Thranduil was so cunning that it would not surprise Thorin if he had poisoned the hearts of the men that had been so good to them against them only weeks after they had left. The king of Mirkwood was a master manipulator, Thorin knew that from bitter experience, and he had reason to hate dwarves, or so he believed.

At least they had a way of blocking their entrance. They had closed what little remained of the main gate and had then, ironically, dragged the dragon back against it. The beast was so enormous that it blocked the way in. ‘The dragon is good for something then,’ Kate had remarked wryly and Thorin had wholeheartedly agreed.

The King under the Mountain looked at the advisor. ‘I am sorry too,’ he heard himself say. It was not something he often said. But he said it now. He had to. ‘Catherine…’

She shook her head. ‘I’m just so tired of fighting, Thorin. It’s all we’ve been doing since day one. And I don’t want it anymore. I’m tired, you’re frustrated. That’s not a good combination, especially not now. If we are doomed to fight, let us at least fight against a common foe, not each other.’

It were sensible words, Thorin could see that. And if he was truly honest, he would have to admit to be tired of fighting. These past three weeks had been unpleasant to say the least. He nodded. ‘Let’s fight together.’

‘Still doomed to fight to the end of our days then,’ Kate remarked, but she pushed herself away from the wall and took the few steps that brought him up to level with him. ‘Let’s give Thranduil a piece of our mind, shall we? And do wipe that frown of your face. It really doesn’t suit you.’

‘You sound like Dori again.’ He meant it as a reprimand, but it came out teasing, even under the circumstances.

Kate gasped in mock shock. ‘Heaven forbid that happens. I love him to death, but God help me if I turn into him. Kick my behind if I’m in any danger of doing that.’

They ascended the rest of the stairs together. It had been a long time since Thorin had been here. The last time he had stood where he was standing, he had been dragging Balin out of the way of the all-consuming fire of Smaug. For a moment the memory was so vivid that he could almost feel the heat and smell the burning flesh of his people. The last time he’d been here was half an hour before he had been running from the dragon that had taken Erebor. So many years ago, but yet he could still see the burn marks on the floor and on the columns.

‘Memories?’ Kate asked softly as the other members of the company came onto the balcony as well.

‘Memories,’ he agreed. _So many memories_. Kate squeezed his hand. There was no much force in her grasp – her body was incapable of it – but it was a reassurance all the same. ‘But that is what they are.’

‘New battles to fight,’ Kate agreed with a sigh. ‘God help us all, will it ever end?’

Thorin shared her worries. He knew what was in the book. He knew what fate he’d meet if that were ever to come true. And that was not something he could ever allow to happen. Not to his sister-sons and not to himself. He had a life to lead and he intended to lead it. Even if he were to go through life a cripple, he’d still be alive. The book said that Dáin would be king if he died and after Dáin’s conduct, he’d not be anxious to have him take what Thorin had fought for.

He looked over the armies gathered before the main gate. Many of the men stared at the dragon’s corpse. It had been a stroke of genius on Dwalin’s part to have the beast’s head staring at anyone who came to the gate, an arrow sticking out of its eye. It was not the same one Kíli had shot in it – it had come loose sometime during the removal of the firedrake – but one of the same kind. It was a warning by any other name: if we can slay a mighty dragon, what chance do you think you’ve got?

‘Who comes here before the Mountain?’ he commanded. ‘And why do you bring so many armed troops with you?’

‘Lord Thorin, King under the Mountain! It pleases me to see you again in such good health!’ He may have been expecting Bard to come forward, as the book claimed would happen. He had not expected Lord Erland. _I told you not to take the book as gospel_. Kate had warned him about that again and again and it seemed she had good reason to. Something about this turn of events was dangerous. Bard was no true friend of them, but he was a reasonable man. There was nothing reasonable about Lord Erland. He had been plotting their downfall from the moment they had stepped foot in Esgaroth. Had the people not given them such a warm welcome, he would have given them to Thranduil without a second thought. And now he would be here to claim what he believed to be his, driven by greed and Thranduil’s menacing whispers. And he had but a small company to defend his home.

‘Lord Erland, what brings you to the gate of my kingdom with an army? Have I wronged you in some way?’ Thorin demanded. He grasped his cane so tightly that, had it been made of wood, it would have snapped in half.

Lord Erland had no shame at all. He met Thorin’s eyes without shame. ‘I have heard that more than three weeks have gone by since the dragon was slain, as we all can see. Yet we had heard no word of you.’

‘Yes, thanks for slaying the dragon for us,’ Kate muttered sarcastically. ‘Not a trouble. You’re very welcome. We look forward to your eternal gratitude.’

The sarcasm did very little to lighten his mood, but then, Kate had not meant to be amusing in any way. It was anger that found an outlet in biting sarcasm.

‘We have sent the spy your ally sent to us back with the news of the demise of the beast.’ It had been a long time since Thorin had to make use of his talents as a politician, but he had been trained to do so from a young age and he could still do this. With his kin, when he asked for Dáin’s help, he could speak freely. With elves and men it was another matter entirely. ‘We have not neglected to provide you with news as you claim we have.’

‘Yet we have seen nothing in repayment for the kindness we have shown you,’ Lord Erland said. He sounded very pleased with himself as in so far it was possible for a man to sound pleased with himself when he was shouting. ‘We have given you food, a house, every comfort you required, yet we have seen no payment for this. We come to demand what we are owed.’

‘Then what is the elven king doing in your company?’ Thorin was not fooled for even a moment. Greed, plain old greed was driving their every action. Greed, and revenge. Thranduil was out for revenge.

‘The elven king has long been an ally of us,’ Lord Erland replied. ‘And he has been kind enough to aid us in our righteous cause to ask for what we owed. He has told us that dwarves are often reluctant to part with what they wrongfully believe to be theirs. They do not always pay what they owe.’

‘I believe that you have heard the wrong story,’ Thorin said, trying to bite back the sneer he felt was threatening to come out. ‘It were the elves who refused to pay for the honest work of dwarves.’ It was a tale, a history, his people knew well. And even though it had happened long ago, in the First Age, it was a history they had not forgotten. It had caused distrust to the end of time. ‘And I will not negotiate with them, nor will I negotiate under threat of force. You would threaten me without having negotiated like your people did when Dale still stood proud?’ He would not deny that they had a right to payment, but this was not the way and he would not give in to threats. He had some pride still, even if the dragon had done a fair attempt at destroying it.

‘If you do not heed our words and very reasonable demands, as I am sure you can agree, you will leave us little choice but to besiege the Mountain until you have seen sense.’ Lord Erland sounded excited at the prospect. ‘We have learned that in your family these… sudden strokes of unreasonableness do happen every now and then. We are prepared to give you time to consider.’

Thranduil must have been stoking the flames of discord by spreading malicious rumours about Thorin’s father and grandfather and the King under the Mountain hated him all the more for it. The worst part of it was that there was truth in them. It did not mean that what had befallen his father would befall him as well and it was certainly not to be borne that he was to be insulted in his own kingdom. It was almost as if Lord Erland was trying to provoke him into war, he observed.

‘Is that it then?’ It was Kate’s voice that rang out clearly then. She had been attempting to squeeze Thorin’s hand into jelly for the past few minutes and her face was twisted in anger. ‘Have you truly sunken that low that the only way you think you can get your way is by shouting up at us with the threat of armies behind you? Are we not civilised enough to discuss this at the negotiating table anymore? If you would truly parley with us, why not do so? If it is however war you seek, why do you not say so openly, like any man of honour should?’

Lord Erland was taken aback for a moment. So, to his surprise, was Thorin. This was not the loud-mouthed advisor that he had known for most of the journey. This was a queen speaking.

She caught his glance and shrugged. ‘I know a thing or two, you know. No need to look so surprised.’

The Master of Esgaroth made a quick recovery. ‘And who are you that you dare to address me in this manner? You have no right.’

Nothing would have succeeded in angering her quicker. ‘I have every right. I am Catherine, daughter of John, wife to Thorin, son of Thráin, and Queen under the Mountain. This is my home and you are unlawfully threatening it. I have all the right in the world to question both your actions and your motives. If you are demanding payment, as we both acknowledge that you are indeed entitled to, then why not come to us in a more civilised manner? Are we savages now that we have to resort to this? Have you no shame?’

‘My lady, I am sure that you can understand…’ Lord Erland began. Kate had caught him off balance. Maybe it was because she was a woman and women of his race seldom spoke up the way Kate had just done.

‘But I don’t, don’t you see?’ she asked. ‘How could I ever hope to understand why my kingdom, my home, is threatened thus while we have freed this land of the dragon that has plagued it for so long? We would have you rewarded for the aid you gave us in our moments of need, but we would have expected that you would at least given us time to do whatever needed to be done. That you have the guts to come here and threaten war is beyond my understanding and I have no wish to understand it either. That you dare to bring the very elves who took us prisoner to our doorstep is even more bizarre.’

‘What would you do then, my lady?’ Lord Erland asked.

‘To negotiate in person, on neutral ground between your camp and Erebor,’ Kate answered promptly. ‘That is the offer we’re making and you can either take it or leave it.’

‘You cannot make threats, Queen Catherine!’ Lord Erland scoffed. ‘You do not have the men to make us pay.’

That was the weak point of her plan. Thorin agreed with what she had said, which was why he had not interrupted her this far, but it was true that they did not have any men with which they could give credit to their claims. She was overplaying her hand now.

‘I do not have them here, it is true,’ Kate admitted, glaring daggers at the Master of Esgaroth. ‘But if you think that an attack on the king of Durin’s Folk will go unanswered by his kin, then you are sadly mistaken and you will find out exactly how big a mistake it is, should you be as unwise to put it to the test. Our kinsman Dáin Ironfoot lives in the Iron Hills and he can be here soon should we decide to call on him. I advise you not to try my patience and play games with us, for you will find yourself a loser. We will meet tomorrow at noon. I trust you can make the necessary arrangements. As you can see, we have trouble getting out at the moment, since there’s a dead dragon lying in the doorway. Good day to you.’ She turned on her heels and marched off, back to the place behind the columns, where they could not be seen.

The others followed suit. ‘Well spoken, lass,’ Dwalin said. ‘He was asking for it.’

Kate grimaced. ‘I lost my temper,’ she growled, now seemingly mostly angry with herself. ‘And control of my own tongue. What the hell was I even thinking?’ She rubbed her forehead, as if she were fighting a headache. ‘Thorin, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I can’t believe I did that.’

Months ago he would have been angry with her for acting as she did, but her interference may have saved the situation. Lord Erland was not used to be talked to like this by a woman, which may have given them the advantage they needed. He could not fault her for growing into the woman she would need to be when she would truly be Queen under the Mountain. And she had claimed to be so already.

‘No, you did well.’ It was strange to hear himself say those words. ‘But I cannot go out there, not…’ He trailed off. He could not be laughed at. He would be laughed at when he came out with a cane. And he would be seen as weak. That could not happen, not with the threat on their doorstep. It would almost invite his foes – because that was what they had proven themselves to be – to attack. He looked at Kate. ‘But my queen can.’ He hated that he could not go himself, but the elves and men already believed that she was his wife and that would give her the power to negotiate on his behalf. And it would make it seem that he did not take them serious enough to come himself. And if he sent guards with her, she would be safe.

Kate’s eyes almost popped out of her sockets. ‘ _What_? Me? Have you lost your bloody mind? I am not a negotiator!’

Thorin shook his head. ‘No, but you are the Queen under the Mountain.’

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _It is the only way in which we can do this. Mahal grant me swift recovery, but there is no other choice now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin goes behind Kate’s back and Kate meets the negotiators. Please review?


	72. Terms of Negotiation

_Oh dears, I don’t think you could possibly imagine what that felt like. Believe it or not, I was terrified. I knew I was not a good negotiator at all. Yes, I tend to tell people what I think and I had done so during the quest, but never had I spoken with Thorin’s voice and with his blessing. This was something else entirely and a matter I could not let my tongue get away with me. I had spoken in anger when Lord Erland was insulting us and, miracle of miracles, it had worked and we had been given a little respite. But that was then and this was something else entirely. For the first time I had to not only pretend to be a queen, I had to be one. And it frightened me badly._

_You must remember that I was still not entirely comfortable with the idea of being a monarch. I wouldn’t know how to be one. I would readily admit that I am not a very tactful person and I certainly wasn’t then. Since those days I have learned a lot of course, although I still won’t lay claim to being a good example of how things should be done at trade talks and negotiations. But that was the start of the learning curve._

_And even I could not deny that someone needed to go. I even agreed that this someone should possibly not be Thorin. He was so anxious about not showing weakness to our foes that walking into their camp leaning heavily on a cane would not do us any favours at all. And of course I understood why Thorin wanted me to go. People believed me to be his queen, which would only make it logical that I went. I’d just had much rather that Balin went, who may look like a kind old grandfather – and was like that a lot of the time – but who could also be a fierce warrior and a very shrewd diplomat. People tended to underestimate him because of his friendly looks, but they never really knew that there was a very clever mind hidden behind the twinkling eyes and smiling mouth. It tended to work in our favour quite a lot._

_But I would not have Balin with me. Dori and Dwalin had been chosen as my bodyguards. Dori was self-appointed – he was not going to let me walk into a potentially dangerous situation all by myself – and Dwalin was Thorin’s guard of choice. I would not be complaining though. Both dwarves were highly dangerous in combat and if things went badly – something I did not dare think about too much – I could wish for no better people to watch over my safety, which was a relief, because I was not allowed a weapon. It would be a sign of distrust. ‘Sounds about right then,’ I remember muttering. ‘I’m not trusting them farther than I can throw them.’_

_Apparently that did not make any difference and I needed to rely on my brother and Thorin’s best friend to have my back and to make sure that my head would still be attached to my body upon my return. Still, I slipped a knife into my boot when no one was looking. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them and I felt safer with it. And apparently I was not the only one taking drastic measures, even if I was not aware of it…_

‘Do you think this is wise to do?’ Balin looked a little uncertain, but Thorin pretended not to see it. Instead he watched the old raven fly off. Roäc, offspring of the ravens that had once held the friendship of the folk of Erebor. Thorin remembered that, but with a touch of sadness, because it was long ago and the good days were long gone. Not only Durin’s Folk had dwindled during Smaug’s reign, but so had the ravens. Nothing was as it had been before and that weighed down heavily on his mind. He had to admit that he had barely spared them a thought since he had run from the Mountain that fateful day – his own people’s concerns and suffering had made sure that his mind had always been on other things – but every now and then a fleeting thought would cross his mind and he had hoped for their survival. And there had been every chance of that, because they had not lived in Erebor itself. They could fly far away from the carnage and build a new life in new trees. It saddened him to now find that their people had endured much of the same suffering the dwarves had suffered as well.

And he knew that he was asking no small favour. He all but asked Roäc’s kin to take a side in the conflict. The ravens had known the friendship of the men in the area as well and he had now asked them to choose against them by flying to Dáin with news of the wrongs that were done here.

It was the book that had given him the idea, even if a small voice in the back of his head told him that it was him who was preparing for war now, may even be inviting it, but then, this crisis was not of his making and it was beyond the shadow of a doubt that he knew that Lord Erland would wage war on him if only he got as much as half a chance. This was different. The men and elves were hostile first. This had nothing to do with him being crazy with gold-lust. It had everything to do with what was right. This was not right.

Deep down he didn’t believe that the negotiations would work, a thought he kept to himself thus far. He could tell that most of his company, and that included Kate, still believed that there was a possibility that the troops now blocking their exit would see reason, that they could be persuaded to turn tail and stand in the corner to think about what they did.

The King under the Mountain was unsure if Kate was truly this naïve or that she was just trying to force herself into optimism. He believed it might be the latter, but he didn’t rule out the former. Kate had demonstrated before that she was no good politician, that she didn’t understand the game. She had battled her way through it a few times before and because her opponents were too baffled at the time that she would talk to them in such a manner, she had gotten away with it. That was something he didn’t expect to happen today. These people were far too determined to be shocked into obedience by Kate’s sharp tongue.

But she may just buy them time. He could only hope and pray that Dáin would not abandon him this time. The book said he wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean he would really come. Kate had warned him often enough not to take the text as gospel and he had learned the hard way that he really should not do such a thing. But there was not much choice. He couldn’t sit idly by as Erebor was besieged by greedy elves and an equally greedy Master of Esgaroth. A king defended his people, in whatever manner possible. Much as he hated that he could not show himself to his opponents – he would not be seen as weak for fear that would convince them to truly attack – there were more things he could do and sending the ravens to the Iron Hills was one of the things he could do.

The negotiations would buy them time. It would be dishonourable to start a war while the talks were still on-going. With any luck that would be enough to give Dáin the time to come to his aid. Now that there was no longer a dragon to be reckoned with, he would have no valid reason not to come and the Iron Hills had after all joined the war against the orcs, that had eventually resulted in the Battle of Azanulbizar. They had come then, so it stood to reason that they could come again to defend their kin.

Thorin looked at his friend. ‘What other choice do I have?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘Would you have me surrender Erebor to them and stand by as they take what is rightfully ours?’

Balin looked tired. ‘You could give them a share, pay them off,’ the elderly dwarf suggested. ‘They even might like us better for it. You might just kill two birds with one stone.’

‘An unfortunate figurative of speech considering what we just did,’ Thorin observed wryly.

Balin remained silent, thus forcing his king into reacting to his comment.

‘It would be a grave injustice to give them what they aren’t owed,’ Thorin explained, using the opportunity to stand and lean on his cane so that he would not be forcing his leg too much. That would keep Óin happy. ‘I do intend to pay the people of Esgaroth for their hospitality. But not Thranduil. Not after what he did to us.’ The memory turned his voice to a growl. The injustice of that was something that was not easily forgotten and neither did he want to forget. ‘They abandoned us in our hour of need. That is unforgiveable.’

Balin patted his shoulder, even if he had to reach up to reach it. ‘I know, laddie, I know. But shouldn’t there be an end to the fighting? Even if we do win, we’ll be their neighbours. The Mountain won’t move itself away from them and neither will Mirkwood uproot its trees and plant them far away from here.’

Thorin knew this, knew this and hated it. But there was nothing much he could do about it. Like Balin said, they would be neighbours. Thrór had often cursed the fact and maybe that was what led him to consider Khazad-Dûm again, where they wouldn’t have elves for next-door neighbours. Thorin had not reminded him that the forest of Lothlórien was practically on the doorstep and in the end it had not mattered. In the end the broken bodies of his people had littered that ground and the elves, who must have known what was going on, had hidden behind their trees and done nothing, like Thranduil had done. It had decided Thorin. He would never return to the ancient dwarven kingdom. The memories were too strong.

And it would seem that wherever he went, he would have to put up with elves anywhere. They were the bane of his existence, but that didn’t mean he would pack his belongings and leave when they came banging on the door.

‘They don’t have a right,’ Thorin all but growled. It was hardly fair on Balin, who couldn’t help it after all and who was only trying to find a solution that was not bound to end in bloodshed, as this was rapidly seeming to be destined to be. He didn’t want it, but it might be necessary. This was his home, his kingdom and he was its protector. Elves had no business taking anything. ‘Do you expect me to squander the wealth of our forefathers on the likes of Thranduil?’

Balin took a deep breath. ‘Even with Dáin, do you think we will win a fight?’

‘Giving up is easier.’ It was a real growl this time and Thorin meant it in anger. Why was it that no one seemed to think Erebor worth fighting for? Why did they all abandon him at the first signs of hardships and war? Mahal knew that he had no craving for warfare, but he would take up arms and defend his kingdom if there was a need, whether his opponent was the might of Mirkwood or a firedrake with thousands of years of experience in fighting to his name. People had cowered before the dragon, had denied him the help he was owed and now it seemed the cowardice had even begun to spread in his own company. And it came from Balin, of all people, the one he had expected to always be there to have his back. He would not deny being disappointed. ‘Is that it? Is Erebor not worth fighting for?’

Balin gave him an exasperated look. ‘Of course it is. You know I agree with you.’ He laid a hand on Thorin’s arm. The dwarf king shook it off, and pretended not to notice the look of hurt on his eldest friend’s face. ‘But you and I both know that we may not be able to win this war. Aye, it would indeed be easier to give them some of our wealth, even if I agree that they have no right to it, and be done with it. Our people would be able to come home and we can gain new wealth for ourselves. We may even have the friendship of the elves as we did in the days of yore.’

‘I spit on their friendship.’ He had been in Erebor for some weeks now and despite Óin’s decree to rest, he had done a good deal of walking. There were many memories attached to the halls and rooms he passed, but many of them were spoiled by the bodies he had seen. There was no flesh left on them. Some of the bones were burnt black, others were broken. Not a single skeleton he had come across had been whole. It made him remember and the memories fed his anger. The elves had not come that day. Or rather, they had come and they had looked on as Erebor and Dale burned. And he could not truly blame the men of Esgaroth and the descendants of Dale for not remembering and making ties of friendship. They were not as long-lived as the dwarves were and their memories were short. The coming of Smaug was ancient history to them. He could not truly fault them for going on. Men did not hold grudges. They may hold them for a generation and the generation that came after the first, if the issue was great enough, but after that it faded into history and the people forgot how they had been wronged. Dwarves, however, remembered.

‘You may not be able to afford it, laddie,’ Balin pointed out with a weary sigh. ‘In a fairer world, you might. Not in this one. You can’t hang on to all the wealth of our forefathers either.’

It was plain common sense that dictated him to agree. ‘I may not,’ he conceded. ‘And the folk of Girion will have their share to rebuild Dale, I swear, but not Thranduil.’ His hope was that would bring the men to his side, that this move would make them keep their distance from the elves. Then there would be an alliance of men and dwarves, which might just turn the odds in their favour. Men were greedy; there was a good chance of success. ‘We owe him nothing.’ His tone of voice indicated that he had no wish to continue the conversation and Balin did as he was told. It still had its perks being the king, even when he was king of a threatened kingdom.

He stumbled on through the Mountain. His leg was aching; he _had_ been pushing it too hard and he was paying the price now. At the same time he was reluctant to do what he did. Elvaethor’s warning and Óin’s repeated scolding on the subject had made him only too aware of the possibility of spending the rest of his life a cripple. But sitting back and doing nothing was not an option. Too much was at stake.

And he wanted to see Kate before she went into the heart of the enemy camp. His heart clenched at the mere thought. It went against the grain to let her walk out into danger without a weapon to defend herself. He didn’t doubt that his foes would only get near her over Dori’s dead body and Dwalin would rather fall on his own blade than that he let Thorin down, but the danger was very real. Lord Erland was not someone who respected deals made and Thranduil was carved from the same wood. And they had numbers.

‘Oh, for goodness sake, Dori, that’s quite enough of that!’ It was the advisor’s voice that snapped him out of his thoughts when he came near the place where they had made camp. ‘I was under the impression you were combing my hair, not doing effective attempts at pulling it out. Keep this up and I’ll be bald by tea-time.’

‘Only lucky then that he doesn’t have till tea-time,’ Nori cheerfully observed.

The growl Thorin heard was most definitely of Kate’s making. ‘Not helping,’ she informed him. ‘Not helping at all. Dori, get _off_!’

Even though he was in a bad mood, Thorin had to stifle a smile.  It was Kate through and through. She hated the fuss and she hated the collective determination to make her look the part. That was something she had not given any thought at all, it seemed, until Dori remarked that she could hardly be sent to negotiate with all those lords in their fine clothes while she herself looked more like a beggar than a queen come home.

‘The only other alternative is that I go there in my clothes from back home,’ Kate had retorted. ‘Or naked, which I am guessing none of you actually want me to do.’

Thorin most definitely did not want that. And he remembered the clothing from her world only too well and there was not a chance that he would allow her to wear that, although bare arms would make for a nice distraction. He decided against it though. That was not the way to go about this.

It was Balin who had come up with the solution. ‘It looks like some of the apartments on the southeast side of the Mountain are not as badly damaged,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘We may find clothes that have survived.’

‘Surely they’ll all be eaten away by moths?’ Kate had asked.

‘Moth balls,’ had been Dori’s reaction. ‘We should go and see. You should look like a queen.’

Kate had grimaced. ‘But I’m no queen, am I?’

‘Yet. You’re not a queen yet.’ Thorin had looked at her. It was the truth. As soon as they had everything solved, she would be a queen, crowned Queen under the Mountain, a position no one had held since his grandmother had occupied the throne next to Thrór. Thorin hardly remembered her anymore, Queen Freya, wife of Thrór. She had died when a mine collapsed on top of her, several years before the Mountain fell. One time he had heard his father say to Fundin that it was for the best; at least she was spared the exile and her own husband’s lust for gold.

Kate was a different woman altogether. Freya had been tall for a dwarf, Thorin recalled, but where Kate was almost skinny, Thorin’s grandmother had been broad, with a big, crooked nose and an almost always smiling mouth. Her green eyes always had a twinkle in them, he recalled. She was gentle and hardly ever raised her voice, which was in sharp contrast to the company advisor. Yet both women had one thing in common: they were queens and they were respected, yet in very different ways.

It was one of Queen Freya’s dresses that Kate had been forced into. It would suffice to say that adjustments had been made to it in order to fit, a job that had taken most of the night. Dori had done the bulk of the work; he really was handy with a needle and a threat. Thorin would even go as far as to say that the dress looked as if it had been made for Kate, even if she looked absolutely miserable herself.

She swivelled around when she heard him enter. ‘Thorin! Where on earth have you been?’

But he found himself quite incapable of answering right away and he blamed the dress for that. It was deep blue, with silver embroidery along the hem, neck and sleeves. And whatever it was that Dori had done to it, it only served to emphasise Kate’s figure, which he found he was now in immediate danger of appreciating. It was only because he loved her, he reasoned, otherwise he would not have looked at her twice.

‘You look…’ he began, but was unable to finish his sentence.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Like a doll being dressed up?’ she suggested. ‘Ridiculous?’

His tongue formed the words of his own volition. ‘Beautiful,’ he corrected.

She tried to hide the violent blush that caused by a flippant remark. ‘Not exactly what I had in mind.’ Her fingers played with the fabric of the skirt. ‘It’s so heavy,’ she said. ‘And I’m just not used to wearing dresses.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m being silly, but I’m not comfortable wearing a dead woman’s dress.’

‘She’d have liked you,’ Thorin said. He didn’t know how he could say this with such absolute certainty, but he could. What he remembered of his grandmother mostly was her kindness, her love of happiness and her gift for contentment. Rather than shout and get her dander up, she tried to solve her problems with a soothing voice and a gentle hand. As long as her kin was happy, she was too. It was a rare gift and it was missed greatly when she passed. She would have reasoned that if Kate made Thorin happy, then by all means, why had he not yet married her?

‘Aye, I don’t think she’d have minded you wearing her dress,’ Balin said. ‘You look lovely, lass.’

‘Not too lovely, I hope,’ Kate remarked wryly. ‘I can do without those stares at my cleavage.’

Thorin could do without those as well, but he was not in the position to afford it. And she would be stared at, he knew. To men, she would be a beauty. Gone was the advisor in her men’s clothing and the messy hair that refused to stick in braids. In her place was a queen, in a dress that befit her status and with her hair finally combed into obedience, with gems braided into it. Nori had gone to collect them himself, having such a good nose for finding treasure. Dori had kindly relieved his brother’s pockets of the jewels he had kept behind and of several other items that had somehow found their way into the pockets of his coat, including Dwalin’s pipe and Bofur’s pipe weed.

‘You look perfect.’ His tongue was leading a life of its own today and he was not sure how well he liked it. ‘You look like a queen.’

‘Nah, she’d need a crown for that,’ Nori said. He was leaning against the wall, studying his sister carefully, probably memorising the jewellery and planning on how he could relieve her of it, Thorin thought wryly. ‘I can try to find one. There’s bound to be something in all that treasure that should suit.’

A look of mild alarm crossed Kate’s face. ‘Let’s not overdo it,’ she said hastily. ‘No need for any of that. I feel like an imposter already, never mind that I would wear a crown that does not belong to me.’

‘Yet,’ Thorin reminded her again. He didn’t understand why Kate kept avoiding the subject as if she had developed an acute allergy to it. ‘Dori, Nori, I need you to go downstairs to check if Dwalin is ready. Balin, can you get Kate her coat?’

‘Dwalin will be ready,’ Nori protested. ‘He doesn’t need me backstopping him.’

‘No, rather the other way around,’ Kate retorted with an exasperated roll of the eyes. ‘It means: get out.’

Nori responded with an eye roll of his own. ‘He should have said so then.’

‘He was being subtle,’ Kate explained. ‘A concept you haven’t quite grasped the meaning of, I’d imagine. Move it, Nori, I’ll be fine without a chaperone. What can possibly happen to me here?’

Nori shot Thorin a foul look as he moved past him into the corridor. ‘I can think of a few things,’ he muttered under his breath, but at least he did as he was told.

The atmosphere in the room changed once the door had fallen shut behind Nori. There was tension, most of it Kate’s. She practically radiated it. Her fingers were playing with a strand of hair that had escaped Dori’s attention. She twisted round her fingers again and again, avoiding Thorin’s eyes.

‘I feel like such a pretender,’ she muttered. ‘Even though I know I shouldn’t.’

She was right about that at least. Maybe she was pretending, but she would be a real queen soon enough, when this was all behind them and they could start living instead of surviving. Maybe it would cause some diplomatic rumbling when certain people learned that Kate had only been made queen officially long after they had started believing that she was one. That was something he would learn to live with though. For now it was the ideal solution. Kate, as queen, would be taken more serious than Balin, who in their eyes was just an advisor.

‘You have every right,’ he reminded her. ‘I have given it to you.’

‘I know,’ Kate said. ‘With my head I know.’ She shook her head. ‘But you were born for this, and I was not. Jacko was always meant to be the politician. We agreed my mouth was too big for it.’ She looked at Thorin and now there was determination in her eyes. ‘It won’t stop me from trying. I’ll do my level best, I promise.’ Her determination reminded him of the hobbit’s.

He took a step forward. ‘I trust you.’ _With all our lives I trust you. May Mahal guide your steps and guard your tongue._ ‘You will not let me down.’

In the kiss that followed that statement, he could sense her relief and he didn’t quite know why he didn’t tell her about Dáin, even when he trusted her so much.

 

***

 

The nerves seemed to have taken up permanent residence lately, Kate observed, when she wriggled past the dragon corpse, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she did so. The longer that beast was dead, the more he began to stink. And such a large dragon involved a lot of smell. Being to the source of that in such close proximity gave her the urgent impulse to give up breathing if that avoided the smell that came with it.

‘We ought to get rid of it,’ Dori remarked, as if he had read her thoughts. ‘Can’t be healthy to keep dead things lying around.’

‘Feel free to resume dragging any time you please,’ Kate muttered. ‘Only remember that right now the stinking thing stands between us and them entering the Mountain without permission.’ As annoying as that may be, it was also the truth. If that was the reason, she could deal with the smell. _Be glad that it’s not actually summer now. The smell would be ten times worse then._

And soon they would not even have the dragon between them. Soon enough she would be negotiating with the leaders of the area as if she was of equal rank and not just a lawyer’s daughter who was playing at being queen. Thorin had put his faith in her – even if it was only too obvious that he longed to go himself if only that were a possibility – and she was determined not to fail, even if she was afraid that she would. But then, with the opponents she would have and the thoughts of greed and revenge that were clouding their minds and judgements, what chance did she have? What chance did anyone have? It was like a battle that could not be won, no matter how hard one fought.

She knew this and she knew that Thorin knew it too. Her only hope that this would not end in disaster was the presumed presence of Gandalf the Grey. Elvaethor had more or less suggested that he was back, and that might be an enormous help if it was true and he was no longer intent on following the book to its conclusion.

 _Why on earth do all girls want to be princesses?_ Kate thought furiously, even as her mind already provided her with the answer. _Because they don’t know about the responsibilities and because I’d bet princesses have easier lives than queens_. She didn’t know of course; she’d never been a princess. _No, straight on to the top, that’s me_.

Dwalin came to walk next to her on her right, Dori on her left. Officially they should walk half a step behind her, but Kate preferred it this way. After all, if danger came, it would not come from behind. It was her front that needed protecting and she had the lingering suspicion that if that happened, she would be long dead ere she could get at the knife she had hidden in her boot. Nevertheless, it was a reassurance to have the weapon with her. It was better than nothing.

The allied armies of men and elves had set up a tent in the middle of the empty space between Mountain and camp. It was a strange contrast: the white tent on the scorched earth. It almost would make one believe that the people now gathered in aforementioned tent were good and had everyone’s best interests at heart. The only thing Kate knew for sure was that there were bound to be a lot of big egos assembled and grudges that had been brewing for centuries. It made her wonder what Thrór may have done wrong for Thranduil to loathe his descendants the way he clearly did.

It also made her wonder about the woman whose dress she now wore, Queen Freya, wife to Thrór and last Queen under the Mountain before it fell. She had been broad of hips and shoulders, that was for sure; she’d seen the gown before Dori had his merry way with it. It was made of a blue velvet and it was heavy, but beautiful in its own way. She just didn’t think it looked well on her. No matter what others said – and Thorin’s jaw seemed to have been dropping in a good way when he laid eyes on her – Kate still felt like a plump pigeon, something she hadn’t told the others though; no need to offend her brother’s work.

Queen Freya herself seemed to have been a kind and gentle woman. Thorin clearly found it hard to speak of those he had lost, and so she had turned to Balin for information. The way he talked about her had led Kate to believe that she was the polar opposite of what Kate was like, in personality as well as in body. If that was the case, she felt like she could do with a bit of the deceased queen’s wisdom right now, if she didn’t want to make a mess of things.

The nervousness subsided somewhat when she saw who had been sent out of the tent to welcome her and to escort her in. Elvaethor was not exactly a sight for sore eyes, but he was also one of the few she knew to be somewhat on their side. On top of that she had his oath not to harm the company, neither in word nor deed.

He bowed to her. ‘Lady Kate. You look positively radiant this fine morning.’ He winked at her, of all things, when he met her gaze. It was met by a low growl from Dwalin’s throat, a clear sign to back off, something Kate found herself agreeing to. Elvaethor may have their best interests at heart, but that didn’t mean she suddenly appreciated his mannerisms. As far as she was aware, he was still as annoying as he had ever been. And she had never taken him for the flattering type anyway.

‘Well met, Lord Elvaethor,’ she replied coolly. ‘I see you are still in excellent health, as you were when last I saw you.’ There, that had be polite enough. She wasn’t really one for small talk anyway, especially not when she was nervous and wanted the whole thing over and done with as soon as she could. Nerves, she had learned, were very good tenants and they didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.

‘Would you do me the honour of letting me accompany you into the tent?’ the elf asked as he offered her his arm.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Would it make a difference if I said no?’ she asked rhetorically.

She shouldn’t push away what little allies she had, she knew, but she still couldn’t get the measure of Elvaethor. Nevertheless she gave a reassuring nod at Dwalin and her brother, whose ambition it seemed to glare the captain of the guard to death, and took Elvaethor’s arm, which was impractical for more than one reason. It was one hand less to keep up her skirts. And that was clearly necessary. If Kate had a say in the matter, he would have cut off several inches and she had definitely told him to do exactly that, but Dori had protested that would not be decent and it would ruin the embroidery as well. No, it would apparently be better if she made a fool out of herself when she tripped over the hem and fell flat on her face instead.

An elven guard held open the tent and bowed to her when she entered. ‘My lady.’

Kate just nodded her acknowledgement. It had not escaped her notice that the elf in question was just as heavily armed as her own guards; clearly no one trusted the other. And she may not know very much about politics, but distrust was not something one built on, not if one wanted it to last. A cold shiver went down her spine. Had she not walked straight into a trap? It certainly felt that way.

And it even felt more threatening when she saw the occupants of the tent, all gathered around a round table of elvish make – only they would bother with carving out such delicate patterns in the wood – that seemed to be modelled on the Round Table of the Arthurian legend. _All equals here?_ Kate wondered, but she rather doubted that as she had a good look around. She wouldn’t find friends here and it was obvious that most of those present thought themselves far above her. It made her want to run and hide.

‘My lords, ladies, I present to you Catherine, wife to Thorin, son of Thráin, and Queen under the Mountain,’ Elvaethor introduced her formally.

The small space could have been filled with statues for all the reaction that caused. It made Dwalin go rather touchy-feely with his axe. Kate herself felt the urge to dig up her knife and to hell with the consequences. It made her feel a little safer and that she could use. In this cursed dress she wouldn’t even be able to run five meters before she would trip and fall.

Elvaethor either had not noticed the icy atmosphere or he ignored it when he took her hand and led her further into the tent to introduce her to the men and elves in it. Kate had seen a few familiar faces and that had done nothing to put her a little more at ease.

‘May I introduce you to my king, Thranduil of Mirkwood?’ Elvaethor said.

Thranduil took her hand and placed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving her face, as if he was afraid she would harm him if he didn’t keep her in his sight. He did all this with a face as if he had been forced to chew a very sour lemon. He didn’t speak a word and Kate returned the favour. She could almost feel the hostility radiating off him.

His son seemed to be a bit nicer, even if his stare reminded her a tad bit too much of Elvaethor; like she was an oddity to add to the collection. ‘Prince Legolas,’ she acknowledged when Elvaethor introduced him. She had no quarrel with him – yet – and a bit of decency had never hurt anyone. ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance in slightly more favourable circumstances.’ And Thranduil could take that hint and run with it.

The half-mocking smile on his face betrayed that he knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘Queen Catherine,’ he acknowledged. ‘It is a pleasure indeed.’ He seemed to mean it.

Lord Lainor had no more kindness for her than his king had demonstrated and Kate in turn only gave him a cool glance in acknowledgement. Galas didn’t even kiss her hand. She wasn’t sure what he was doing here, but his presence was no good omen. By the looks of it he would have ignored her if he could, but that was something he would not be able to get away with, so he settled for a curt nod to acknowledge her presence, after which he apparently hoped she would move on to the next person.

Kate would have been happy to oblige if not for the next person in line, a female elf with the same red hair as Elvaethor. ‘Won’t you greet Queen Catherine properly, Lord Galas?’ she demanded.

Kate however had no ambition to be properly greeted by Thranduil’s nephew. ‘I am afraid that Lord Galas and I have already met and parted under less than pleasant circumstances, my lady,’ she told the elf. ‘There is no love lost between us.’ And there was an understatement if ever she had spoken one. The last time she had seen Galas, he had threatened torture on her to make Thorin comply with his king’s wishes. As a result he had been knocked unconscious by Dori. Judging by the glances those two exchanged, neither had forgotten that little encounter.

The elf looked doubtful, but gave in. ‘If you say so, my lady.’

To her surprise, Elvaethor’s face had split into a grin. ‘Queen Catherine, allow me to introduce you to my sister Tauriel, who has recently been promoted to captain of the guard. Sister, this is Queen Kate.’ He used the shortened version of her name as if he had every right to use it, but she liked it. It was a bit less formal.

Kate however arched an eyebrow. ‘Last I heard, you were the captain of the guard, Lord Elvaethor,’ she remarked. ‘Is it a shared position and are there more captains that I am not aware of?’

The elf shook his head. ‘Alas, that is not the case.’

‘Then what happened?’ Kate demanded. She was well aware that everyone could hear her, but this was currently a little more important.

‘Unfortunately after my failings to deal with my king’s business in a satisfactory manner, it was thought best to relieve me of my post. I am here as an advisor now.’

Kate gritted her teeth when she realised that Elvaethor’s actions in the past months had incurred his king’s wrath and that it had cost him. In a fairer world this would not have happened, but then, they did not live in fair world.

‘And I am sure that you will fulfil that role to the best of your abilities,’ she forced herself to say. ‘But I am grieved to hear the news all the same. I do congratulate your sister on her new position though.’ She turned to Tauriel, who had followed the exchange with interest. ‘If you are only half as capable as your brother, I am sure Mirkwood will be well served indeed.’ Even if she didn’t know how much of her brother’s willingness she had to help dwarves.

She inwardly snorted. Twists and turns everywhere. The second movie had not been out yet when she had been spirited away from her own world, but she had heard that Peter Jackson planned on adding a female elf by the name of Tauriel to the mix. And here she was, apparently Elvaethor’s sister. Could things be any more ironic? And now that she was looking more closely, she could see the resemblance between them. They both shared the same red hair and their nose and mouth were remarkably alike as well.

‘I thank you, Queen Catherine,’ the elf said. ‘My brother thinks very highly of you.’

‘Even if you are not sure if he is right to do so,’ Kate retorted before remembering that this was exactly the sort of outburst she should not have today of all days. She was in enough trouble as it was.

Fortunately Lady Tauriel took it rather well; it seemed she at least had some of Elvaethor’s light-heartedness. ‘Perhaps you will prove him right today,’ she said.

‘I intend to,’ she replied. She would need all the allies she could get.

Elvaethor led her further along the line. She had seen Gandalf when she entered, still smiling serenely as he leaned on his staff. ‘Gandalf,’ she acknowledged. ‘It is good to see you again.’ That was what she hoped at least. ‘And to see you in good health as well.’

‘You have come far since last we met,’ the wizard commented. He gave her a once over, eyes lingering on some of her jewellery and the dress she was wearing. It was impossible to say what he thought about it, but Gandalf had always been hard to read. Kate knew for sure that he had not brought her here to become Thorin’s wife, but it was uncertain whether he approved or disapproved of the course her life had taken. She only hoped that he would not blow her cover, because then all hell would break loose.

‘It seems I have,’ she agreed.

Her gaze moved to the elf standing half behind Gandalf. She knew who that was and she also knew that elf had no business being here, not according to the book. _It’s not the gospel_ , she reminded herself. Things could change, but in this case she had a feeling that they were being deliberately changed by the wizard who still seemed to be perfectly comfortable in the present company.

‘May I introduce you to Lady Galadriel of Lórien?’ Elvaethor asked politely.

Kate felt rather small and insignificant in comparison to the elf opposite her. Young, too, given the high age of Lady Galadriel, and ignorant of the world, even more than usual, that was. It was difficult to describe, but she had presence, strong presence.

‘My lady,’ she acknowledged, determined not to look away.

 _Catherine Andrews_. The voice was inside her head, which was a strange sensation altogether, and most definitely not a very pleasant one. It made her feel like she had no privacy at all, like the elf lady could see her every thought. And she had a lot to hide, which made the experience terrifying as well. It made her skin crawl, almost the same way Smaug had done.

But she’d be damned if she showed her unease in front of Thranduil and his merry men. _I’d prefer it if you kept out of my head, Lady Galadriel_ , she thought back, hoping that was the way this whole means of communication – if it could be called that – worked. _Nevertheless, it is an honour to meet you_. Which was the truth, she supposed. At least her presence might keep things civil here.

Galadriel smiled knowingly. _Mithrandir set more in motion than he knew when he brought you to Middle Earth._

Kate was tempted to roll her eyes at that. It was the kind of meaningless chatter that no one had any use for. ‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ she said, hoping that would make it clear to all those present that, as far as she was concerned, this introduction was at an end. And time was ticking. She had negotiations to see to. No one had said anything about shaking hands and making nice with elves.

She had the unpleasant feeling that Galadriel had caught that thought and quickly moved on to the delegation of Esgaroth. Lord Erland showed her all the respect he would show his dog, if that. There was something sparking in his eyes. If she’d been a different kind of woman, she would have called it evil. As it was, it made her just very angry. It would feel good to punch that arrogant nose and be done with it. It certainly didn’t help that she had to crane her neck to look up at him; it felt too much like giving him the advantage and the Master, damn him, knew it very well if that grin was anything to go by. She didn’t have to expect any leniency or kindness from him, that was for sure. His advisors were not much more polite and Kate passed them by as soon as she could without being seen as rude.

It was almost a relief to see Bard at the end of the row. He was no great fan of dwarves, but he was a reasonable man and fair and honourable to a fault. Kate reckoned she had sensed a very strong sense of right and wrong, a yearning for justice even if it wasn’t in his own interests. That was a rare kind of man, the kind she could not afford to alienate, especially not since he was the direct descendant of Girion of Dale and he might very well be king when Dale was rebuilt. He was the kind of neighbour they would want to have, she imagined.

‘Lord Bard, it is good to see you again,’ she greeted, genuinely meaning it.

‘It seems that I was wrong to doubt you,’ Bard replied. ‘Please accept my apologies and my congratulations on defeating the dragon.’

‘Gladly,’ Kate told him. ‘And I shall convey them to my husband once our business here is concluded.’ This at least was going better than she had dared to hope. Well, she was glad of it; something had to go the way she wanted by now. And she would need all the luck she could get if she wanted to make it through this session with her sanity intact and the threat to Erebor gone.

Elvaethor guided her to a seat and helped her in it, truly being the gentleman. But then, he had always been like that. It was reassuring that he had not changed and had apparently not changed. And she was already separating the delegations into groups: foes, possible allies and allies. The last two groups were far too small to her liking.

And Lord Erland wasted no time in proving exactly how hostile he could be. ‘We had expected to be speaking to the King under the Mountain, Queen Catherine,’ he said. His tone of voice was bordering on rude. ‘May I ask why is not here?’

Kate gave him a dismissive stare. ‘You may ask, and I may say that it is none of your business. We do not answer to you for our actions. You may know that I am here in Thorin’s name and that I speak with his voice. That ought to suffice.’

Lord Erland would have continued his foray into unparalleled rudeness, had the prince of Mirkwood not interrupted and saved her from him and quite possibly from herself as well. ‘May we offer you some wine, Lady Catherine?’ Legolas asked, impeccably polite.

Kate smiled and shook her head. ‘Alas, my kind is much more affected by wine than yours is, Prince Legolas,’ she replied, hoping to God she had not just offended him by refusing what he so kindly offered. ‘And I’d like to have a clear head for these talks.’ This was going to be difficult enough without alcohol in her bloodstream, and she needed her wits about her.

She took a deep breath and mentally braced herself as everyone took their places and prepared to begin. _Let’s get this show on the road._

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _It’s like I’ve been sent into a snake pit. How in heaven’s name am I ever going to survive this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter and the few minor twists I added. Next time: negotiating begins in earnest.  
> Please review? I’d love to know what you think.


	73. Cloak and Dagger

_Negotiations are the bane of my existence. There, that’s a fact and it’s been true all my life. It was most certainly true for my life in my own world. When the group assignments came round, I often gained the reputation of a dictator, who bullied her team members into doing her bidding. In my defence, most of my team members those days had all the motivation and concentration of a goldfish, and so “talking about it” would not get us anywhere._

_During our quest I went on a learning curve and that only out of necessity, and not because I wanted to. Maker knows I hated – and still do – the need for keeping my mouth shut and smiling friendly at people I’d much rather throw in the deepest dungeons, never to see them again, but it was necessary._

_Over time I have become more skilled in the art of making nice with those types and pretending that they are my best friends. It is something that has cost me many years to master, and I am not even sure I ever really, truly mastered it at all. There are times when the mask slips and someone very deserving of the worst of my temper gets a piece of my mind, but my last outburst in public is a few years ago and, let’s be honest, Thranduil deserved everything he got._

_Back then, I was far too new to all of it. I felt like I had been thrown into the deep end of the swimming pool without previous instruction and I was supposed to keep myself afloat somehow. It was rather an exercise in patience that day and it was making my temper running extremely low. There were far too many enemies there and especially Lord Erland and Thranduil made an art out of dropping subtle insults that I had to let pass by; shouting back – my preferred method of reaction – would only have succeeded in making things worse and I was not good enough to make equally subtle remarks in return._

_And so I forced myself to rise above their petty word and mind games, and to keep in mind what I was supposed to be doing there. It didn’t help at all that I was not really taken seriously by the participants. After all, word had gotten round that I was merely the daughter of a farmer who came from a small town on the west side of the Misty Mountains that no one had ever heard of. They thought me ignorant, loud-mouthed – and I cannot very easily blame them for that, since there is an element of truth in it – unintelligent and greedy. It was like being surrounded by enemies, who would just love the excuse to point the finger at me and say that it was all my fault – or Thorin’s, either one – so that they had a “legitimate” excuse to waltz into the Mountain and take what they liked._

_The hostile vibes swirling around the enclosed space were making me ever more angry. I had the feeling I had been plunged headfirst into a world that was all but boiling over with grievances that had been simmering for centuries and that were now being played out. Either that or Thranduil still had not gotten over the loss of his burned forest. He was a key player in all this, I knew, and he was busy stoking the flames of discord. Lord Erland was the main spokesman, because he was the one with the most reason to demand a share of the treasure. But he was so obsessed about it that my instinctive reaction was to not give him any of it if that was the way he clearly thought this needed to go._

_Don’t get me wrong, dear ones, I could not care less about the treasure. It was a matter of principle to me more than anything else. They had no right to any of it and the way they carried on would almost make one believe that they had all the right in the world. And that did not sit well with me at all…_

 

Kate could not say how much time had passed, but it would be safe to say that several hours at least had gone – wasted – since she had first stepped foot in this tent and by the time Lord Erland finally finished explaining why he was entitled to a share of the treasure, she was fighting a headache and the ever growing urge of bashing some faces in or throwing something at them that would do them some considerable and very serious damage, either one. Or both. She didn’t care as long as it was done.

And it turned out that Dwalin and Dori shared the sentiment. The latter had gripped the back of her chair in order to prevent himself from literally jumping at the offenders and teaching them some manners in the same way he had done Galas during the Mirkwood variety of prison break. Kate could have sworn the chair had made creaking sounds of protest every now and then during the worst of the insults. Dwalin wasn’t in a much better state, but he had better self-control. He was standing on the other end behind the chair, glaring at the other people in the room as if they had gravely offended him, which in truth they had. Other than that he could have been carved out of rock for all the moving he did. Only the occasional blinking of the eyes betrayed that he was a living being instead of a very realistic looking statue. She supposed it was all he could do not to use his axe on any of the arrogant heads surrounding them. His race was being insulted almost constantly, but always in such a way that it could mean something else, so she couldn’t protest or call them out on it. It meant exactly what she thought it meant and she clenched her fists under the table. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper, it really wouldn’t.

Lord Erland, Thranduil, Galas, Lainor and one of Lord Erland’s advisors, a too fat man by the name of Ingor, had been the main speakers, delivering blow after blow. They had hinted at madness in Thorin’s family, dwarvish greed and debts that needed paying. Of course there was always something about the rebuilding of Dale. It was strongly suggested that the dwarves may not want that, even though it would be beneficial to them.

‘And why would we not want the friendship of the people of Dale, as it was in the days of yore?’ Kate demanded. Lord Erland had been droning on for nigh on fifteen minutes without pause and this was the first time since the meeting had started that she could get a word in, and only because the Master of Lake-town needed to catch his breath. ‘You merely seem to assume that we have no wish for friendship and are judging us simply on that thought alone, without asking if things are really the way you think them to be.’

Some people, the better people, were looking uneasy. Legolas’s expression could be described as one of shame, possibly for his father’s shameful conduct, and Bard was much the same. It was altogether difficult to say what Galadriel thought. Her conduct had not changed a thing since the meeting had begun; she was alert and taking everything in. Gandalf was equally difficult, but she took the fact that he was no longer smiling as a sign that he didn’t like the way things were going any more than she did.

Elvaethor was interesting. Elves would never have heard of a poker face in their life, but it didn’t change the fact that this was exactly how the former captain of the guard was looking. The present captain of the guard was a whole lot easier to read. From the way brother and sister interacted Kate thought she could tell that Tauriel was the youngest and it showed in how she behaved. She looked with distaste at Lord Erland and a deep frown had been etched in her forehead for the last half an hour, having made a few previous appearances before.

‘I beg your pardon!’ the Master sputtered.

‘Would you say that it is not so?’ Kate questioned, desperately trying to keep control of her tongue and keep playing the part. Soon enough it would be more than a role she played; she might as well start practising now. ‘Thus far I haven’t had a chance to defend myself or to contradict any of the statements you’re making. We are meant to talk _with_ one another. At the moment I think you’ll find that you are the one doing the talking, and it is not for my lack of trying that I have been unable to speak.’ She gave Thranduil a pointed look as well. ‘I have been accused and insulted. No, don’t you try to deny it. You may think I am but a foolish young woman, but I assure you that you do not have the monopoly on reading between the lines. Consider your words duly noted and well-understood.’ It may not be too wise to call them out on their undeniable bad manners, but enough was enough and the limit had been reached. Her patience had been tried and had withstood most of the pressure it had been subjected to, but she needed to show these arrogant twerps that she did understand the game. If she didn’t, they’d walk all over her and she would never stand a chance. And with the fate of Erebor resting mainly on her shoulders, that was something she could not afford.

‘You have a bold tongue, Queen Catherine,’ Thranduil remarked.

‘As bold as your own, I imagine,’ Kate retorted. She had tried to be the gentle and understanding queen, rising above the petty verbal backstabbing, but she had become increasingly frustrated with it. No, she would not lose her dignity by shouting at them like a fishwife, but she couldn’t stand for all the insults either. Soon enough Durin’s Folk would be her people too. She couldn’t let these slights pass. ‘And I have not come here to listen to insult. I gathered we were here to discuss what you are doing here and how we can resolve the situation without any bloodshed, hopefully reaching an outcome that is pleasing to all parties involved. Thus far this council has demonstrated its hatred of my people, but not much else, I am afraid to say.’ And hopefully now they would all start to behave like adults. For heaven’s sake, Thranduil was over three thousand years old, was he not? Wouldn’t it be time for him to grow up?

‘There is a satisfactory outcome,’ Lord Erland chimed in. ‘Why do your people not just hand over what’s owed and we will indeed leave.’

‘That sounds far too close to a threat to me,’ Kate remarked. ‘And do not worry on that account. We have not forgotten the hospitality you’ve shown us when we were in your town, and we _will_ repay you for your kindness.’ Now she finally got to lay her own cards on the table and she was glad for the opportunity. At least this might clear up some of the misunderstandings that had been obstructing the real talk until now. ‘What’s more, we also offer our help in rebuilding Dale, to restore it to its former glory, for we do indeed desire the friendship with its people, as it was in the days before Smaug laid waste to it.’ She looked at Bard now. After all, he was Girion’s descendant and she had no doubt that he would be the one to lead his people back to build a new life where they belonged. ‘This help will partly be financial. We will also offer the help of our own kin once they have come home. They are craftsmen and will be of great use in the process, as I am sure you will agree once you’ve seen their work.’

Now that she could speak, she felt more sure of herself than when she had felt when she was being insulted at every turn, unable to do anything about it. Kate supposed that Dwalin’s first rule of battle applied to negotiations as well. When she had first started to take instruction from him, he had told her that she should never play to the enemy’s rules. She should set them herself and have them dancing to her tune, because if it was the other way around, they controlled the fight and she’d be as good as lost already. She controlled the fight now, she felt.

And much of that was down to an awful lot of preparation. Thorin had feared unwanted company from the moment the dragon had been defeated and so many a night after work they’d sat down to discuss what to do should men and elves suddenly showed up at the gates, demanding payment. So far his mind had seemed his own – Kate strongly suspected that his own contribution in defeating the dragon had helped a great deal with that – and he had no objections against giving gold where it was due. Unfortunately the Master of Lake-town deserved compensation for his help, even if that help had not been willingly given. It was a difficult matter, but in the end they had both agreed that it needed to be done. And at least it would get that awful man off their backs, which had to be worth something.

Thorin had been adamant about one thing though: no gold should go to the elves. He had made that point very clear and Kate couldn’t find it in herself to disagree with him, not after the whole Mirkwood fiasco. But it was going to cause trouble. Of that she was sure.

The truth of that assessment was proven soon enough when Galas raised his voice. ‘What would you do for my people?’ he demanded. He’d been extremely vocal already and Kate found she had trouble listening to him without exploding instantly. But then, she reasoned, it would be difficult to have patience with someone who would have her tortured if only he had been given the time and opportunity.

Kate returned the glare he directed at her person with interest. ‘What of your people?’ she questioned. ‘As I recall it, you have not done anything for me and mine that would warrant payment of any kind. Your people owed mine their allegiance and yet they have failed, twice, to fulfil their obligations. If I am to be honest, I am at a loss as to why you are here in the first place.’

‘As I recall,’ Galas began, parroting her words back at her. ‘As _I_ recall, it was your company that laid waste to much of our realm, for which we have been left with no recompense.’

If he was going to be annoying, then so could she be. ‘Maybe I have missed some part of elven logic here, but perhaps you would be as kind as to explain how gold is going to be of use in re-growing trees, because I am afraid it does quite escape _my_ sense of logic.’

‘You do not deny then that it were your people that were responsible for the terrible fire that laid low so many of the ancient trees?’ Lainor was quick to contribute to the accusation.

‘Of course I deny it,’ Kate said irritably. Technically, it was not even a lie. After all, it had been her plan and Bilbo had carried it out. Neither of them were dwarves. ‘But I have no wish to quarrel about this matter again. We have done so in the past and you know our answer to your rather unfounded accusations. I simply do not feel the need to emphasise something you should have known by now.’

‘You do not deny being involved in the fire though,’ Galas pressed.

‘We were involved, because the orcs attacked my company and one of our number died in that vicious attack,’ Kate responded. She remembered Bifur all too well and she missed him too, even though she had never been close to him while he was still alive. But that was the worst part of someone dying before their time: missed chances and things that would never be. ‘We only survived because we found shelter and I am grateful for that. But I do not think this has any bearing on our meeting here today.’

‘It does,’ Legolas said. He had been silent since he offered her the wine and he had seemed genuinely embarrassed when his father had behaved so poorly, but that didn’t make him a friend. ‘Because I do not believe you. It is well known that dwarves have a talent for fire, Queen Catherine. And you bear us no love. Maybe you wished to see our home burn as yours burned in the dragon’s fire, maybe it was only a way to fight your attackers. Either way, why should you care what happens to our forest, that after all is our home?’

As much honesty as she could get away with would be the best approach. That way the lies would be more difficult to spot. That had been her father’s preferred strategy anyway and he seemed to have gotten away with it a lot. _Must be the first time I’m taking him as a good example in more than a decade._ ‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘I do not care for Mirkwood, as I am sure you do not care for my home. It doesn’t mean that I’d deliberately set fire to it, only to spite you. How would that help my cause? As you’ll agree, it only seems to hurt it.’

She really should have known this would come back to haunt her. At the time it had seemed like the best way to handle the situation, but now she was not so sure anymore. The consequences did not really seem worth it, until she remembered that a fair number of orcs had burned to death, orcs that would otherwise have been in the ideal position to finish off the company. It had been desperate times and desperate times called for desperate measures. If she hadn’t thought of that solution, then all of them might be dead and none of them would have lived to slay the dragon. One way or another, that encounter was bound to be brought up again and again.

‘It does,’ Legolas agreed. ‘But who’s to say you were thinking about consequences at the time?’

Was that elf a mind reader or something? ‘We weren’t,’ Kate agreed, feeling her hands go sweaty. Fortunately she held them under the table, where no one could see it. ‘We were surviving, fighting for our lives. Listen, Prince Legolas, I know you do not believe a single word that comes from my mouth, either because you have a grudge against my people and choose not to believe it because that is more convenient to you or because you want someone who’s still alive to blame for the inferno. I do not believe we have come here to squabble over this particular matter. I have come here to discuss the removal of your troops from this place and the terms we are prepared to offer in return.’ It still felt too much like blackmail to Kate though. ‘I’d like to remind you all that my company is responsible for killing the dragon Smaug with no loss of life, ridding this area of the greatest threat it has ever seen. I’d rather like to think we ought to be thanked for the risk we took, yet no one, except Lord Bard, has even mentioned this achievement.’ The mild headache was steadily increasing until it was a dull throbbing in the back of her head. And it would soon become worse, she knew. Maybe it was time to bring this session to an end. ‘You have heard what we are prepared to offer in return for your withdrawal and now I will leave you to contemplate it. I suggest we all sleep a night on it and then reconvene in the morning.’ _I need a break before I explode._

Lord Erland seemed to be ready to do an explosion of his own. He got to his feet, directing his most stern glare at her, and he had already opened his mouth to voice his protest, when – finally – Gandalf came to the rescue. ‘I believe that is a very wise decision,’ he said. ‘Three hours after dawn would surely be suitable to everyone, I should think.’

It was a sign of how respected the old wizard was that no one as much as thought about protesting. A hesitant feeling of triumph nestled in Kate’s heart. They weren’t there yet. In a manner of speaking, the war had only just begun. But she felt that she had at least won a battle, and that had to be worth something. There would be another battle tomorrow, but this was at least a minor victory and that she was proud of.

‘That would be very reasonable,’ she agreed, following Erland’s example by standing as well. ‘My lords, ladies, I bid you all a good night.’

The air outside the tent was cold and the wind was strong, but Kate felt only relief washing over her. At least for now business was concluded and it was as if the weight of the world, that had been pressing her down since she heard she’d be the one to go and negotiate, was temporarily lifted from her shoulders. It would be back soon enough and so she relished the feeling while it lasted.

‘I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody glad to be out of there,’ she said to no one in particular, just glad that she could speak her mind without thinking about every word she said first.

‘It isn’t right,’ Dwalin grumbled. ‘Letting them get away with all the vile things they said.’

‘Agreed,’ Kate nodded. ‘I’d have throttled most of them with my bare hands if I could, believe me. There were a few decent characters in there, mind, but others…’ No need to name names; they knew who she meant.

‘I won’t let them get away with it next time,’ Dori vowed. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had kept calm for as long as he had; the many barely veiled insults about Kate’s background had grated on his every nerve, as they had on hers. ‘The things they said…’

There was no need for political correctness here and now, as in so far there had been any to begin with, she thought wryly. ‘Were rude,’ she agreed. ‘Humiliating and infuriating. Bloody Thranduil. You’d say that it’d kill him to keep a civil tongue in his mouth. And he’s surprised that we’re not champing at the bit to shower him in gold. Makes one wonder about his intelligence.’

‘You are right, Queen Catherine.’ The voice behind her made her stop and turn on her heels to see who the hell had spoken.

She was surprised to find that it was the son of the king they had just been discussing. ‘Prince Legolas,’ she acknowledged. It was a sign of just how frayed Dori’s nerves were that he reacted by pointing a weapon at the elf, forcing him to dance out of its reach. ‘I take it there is a reason you sneaked up on me?’

The elf nodded. ‘There is.’ He kept a wary eye on Dori, as he should. ‘I do not agree with any of the things you have said in council today,’ he began. ‘No, I must correct that, I do agree with one thing. You have rid this area of a dragon and we have been remiss in thanking you for that great deed. We were right to have our doubts, but you proved us wrong.’

Typical elf strategy: admit they were wrong, but in the same breath say that they were not wrong to think as they did. Bloody elves.

‘It was a dangerous endeavour, I agree,’ she said. ‘But it paid off. And it was a necessary thing to be done. Was it wrong of us to rid the area of one of the greatest evils that has ever plagued it?’ Common sense be damned, he was going to admit that he had been wrong, full stop. This may have something to do with pride in their accomplishments and an ever-growing impatience with elvish manners, but it was also true.

Of course, the farthest his acknowledgement went was a curt nod of the head. One would say that it would kill them to admit to being wrong, Mahal forbid. ‘I did not come here to quarrel with you, my lady.’ Now he was all manners and courtesy. In fact, he had been that all the time. It was his father that had been rude. Legolas may not agree with her and he certainly had not hesitated to say so, even going as far as to question her words – in which he was unfortunately completely justified, even if there was no reason to tell him that – but he had never been rude.

‘Then I cannot help but wonder why you are here,’ Kate said.

‘To offer my apologies.’ Elves were hard to read and with the light of day fading rapidly, it was even more difficult to make out, but she could have sworn that for a moment there he seemed ashamed. ‘My father said things to you that are inexcusable, things that should not be said. I ask your forgiveness.’

‘It’s not you who’s done anything wrong,’ Kate pointed out. ‘You have been perfectly civil during the talks. We do indeed not agree about a great many things, but the fault was not yours. Nevertheless I appreciate your coming here to tell me this in person. It was the honourable thing to do.’ Even if it made no difference in the long run. ‘I bid you a good night, Prince Legolas.’

She was already on her way, when his voice called out to her once again. ‘Elvaethor’s friendship is a precious thing, Queen Catherine. You are lucky to have it.’

Kate swivelled around to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he was already gone.

 

***

 

Waiting was a torment. Dís had once told him that it was a woman’s lot in life to wait – for husbands to come home from war, for children to be born – but Thorin didn’t think it was a woman’s bane only. For now he found himself on the battlements, staring out over the camp his enemies had set up before his Mountain and the tent that was standing between the camp and the main gate. Kate was in there, bargaining. It was taking long too. She had gone in around noon, escorted in by an elf with flaming red hair that could be none other than the insect. He may feel reassured about that, since he sincerely doubted he would be in any way unkind to Kate; for whatever reason Elvaethor liked her and Thorin was not at all sure that the feeling wasn’t mutual. At the very least he could be assured that the elf wouldn’t harm her.

But there were more ways to harm a person than physical harm and Thranduil would know most of them. And right now the elves and their allies had an advantage. He knew enough of them to know that they would push that to get the best deal. But the elves wouldn’t get a deal. Balin may have a point about it being easier to give them what they wanted and be done with it, but that would not be the right thing to do. This was his people’s wealth and he had no right to take it from them to give it to strangers who didn’t have a single right to it. In the end, it was all as simple as that.

To that end he had called for Dáin’s help. Another few ravens had been dispatched to the Ered Luin to bring the good news, but at the same time warn them about the present threat. They would never be able to make it to offer them help in time, but they had a right to know what was happening. He knew his sister. Dís was not in the business of fussing any more than he was, but she would have worried, rightly so. It were her sons he had dragged with him on the quest and even though he had promised to take good care of them, both had known that it was an empty promise. She had a right to know that the beast that had taken their home was no more and that it was her youngest who had accomplished it. She had every right to be proud of him.

He had made no mention of Kate. Such a message was not delivered by raven. He would not be able to explain it well. It would have to wait until they met in person. For several minutes he managed to distract himself from the anxiety and frustration that stemmed from not being able to be at the negotiations himself. Picturing Dís’s reaction to the advisor might prove very interesting, although she was not the one to blame him for an unconventional marriage, having made one herself. Her husband had been a lowly miner, but he had made her happy and Thorin would not have denied her that, not when loss was so present in their lives. That didn’t mean Dís would not declare that he had lost his mind. And she’d say so in no uncertain terms too. But she might like Kate once she had gotten over the shock. They were remarkably alike in their ways sometimes.

‘You should come inside, Thorin.’ To his surprise it was not Balin that spoke to him, but rather Bombur. The King under the Mountain had known him for a long time, and Bombur had never been known as a talker. ‘The lass will be fine.’

In one thing Bombur had more experience than Thorin himself had, though: relations. He was the relationship novice and they knew it. It didn’t mean he liked to have his nose rubbed in the fact. ‘You don’t know that. Not for certain.’ He didn’t even turn back as he answered, gaze fixed on the tent below. The light was fading now and still no one had entered or left the tent since Kate had entered. And he was too far off to hear any of the voices belonging to the people inside. He was cut off from all information and he found he didn’t like it at all. ‘Go inside, Bombur. I’ll keep watch.’

For a moment he was afraid the red-haired dwarf would refuse, but he had always been a bit timid and he was not the kind of person to go against Thorin. Balin and Dwalin might do that, Dori too when he had worked himself up in a temper, but the latter two weren’t here and Balin was leaving him alone for whatever reason, probably because he didn’t think Thorin was making sense at the moment. Maybe he wasn’t, but he didn’t care.

He knew they disagreed. Balin was uncomfortable with his chosen course of action. If he would have his way, they would hand over a share of the treasure to the elves and men and be done with it. There was some appeal in that, if he cared to take the easy way out. Balin made a valid point when he said that it might be better in the long run, because they might have the friendship of the elves then. The only thing was that he didn’t want the friendship of the elves. Thranduil’s betrayal still was sufficient to make his blood boil. He had not only denied them help, he had even gone as far as to lock them up and try to force him into making an oath never to return to the Mountain. Dwarves had long memories, and he would not forget this in a hurry. Nor would he want to. To give them gold now would be wrong.

Kate seemed to share that opinion. She too had developed what she herself called and acute allergy to elvish backstabbing in general and Thranduil nastiness in particular. It put Thorin’s mind somewhat at ease, because surely her attitude would mean that he was not falling prey to the madness he feared. It was only the urge to protect his kingdom that had him acting as he did.

He had felt no sign of madness or a craving for gold thus far. It seemed that it indeed helped to defeat the dragon. No one seemed to suffer from greed – with the noticeably exception of Nori, but he didn’t seem to suffer from _increased_ greed, and that was the best they could hope for in his case – and Thorin believed that was because all of them had played a part in distracting the dragon with their shouting. In their own way, everyone had contributed. It made him feel proud to be the leader of this company.

His attention was drawn towards the tent when it opened and Kate strode out, Dori and Dwalin in her wake. Even from this distance it was easy to see that she was angry; it was clear from the way she was walking that she was distinctly ruffled and the cause for that was easy to guess at. Dwalin and Dori seemed to be of the same mind. The latter was stomping more than walking, the kind of thing he did when someone had wronged him and he was on the warpath to set the record straight by shouting at the offender. Dwalin was subtler, but Thorin had known him long enough to recognise the signs of impending anger attack.

He could not deny his own relief in seeing all of them alive though. Not that he really thought that Thranduil would violate the rules of parley by taking his people hostage, but then, he clearly didn’t know everything there was to know about the elven king’s crimes. Would someone who threw his supposed allies either in a dungeon or left them to fend for themselves when the times were hard and he could safely turn his back on them without fear of reprisal.

The relief was short-lived though when he saw that an elf came running after them. Thorin didn’t see a weapon, but he didn’t like it all the same. He’d had too much experience with elvish nastiness. And his nerves weren’t helped by the realisation that it was Thranduil’s son who approached. Thorin didn’t know what to make of Prince Legolas. He had given off some signs of sympathy when they were all dragged before the elven king’s throne, but that said nothing. And considering who his father was, Thorin was not in a hurry to put his faith in him.

Fortunately Dori and Dwalin were more alert than Kate. Both turned around and the elf was forced to dance out of reach of Dori’s convincing attempts to slice open his belly. Thorin cursed the fact that he could not hear what was being said. It was frustrating, but at least there was no violence and he would not deny his relief when the elf went back to his own camp again and the three of his company returned to the main gate.

That was his cue to get moving. The anxiety about the fate of his kingdom and his company had been weighing on his mind all day, made heavier by not knowing what was going on. At some point he had even started to wonder whether it was not worth the risk of being seen as weak if that meant he could be at the negotiations himself. It was his kingdom they were discussing, his people that were at risk. He ought to be there.

Eventually he had lost count of how many times he had already cursed his leg and the problems he had with it, but he added a dozen more times to the list when he forced himself to descend the stairs quicker than his body was prepared to take. It was a nuisance, and a dangerous nuisance too. If it did come to battle, he knew he could not stay behind. It was his duty as King under the Mountain to lead his men in an attack, no matter how few men he may have at his disposal. To sit back and do nothing was unthinkable.

He arrived at the gate just as Dori was squeezing his way in. Kate and Dwalin had already entered, both of them looking distinctly disgruntled. But there was no immediate alarm and that, for now, put his nerves at ease a little. If there had been an immediate danger, he would have heard of it before anything else.

Kate had heard the clicking of his cane on the stone and turned around. ‘Thorin,’ she acknowledged, but there was a wealth of meaning in just that one word: relief, contentment and weariness. The last was dominant though and she looked it. The weight of the dress, although heavy, didn’t warrant the kind of slumping shoulders she was sporting now.

Showing affection had never been one of his strong points and he doubted that it ever would be. If no one else had been there, he might have had trouble wrapping her in an embrace, never mind with this many people around. And he knew that Kate would never ask for company or assistance any more than she would ask for the dragon to be revived. It was one of the reasons why it had taken them so long to admit what was apparently clear to everyone but them. And even then it had taken Balin’s interference to open their eyes. Neither of them was good at showing affection.

But it would seem that his advisor was in need of it and so he told himself that he had faced a dragon. This was no more dangerous, unless of course Dori thought it inappropriate. He marched over to her and drew her into a brusque, but well-meant embrace. It was a sign of how exhausted the advisor was that she didn’t even protest – not even for form’s sake – and just leaned into the embrace. Thorin could feel the tension in the muscles of her shoulders.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered when he eventually let go. ‘I needed that.’

He didn’t acknowledge that. ‘What happened?’

Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘Still not one for beating around the bush, are you?’ she remarked sarcastically.

‘The elf?’ he urged. ‘Legolas. What did he want?’

‘Apologise, if you’ll believe it,’ Kate said. ‘For his father’s lack of manners. And he thanked us for the trouble we went through to kill the dragon, although he told me in the same breath that they were right to have their doubts. Like you said, yes and no in the same sentence. No wonder no one wants elvish counsel except the elves themselves; no normal folk can keep up with them.’

‘Perhaps we can continue this conversation in a place with a hearth,’ Dori interrupted. ‘My sister is shivering, if you haven’t noticed.’

The barely concealed accusation that Thorin didn’t care about Kate’s well-being set his very teeth on edge and he had to work hard not to snap at the dwarf. He meant well, Kate had once said, but his particular way of caring could be very suffocating. It was hardly a miracle Nori rebelled so much, she’d remarked, in his place she would have done the same. Anything to get away from that fussing. ‘He’d mollycoddle us all to death if only we’d let him.’ That was what she’d said. And she was right too.

‘I did,’ he said icily. ‘But your sister is old enough to know her own mind. If she needs the warmth of the fire, she will say so herself. She does not appreciate fuss, as you well know.’

Kate tried to not smirk. She also failed.

‘I think I need to talk to you in private, if you don’t mind?’ she asked.

Thorin nodded, stifling a smirk of his own when he realised that Kate was trying to get rid of her brother. ‘Walk with me.’

‘You need to get warmed up!’ Dori protested.

‘Walking will do that,’ she told him. ‘Will you please stop chaperoning me? Thorin is not Thranduil, in case it had escaped your notice.’

Dori muttered something about that not being the case, but enough other things being the matter. Kate’s blush clarified what other matters were plaguing his mind and he sent an icy stare his way. ‘No harm will come to her,’ he snapped.

‘Now that we have established that, maybe we can walk?’ Kate cut in. ‘Before I freeze to death?’ she added.

That seemed to do the trick. Dori added one final glower to the collection and was then dragged away by Dwalin. Thorin gave him an appreciating nod and Dwalin inclined his head with a knowing smile. They had known one another long enough to know what the other needed, often before they knew it themselves.

Kate picked up her skirts and marched off. Thorin followed and quickly took the lead. Pain shot up his leg when he forced it on too quickly again. Kate looked back and slowed down. ‘Sorry, just having an urgent wish to get away from him,’ she admitted. ‘He’s been plotting bloody murder all afternoon and I am not anxious to get on his bad side today. When I’m going back tomorrow, he can’t come again, Thorin. He’ll throttle the bloody lot of them before we’re five minutes in.’ She glowered at the walls. ‘Not that they don’t deserve it, mind.’

‘What happened?’ Thorin demanded. The fact that he had been stuck in the Mountain had made his temper unusually short.

‘Thranduil, Erland and their respective retinues made it perfectly clear I understood their insults. That took up most of the afternoon.’ She moaned. ‘Bloody greedy bastards, most of them. Bard seems reasonable, though.’

‘Elvaethor was there, I gathered?’

Kate grimaced. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. Apparently Thranduil thinks he’s being too nice to us, so he’s no longer captain of the guard. He claimed to be an advisor, but it looks as if he is more of a glorified guard than anything else. His post belongs to his sister now, some red-haired woman called Tauriel.’ She put a hand through her hair, in the process undoing one of the braids Dori had spent so much time putting in. Thorin had a distinct suspicion that it was not the first time she had done it; dwarvish braids did not fall out so easily. ‘And the lady of Lórien was there as well, even though she didn’t say a word throughout the council. Gandalf was back as well. Believe it or not, he even agreed with me. That has to be a first.’

That surprised Thorin. ‘He agreed?’

‘About the need to think about my proposition. Let it suffice to say that Thranduil and his merry men were not amused, not merry in the slightest. They’re a tad bit upset about the woods. You’d think it’s a crime punishable by death to light a bit of fire.’

Her report, as incoherent as usual when she was on edge, ended in an angry mutter. She stumbled and Thorin instinctively reached out to take her hand. ‘Are you tired?’

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Back to the stupid questions are you, eh?’ When he didn’t deem that worthy of a reply, she nodded. ‘Didn’t sleep much last night. I’ll be fine tomorrow.’ She looked around her. ‘Where are we?’

‘Close to where I used to live.’ It was a bit of a surprise for him as well; his feet had guided him here almost of their own volition.

Kate gave a tentative smile. ‘Home. You really are home now, aren’t you?’

He looked back at her. ‘So are you,’ he pointed out. She had told him she would stay and he didn’t doubt her words; she was someone who kept it. ‘This will be your home, if the elves are inclined to let us keep it.’ Anger turned his voice bitter.

‘We were the reasonable ones,’ Kate said. ‘And we may still stand a chance.’ Her fingers traced the carvings in the walls. This area was badly damaged, but Thorin still saw what it used to be on his mind’s eye, without the debris and cracks in the walls. ‘It still feels so surreal, all of this. Sometimes part of me is convinced that it’s all a dream, that I’m about to wake up and it will all be some strange dream I can’t comprehend, brought on by reading the book too much.’

‘But you will stay?’ he insisted.

She gave him an eye roll. ‘I told you I would. I’m not exactly going anywhere.’

‘But you will,’ he reminded her.

Kate nodded. ‘That’s true. And something tells me you do not like it one bit. But I need to go back. So far nothing suggests that the time flow in this world is any different from how it is in mine. God, they’ll be worried out of their minds. If they even still believe I’m alive.’ She shook her head. ‘Never mind me. Let’s you and I focus on sending the elves where they came from.’

This he remembered too, the muttering and the incoherent talking when she was upset about something. He had the unpleasant feeling the elves had not as much to do with it as she made out. This had started when she began talking of the home she had known and the family she had left behind. Was she having second thoughts? Was she doubting the wisdom of her decision? Could she truly do that, even after all they had been through?

Now it was him who forced his face into a reassuring smile. ‘We will see it done,’ he promised her, thinking of Dáin and hoping that he would come, as the book claimed he would do. It was Balin’s line, but he found he needed to believe in it or else he’d lose his mind. They were still locked in for all intents and purposes. He needed to believe that it was not going to end in blood and the loss of his kingdom.

Kate smiled, weariness written all over her face. ‘We will,’ she agreed. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

She believed she had his confidence and so did he. Yet why didn’t he tell her about Dáin?

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _What is she not telling me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Kate finds out about Dáin. Please review?


	74. Falling Apart

_All my life, I have loved stories. I love the idea of temporarily losing myself in a character’s troubles, even if only to get away from my own for a while. While I was a child I spent hours reading, living adventures, visiting other worlds and criticising characters for their sometimes incredible stupidity. It was a nice way to block out the world when that world was less than perfect. I trained myself in blocking it out so effectively that I forgot about the shouting that was going on downstairs._

_But back to my criticism of characters. One thing that always bothered me about stories was that characters often failed to communicate and that as a result things often fell completely apart. I always swore to myself that I would never be that stupid, because surely that kind of thing didn’t happen in real life? In real life, people were cleverer than that, I assumed. I would never be as foolish as to keep so many secrets that I would drive people away from me, least of all the person I loved most._

_More fool me. I learned that day that I could be that stupid. It was not purely a story thing. It was very much something I did as well. Stupid or not, I did it and I justified it to myself. There was no need bothering Thorin about it, I told myself. He had too much on his plate already. His leg was troubling him and my concerns about home would only serve to make him think that I was having doubts about him and me, which I hadn’t._

_I couldn’t really say what was the matter with me though. I only knew that it had been triggered by Thranduil’s endless nagging. He had been suggesting that Thorin marrying me was unheard of, that I didn’t belong with dwarves and that the dwarves themselves would soon come to see that for themselves. Therefore, he claimed he had a right to see the King under the Mountain himself._

_For me it felt like he was questioning my right to be there and his words had gotten under my skin, even though I didn’t tell him that. And I didn’t tell Thorin either. After all, he had assured me that I did belong and he had asked me to stay. Nevertheless it didn’t change what I was feeling and Thranduil’s menacing talk meant that I was now questioning where I belonged. After the fiasco the negotiations had turned out to be, I was wondering how well I would do it as a ruler. I had clearly been incapable of countering any of the foul insults he paid me and it remained to be seen how tempting my offer sounded to the assembled allies._

_And consequently my worries about my family at home – because that was how I still thought about it, even if I didn’t consciously made the decision to do so – resurfaced. They had been driven from my mind for a while, because I had more urgent business to concern myself with for a good long while. But the question remained and having been stuck under the Mountain for a while had reminded me of how much I loved the sunlight. That I was weary and discouraged did only help the melancholy along._

_All these things combined to bring about a homesickness that made me almost want to weep. We were in a mess and I was tired, so tired of fighting. I really only wanted to be home. No, that’s not entirely right. I wanted this whole mess to end and I wanted some rest, so that I could sort out my own thoughts. At that time it is far too obvious I could not think straight and so I foolishly made the wrong decision. And believe me, dears, it is not something I am proud of. In fact, I didn’t even think of what I decided as a big deal at all, but maybe only because I could never have foreseen some of the consequences._

_Little did I know that I was not the only one keeping secrets…_

Thorin was woken by the early morning light. The company had sought their refuge in the old guards’ quarters, because they were equipped with hearths, the area was largely untouched by the dragon and it was spacious enough that it could harbour all of them. No one really wanted to be alone. An elf had found his way into Erebor once before and they should face the threat together should another come in as well.

And it had something altogether unnerving, being alone in the Mountain. In its current state it didn’t look much better than the tunnels of Goblin-town, a comparison that made Thorin inwardly cringe. Erebor had been so much more than that, had always been more beautiful, more sophisticated. And there had been people everywhere. It had never been this silent. There had always been some noise, and the knowledge that even when there was silence, there was always someone close by. That was not the case now. Erebor was deserted apart from his company.

And it was filled with ghosts. Of course, those were a mannish superstition, not something Thorin wanted to waste his own time with, but they were there all the same. He had experienced it as he walked around the ancient halls of his people, the ones the dragon laid waste to and that were filled with debris and bones, shattered all over the marred floors. He remembered how it used to be and suddenly there would be something that triggered a memory, so powerful that it was almost real, but just out of his reach. When he had walked in the throne room, for a moment there he could almost see his grandfather on the throne, regal and in the full possession of his wits. A glance around the guards’ quarters had brought about a vision of Frár, sitting on a chair, talking with the other guards. And his trip to the quarters where he used to live had not been a good idea either and he had been glad when Kate had visibly shivered and he had a good excuse to leave and return to the others. The memories of a time before suffering had been his constant companion were too strong, too painful. Too many people he had known were no more. His parents, his grandfather, Frerin; all of their lives cut short before their time.

This was a better place to be. It carried its own memories and they were not necessarily any less painful, but with others around they were more or less kept at bay. He supposed he could be grateful for small mercies and this surely was one.

Kate was sleeping in his arms, still deep in slumber. He had feared that now that she got thinking about her family, she would want to leave, would change her mind about staying, but when it was time to go to sleep, she had taken her usual place next to him, crawling under his blanket instead of under her own. ‘Love you,’ she had muttered, only just before sleep had claimed her.

He would have denied it when called on it, but he felt relieved in a way. Apparently they were not in any form of crisis, given the fact that Kate’s preferred approach to crises concerning him was to stay away from him, as far as she possibly could. That she was now sleeping with her head on his arm and curled up against him like a curly little kitten told him that he quite possibly didn’t need to worry on that account.

Maker knew he’d have enough to worry about otherwise. The book had warned him that the Arkenstone would be a problem, but as it was, that was the very least of his worries. He was more concerned about Thranduil and Lord Erland, both of whom seemed to have made it their own personal duty to make his life a misery. Kate had sounded weary yesterday, but she had also seemed confident eventually. The men seemed receptive to what she had to say, especially Bard. It was a matter of wait and see what their decision would turn out to be, but at least they may have some reason to hope that not all was lost yet, because Thorin dreaded to think what would happen if the Mountain was attacked before Dáin had the chance to get here.

If Dáin would come at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he backed out and left his kin to fend for themselves. He had done that after Azanulbizar, when he withdrew his troops, saying that storming Khazad-Dûm would be suicide without having even tried, leaving his people in exile still. And he had done it again when Thorin came and asked for his help in the quest to reclaim Erebor. Suicide, he’d said. Thorin had not resorted to begging, but he had come close. He could only pray to Mahal that his cousin would not desert him again. This situation was precarious and there was too much that could still go wrong.

‘Unleash that scowl on Thranduil and with any luck he might just drop dead of it,’ an amused voice commented. When he looked at the owner of that voice he found that she was looking up at him, stretching a bit now that she had woken. ‘Would save me the bother of going back and sitting through another session with him. Bloody elf.’

Thorin looked at her. Everything truly did seem back to normal, but he had not yet forgotten the wistfulness with which she had spoken of home. There was the fact that she still referred to it as home, even if she might do so without thinking, because it had always been that way for her. And even he would have to admit that the Mountain did not yet look like a place one would call home very easily, if one could do that at all. A lot of work would need doing before it would be inhabitable. But she had not really sounded enthusiastic either when he told her Erebor would be her home as well as his. In fact, he might even go as far as to say that he had seen a flash of alarm on her face. He was unlikely to forget that anytime soon.

‘You are brooding,’ Kate observed. She wasn’t even phrasing it as a question. ‘Care to enlighten me what about?’

‘Home,’ he answered truthfully, even if it didn’t probably answer all her questions and neither did it reveal what his ponderings were truly about.

But if he had learned to read her face, she had done the same. ‘This is about yesterday.’ That too was the stating of a fact rather than a query. ‘About me worrying about my family.’

Dwarves were not the race to hold with deceit and so he nodded. ‘Aye.’

‘You’re afraid I’ll change my mind and run.’

It was easier that she was talking like this, because it only required him to say yes or no in reply to her words. But this was something he didn’t want to say yes to, even when it was so undeniably true. He may be doubting her, but he didn’t want her to know that for fear his doubt might make her question her decisions. If anything, it was becoming ever more clear to him why so many of his race never bothered with courting and marriage. It was difficult and often confusing, more so by the second. Feelings were treacherous things and so were doubts. And things were not helped along by the fact that he had found the most unconventional woman in Middle Earth as his future bride. Marrying one of her race would have been sufficient to make eyebrows shoot upwards and make people question his sanity, but she was born in another world, a world he had never been, and she had loved ones there as well. Part of him could not blame her for caring about the ones she had left behind, but at the same time it made him fear that she would choose them over him in the end, especially now that things were getting difficult.

His silence spoke for him. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ Kate said angrily. It was clear that, unlike yesterday, she meant it sarcastic. And she was mad at him for doubting her. ‘Pleased to hear your faith in me is so strong. Honestly, what did you think? That I’d break my word and run off as soon as things got hard? I had hoped you knew me better than that by now.’ She shed the blanket and got up in one fluent motion before Thorin could stop her, grabbing her cloak and boots before making off to the nearest exit, in this case the door to the balcony.

It was the kind of moment when he realised he should have spent more time with females, so that he knew what to do when something like this happened. Going after her sounded like a good plan, but he didn’t know if his presence would be appreciated now that she had just run off. Maybe he should have listened to Bombur when he sought him out last night.

In the end he settled for putting on his own boots and grabbing his own cloak and go after her. The air was cold outside, more so with each passing day, and it bit his face and ears, but he had known worse. And he had learned soon that his race could withstand the elements better than either Kate or Master Baggins.

Kate was leaning heavily on the railing, face pale, knuckles white from the force with which she held onto the balustrade. She wasn’t well. She’d had that facial colour as well when she had fainted during the Mirkwood inferno. ‘Kate, are you well?’

‘Just dizzy.’ The tone of voice made it clear that she was still angry. ‘Got up too fast. My own bloody fault. Stop fussing. It’ll pass in a minute. The fresh air helps.’

‘You are not well,’ he concluded.

‘And you are fussing. Knock it off. It’s hugely annoying.’ She still didn’t meet his eyes. ‘You could start by not doubting me at every turn, you know. I have enough of bloody Thranduil and Erland doing that already without having you add to the mix.’

‘I am not doubting you.’ Not all that long ago he had told himself that he didn’t do lying, but here he was, doing it all the same. It was true that he didn’t want to doubt, but that wasn’t the same as not doing it. Because if he were in her shoes, would he give up his entire life to be with her? Mahal knew that he envied her the family she still had, while his immediate kin had all died, with the exceptions of Dís and her sons. Would he give them up if it was asked of him? He wasn’t sure what his answer would be if their situations were reversed. ‘I envy you.’ That was not something he had planned on saying, but at least it was the truth.

Kate turned around. ‘ _Envy_ me?’ She spoke the words as if she could barely comprehend that he meant it. ‘Are you kidding me?’

‘You have a loving family,’ Thorin pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t wish for you to lose them.’

Kate’s expression turned wistful again. ‘And I don’t want to lose them, believe me.’ She stared out over the camp of their foes. ‘But neither do I want to lose you and the family I’ve got here, even Dori. It is what I feared would happen, torn in half. Right now I am not even sure where I belong.’

Thorin did not like the sound of that at all. ‘You belong here,’ he said forcefully.

‘I think the elves might find that debatable.’ Kate neatly side-stepped the comment, which did nothing at all to calm Thorin’s nerves. There was something she was not telling him. ‘But with any luck they won’t have their allies anymore soon enough. Lord Erland is a greedy one. He’ll take what he can get and we are being generous. Much more generous than he deserves, in my humble opinion, but there you have it. Bard certainly seemed to think we were more than reasonable.’

It was her way, chattering on about something else to distract him. Normally he would let her, and she was talking about something that by all rights should have his undivided attention. It seemed she was planning on turning this into one of their morning strategy talks, the ones they’d had on the road, when most of the company was still sleeping and it was just the two of them awake. It were the best memories he had of Thranduil’s gloomy kingdom. Nothing good had happened there beside that.

Today however he was not to be distracted. ‘I wish to come with you.’ Something he had long been thinking about suddenly found the way to his mouth.

Kate had been talking still, but his announcement made her stop and look at his leg. ‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. You still need that cane to walk. Thranduil will have a field day, I don’t doubt.’

It was only then that he realised she had misinterpreted. ‘I meant when you go back to your world to say goodbye.’ Not to stay. She’d said she would and he needed to have faith in that she meant that. ‘To ask your family’s blessing.’ Now he had made it sound respectable, and not like he doubted her return should she leave.

Kate arched an eyebrow, but in the end she smiled. ‘I’d like that,’ she said. ‘I’m not so sure you will like it there, though.’

‘There aren’t any elves there,’ he reminded her, thinking of something she had once told the company, one of the very few things he knew about her world.

‘Neither are there dwarves, or wizards, or orcs,’ Kate said. ‘Where I come from… it’s so vastly different from this world. They’re nothing alike, yet people seem to be the same everywhere. It’s… it’s so strange. Sometimes it does feel like a dream.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll get used to it, I suppose. But it is going to take some time. Grant me that?’

He nodded, head still reeling from the implication of what she had just said. ‘There’s only the race of Men where you come from?’ He couldn’t imagine a world without the races that populated Middle Earth and it felt strange to him. Small wonder Kate had taken such a long time adjusting. Her world must be stranger than he had been able to imagine.

Kate nodded. ‘Yes. I can imagine that was something of a shock for you.’

It was and he didn’t bother to deny it. ‘It must be very different indeed.’

This had Kate laughing; a real, genuine laugh that took a bit of the chill out of the air. ‘You don’t know half of it. Tell me, do dwarves suffer heart attacks?’

Thorin shook his head. ‘I have never heard of such a thing.’

‘Good. Very good.’ The smile remained on her face. ‘That is strange too, you know, you coming over to meet my family. Maybe it’s their hearts I should worry for, instead of yours.’

‘Tell me about them.’ His request not only took her by surprise, but also him.

Kate struggled to find the right words. ‘Well, there’s my mother, Helen. She’s a teacher and the kindest woman you’ll ever meet, until she gets really angry. They say I’ve got the shouting from her. You’ve seen her in the picture you took out of my bag in Rivendell.’

He gave her a stern stare. ‘It fell out of your bag. I merely picked it up.’

The advisor rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. Well, then there’s Jacko. My dearest twin brother.’

‘They are rare,’ Thorin commented. ‘For my race.’

Kate looked at him interestedly. ‘How rare?’

‘Once in a century, but far often even less,’ he replied. His people could do with them, though. Their numbers had been dwindling for so long. The exile and the war hadn’t helped either. To find out that Kate had a twin brother had been a revelation, even though he had known that she was of another race and it was not all that rare to her. But from what he’d heard, he’d have believed that twins were close and Kate was a very independent soul.

‘That’s rare, all right,’ Kate agreed. ‘For the record, people often don’t believe we’re twins, we look that different.’ She laughed again. ‘We used to be close.’

‘You miss him,’ Thorin stated.

‘Of course I do. Wouldn’t be much of a sister if I didn’t. Still, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.’ It was a bit scary how she sometimes read his mind like she read that book of hers. At other times she could be completely blind though, even when it was blatantly obvious to Thorin. ‘There’s not much leaving going on anyway with that sorry lot in front of the door.’ She narrowed her eyes at the camp, as if she could glower them away if she only focused hard enough. ‘Do you think we stand a chance? Truly?’

He knew that she was unlikely to believe that and they both knew that. Thorin had his doubts about this as well. Yet they had never spoken about it, had always been forcing themselves into an optimism they didn’t feel. But speaking about it made it official, made the chances real that they would not get out of this without bloodshed.

‘Negotiations may not be sufficient,’ he admitted. Now that she had already uttered the unthinkable, he might as well admit the fears that were in his heart. For all their talking about later and building a life, there was still an enormous army there and they had been dancing around the subject as carefully as they had done about their own relationship before it got out in the open. And nothing good had ever come from keeping secrets between them and leaving things unspoken.

Kate rubbed her forehead. ‘Now there is a charming prospect,’ she commented. ‘What are our chances, should they decide to come and claim what does not belong to them?’

Thorin didn’t answer that question; they both knew the answer. There may be a dragon in front of the gate, but the gate itself was utterly destroyed and the corpse could not hold out unwanted visitors. He was sure that Thranduil knew that too. And he could trust the elf to take advantage of that whenever he had been provided with the flimsiest of excuses.

‘Gandalf will keep them in check,’ he replied. It was a hope as well as a shaky belief. The wizard had never been a very good friend, but he had gone through a lot of trouble to find an advisor whose job it was to prevent that the real events ended as they did in the book. He didn’t think it was Gandalf’s intent to change the ending by having elves and men raid Erebor. Thorin knew he had been used as a means to get rid of the dragon, but he also had the lingering suspicion that Gandalf wanted a strong kingdom in the East, for whatever reason he may have for that.

‘But only for so long,’ Kate pointed out. ‘You should have been there yesterday, Thorin. Lord Erland is doing everything in his power to be difficult, to insult us. Thranduil is more subtle, but he’s obviously goading him on. I think they want war and I’m not sure our attempts to stop them are going to be enough. Truth be told, we are in need of a miracle.’ She snorted. ‘Maybe Azog’s son will be obliging and come by with an army of his own to unite all of us, like the book said we would. Without the book’s results of course.’

‘Orcs are seldom as considerate as to oblige us,’ Thorin pointed out.

‘Seldom?’ Kate asked mockingly. ‘Do you mean to say that they ever are?’

She was trying to revive their banter, but Thorin was not in the right mood for it. Too many things were on his mind. ‘I have sent ravens to Dáin to ask him for his assistance in this matter,’ he said.

He was met by silence and when he looked at her, he saw that she was practically boiling with rage. ‘You did _what_?’ she snarled.

He didn’t bother to repeat himself, not when he knew that she had heard him loud and clear the first time, or she would not have reacted in this fashion. ‘You heard me.’

‘Oh, yes, I heard you,’ she said. ‘When did you do that?’

‘Yesterday morning,’ he replied, waiting for her fury to be fully unleashed. He could even guess at why she was so mad all of a sudden. In the book his request of his cousin had been a sign that he was no longer in possession of his own mind and that it was the madness acting. Both of them had been fearing it for so long and Kate would see this as a confirmation of one of her worst fears. But he could not see how there was any other course of action open to him now. And the reasons for doing as he did were wholly different. This had nothing to do with greed, not for him. It were his foes who were in the grip of it. ‘Kate, this is not what you think.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not thinking you are mad,’ Kate growled. ‘Not gold mad, anyway.’

Now she had lost him. ‘What do you mean?’

She rolled her eyes in what appeared to be exasperation. ‘Why didn’t you think to tell me?’ she demanded. ‘What the hell were you thinking, Thorin? I thought we talked about everything these days!’ The anger was laced with something that sounded a lot like hurt. ‘If you did this yesterday morning, you did it before I left. Don’t you think I would have liked to know what was going on before you sent me in there?’ Her voice was steadily rising to a shout.

‘Catherine…’

She wasn’t listening. ‘Brilliant, really! I thought I had your confidence, yet somehow you don’t trust me enough to tell me that! Goes to show how much faith you truly have in me. Good to know for future reference.’

She made to turn away, but Thorin was quicker this time. He grabbed her wrist. ‘Kate, listen to me.’

‘I’m not in the mood.’ She had been around him for too long; her tone of voice was as  icy as his. ‘Let. Go. Of. Me.’ He could see flames of anger blazing in her eyes. It was familiar, yet at the same time unfamiliar. It had been very long since she had looked at him like this and it made him let go of her hand as if he had burned himself, shocked by what he had seen in her eyes.

Kate stalked past him, back inside. She didn’t look back.

 

***

 

Kate told herself she was angry, nothing more and certainly nothing less. Her feelings were nothing near other emotions such as disappointment and several other things she couldn’t quite give a name to. But it hurt. It was a feeling both in her guts and heart, like a knife had been stabbed into them, twisting round and round. The cause was not physical, it was a mental thing. And she also knew what caused it.

Why hadn’t he told her? That was the question that kept going round and round. Why had he not told her? Why had he kept quiet for twenty-four hours before he saw fit to tell her? He had said that she had his absolute faith, so why had he kept his silence and acted like she was a child that could not be trusted to not blab her king’s secrets to his enemies. Yes, he had told her now, but only because the conversation they were having was going in that direction anyway. If it hadn’t, would he not have told her at all until Dáin and his men were standing on their doorstep?

It had gone through her head in a matter of half a second, and it had fed her angry response too. But it had lingered far longer. It kept going round and round in her head long after she had stormed out – or rather _in_ , since she had been outside when she left Thorin stewing over her words – and it effectively kept her mind from things she should be thinking about. She ought to have been thinking about the meeting she was about to attend, but instead she had found herself second-guessing Thorin’s actions and motives as Dori attacked her hair with a comb and made sure she looked every bit the queen she was pretending to be. Nori, despite her protests, had gone back to the treasury to find a crown for her and he had come back with a diadem that, by Kate’s reckoning, would account for most of her salary for the next decade. She had exclaimed that she could not possibly wear such a thing, but Balin had been the one to point out that queens could and even though she kept insisting she could not wear it, Dori had braided it into her hair. She had looked in the mirror he had made her look into and she had to admit that she looked very royal. Strangely enough, she had observed, her face hardly showed any of her distress. It was only visible in her eyes. But Thranduil could smell distress the way the dogs at the airport smelled out drugs in people’s luggage and therefore she had to hide it. She had to, or else they were all doomed. And this was not a good time for her to start playing at being a wailing banshee.

And so she had looked in the mirror until she was sure she had every part of her carefully back under control. She had made this quest her own and she was not at liberty to start falling apart before this kingdom was well and truly restored. It was not yet. And, she told herself, this was hardly the first fight she’d had with Thorin. They had begun their acquaintance with shouting, for heaven’s sake, and she should know by now that Thorin always secretive when he was anxious about something. This turn of events would have done that for him. But still…

She squashed it. _Not now_. Later, when all this was over, she would ask. She would force herself into calm and confront him, but now she had more important things on her mind. If she was going to be a queen for real, then she should put Erebor’s concerns before her own, and that was what she would do now.

She looked back into the mirror one final time and barely recognised herself. Dori had beaten her hair into obedience. The diadem was braided in and she had two other braids hanging down. The rest of her hair fell down her back in curls that didn’t look as messy as they usually did. Well, she supposed that a dwarf who sported such an elaborate hairdo himself would know how to deal with things like that. She was wearing the dress she’d worn the day before. Now that she had worn it once before, it didn’t feel all that alien anymore. She was more comfortable in it. Under the given circumstances, that had to be a good thing.

‘My queen.’

She swivelled around to see Kíli stand in the room, giving her a mocking bow.

‘Flatterer,’ she threw back. Within seconds he had tempted her into a smile. There was something about him that made it almost impossible to remain unhappy around him. ‘What brings you here on this fine morning?’

‘I am on elf-duty,’ he informed her. ‘Thorin reckons it’ll be good to have some experience with them.’

‘You’re replacing Dori?’ she asked. It was a good thing that her eldest brother had just left. He would not have enjoyed talk like this, or the suggestion that he could not keep his temper in check around the elves.

‘Dori is needed here,’ Kíli corrected her, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes.

‘For what, I wonder?’ Kate mused. ‘To tell my dear brother that robbing the treasury is not done?’ She laughed as he did. ‘You can save the political correctness for Thranduil. And maybe stun him into silence while you’re at it. I bet he’s never met a real dragonslayer before. Who knows, you can bask in their praise.’

‘Thranduil, praising me?’ Kíli laughed humourlessly, in a way that reminded Kate too much of his uncle. _We both had to grow up too fast, him and me_ , she thought. It felt like a loss to her. Maybe because it was.

‘Stranger things have happened,’ she shrugged. Maybe they might even find a way to make Thranduil see sense, might find a way to mend whatever it was that had gone wrong between her and Thorin this morning. If she could be whisked from her own world, then surely a lot of impossible things should be possible. Somehow it seemed like it should be that way. Instead they needed to go through an awful lot of trouble. And she was not looking forward to any of it. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with. Heaven forbid they’d start a war because we’re running late.’

That was the last thing she could use, especially not when nerves and tempers were already so frayed and close to breaking point. She wanted to get this over with, wanted them to leave. Well, she supposed every dwarf currently under the Mountain wanted them to go back to wherever they had come from, so she was hardly an exception.

Dwalin was calm, like he had been the day before. No surprise there; he had that facial expression that hid everything he felt. Kate could only hope to imitate it and not look like a complete fool. Kíli on the other hand was clearly nervous. He tried not to show it, but his hand was close to his sword, which told Kate all she needed to know about his state of mind, which was not all that different from hers. They only needed him to hold in any outbursts and that he could do better than Dori, which was why they were bringing him along.

She didn’t see Thorin any more before she left the Mountain through the main gate. It didn’t matter, she told herself. They had agreed on what terms she could make peace with the allies in the tent and now it was up to her how exactly she achieved that. Still, it hurt that he wasn’t here to wish her luck. If anything, it proved to Kate that things between them were currently far from okay.

‘Where’s Thorin?’ The question had escaped her mouth before she had given herself permission to ask it.

‘Dealing with Dori,’ Dwalin replied. ‘Seems your brother disagrees with the decision to let Kíli go in his place.’

 _See? There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for his absence_ , Kate thought, forcing herself to believe that it had indeed nothing to do with the fight she’d had with him. _Now stop wool-gathering and get a move on._

Once she got herself squeezed past the dragon she did exactly that. The wind was cold and she shivered, even with her warm cloak wrapped around her, but it did the job of clearing her mind. And that certainly was no excessive luxury now, more like a necessity of life. Thranduil would use it if he thought she was distracted and that would make that elf come out the victor. Kate was very unwilling to hand him his victory on the proverbial silver platter though. She wasn’t willing to give him any victory at all. And the same was true for the gold in the Mountain. There was no chance he would ever see as much of a coin of that.

She thought on what she knew about the elf’s motivation. Yesterday she had heard that he demanded recompense for the damage done to his beloved forest and for the damage Smaug had done to his realm over the years. Kate couldn’t really argue with his claim about the forest – which of course she had done all the same – but she hadn’t seen any dragon-caused damage in Mirkwood while she had been there and she strongly suspected that it was just a whole load of nonsense. Thranduil was greedy and that was the beginning and the end of it. So, for that matter, was his new best friend the Master of Lake-town. Only they didn’t have the luxury to give him nothing. The men were going to be their next-door neighbours for all intents and purposes.

Elvaethor was waiting outside the tent again. He bowed low when he saw them. ‘Good morning, Queen Kate. I trust you slept well?’ His wink at her belied how seriously he was taking this whole greeting.

‘I did, thank you.’ Kate rolled her eyes. ‘You met Dwalin of course, but I don’t think you’ve met my other companion. Elvaethor, may I introduce you to Kíli Dragonslayer?’

The elf’s eyes widened considerably and Kíli’s cheeks were a bit redder than they had been. Of course that could just be the result of the biting wind and the icy cold, but she didn’t think so. She was however very certain that every elf in the tent had heard her words. With their enhanced hearing they would be able to hear every word that was spoken here. Hopefully that would remind them what it was that the company had done and that might help into shaming them into backing off. _Queen Catherine the Cunning makes yet another appearance._

‘It is an honour to meet you,’ Elvaethor said politely. The elf was nothing if not courteous. _Lord Elvaethor’s friendship is a precious thing, Queen Catherine. You are lucky to have it._ That was what Legolas had said and she was starting to see the truth in that, if that prince was right and Elvaethor truly was on their side, as he had tried to make her believe. His behaviour certainly seemed to point in that direction, but he was always so careful about not saying what he wanted and not outright telling her his motivations that it was hard to be sure. From what she had seen she could tell that he was walking a tightrope, being loyal to his king and people whilst helping his king’s enemies at the same time. Of course, she could be entirely wrong about him. That was the difficulty with elves; they were so bloody hard to read.

Kíli merely inclined his head in a sign of acknowledgement. Kate privately suspected he didn’t know what to say, but the gesture itself had Thorin written all over it.

The tent itself was warmer than it should have been considering the temperature outside. Kate strongly suspected magic was at work. After all, Lady Galadriel and Gandalf were both present and she reckoned both had enough power to meddle with the temperature like that.

She was pleased that she could forego the pleasantries of meeting everyone this time. She had no intention of letting the elves anywhere near her and she wasn’t sure she could endure another round of the elven king kissing her hand without her vomiting over it in disgust; there was something distinctly unpleasant about his touch.

‘Good morning,’ she said to the people gathered. A quick glance told her that the negotiators were all the same, but there were more guards. That was unlikely to mean well. And from the corner of her eye she could see that Dwalin had seen it as well, seen it and was unnerved by it. They at least had the advantage of being very close to the exit, but she knew from experience that elves were quick. If they decided to take the three of them hostage, she doubted there was very much any of them could do about it.

‘Queen Kate,’ Thranduil said thoughtfully, as if he was tasting her name.

Kate stepped on it. ‘I do not believe I had given you leave to use that name, King Thranduil.’

The elf smiled pleasantly, but there was that twinkle in his eyes that Kate didn’t trust. ‘This name seems to suit you, my lady.’

 _Possibly because you think it sounds less royal_ , Kate thought venomously. ‘It is a name that only my friends are allowed to use.’ She realised her mistake the moment she had said it and set out to make it right. ‘Lord Elvaethor has earned the right by being honest with me and treating me when I was wounded.’

The truth was, she just let Elvaethor get away with it. Queen Kate sounded funny and he had learned her name when he overheard Thorin saying it during their escape from Mirkwood. And he had the potential of being a friend, something the elves, thanks to her spectacular slip up, must now at least be suspecting. _Well done, girl. You blew it before you’ve even started. Must be some kind of record._ And not one that she was proud of.

She decided to change the subject. ‘I do however not think we came here to discuss my name and its use by various persons.’ It was the truth, she reckoned, and so she had a right to tell them all off for going on and on about things that were not important. Well, they were, because she had just given Thranduil a very big clue about Elvaethor’s loyalty, or lack thereof. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

The way the elf smiled only confirmed that for her. Nevertheless, he let go of the matter; he already knew what he wanted to know after all. ‘That is certainly true,’ he said. ‘We have done as you asked, Queen Catherine.’ _There has to be a first_. ‘We have given your proposition every consideration.’

 _I somehow sincerely doubt that_. Thranduil would not have given it a moment’s thought; his facial expression the previous day had spoken volumes. He was not going to back off and if he wasn’t, there was a good chance that Lord Erland wouldn’t do it either. It was for that reason that she agreed with Thorin about the need for Dáin to come over and help them putting the odds back in their favour again. Right now they were too weak to have a good negotiating position. Dáin, if he came, would be a great help. They wouldn’t be as weak as they were now. It was just that he had not told her that was not sitting right with her, but she couldn’t argue with the idea itself.

‘That is very good to hear,’ she forced herself to say. ‘Although from a king such as yourself I had expected no less.’ She tried to make the sarcasm subtle and she thought she did a good job of it. No one would be able to accuse her of being rude, but the message had been conveyed all the same.

Thranduil ignored the slight. ‘I do however not think that it will come as a surprise to you that I will not be able to agree to your terms. You would send me away without due payment and that, I am sure you’ll agree, would be a grave injustice after what my kingdom has suffered at the dragon’s wrath. Not all the treasure inside Erebor belongs to the dwarves. Smaug has taken much from my kingdom during his reign under the Mountain. Furthermore you will have to agree that a lot of damage was done to my realm only recently.’

‘You see, but I do not agree,’ Kate pointed out. ‘That is why I have offered the terms that I did. I do believe it would be a grave injustice to give into your demands when we owe you nothing, nothing at all. Would you offer reward to the people who turned their back on you in your hour of need and who imprisoned you because they feared the return of your king to power?’

‘That is not what this is about,’ the elven king said.

‘That is _exactly_ what this is about,’ Kate countered. ‘But I do suppose that I have your answer.’

‘You do,’ the elf said. ‘And I will not move my troops from here until my terms are met.’

 _You wait until Dáin is here and see if you sing the same song then_ , Kate thought angrily, but she managed, with great difficulty, to keep her face in that neutral expression that betrayed nothing. Much as she hated Thorin not squaring his plans with her, there was wisdom in them and part of her was glad that he had thought of it. Not that she would tell him that anytime soon.

‘I will ask my people to withdraw.’ Someone else spoke before Kate was given the opportunity to explode in a truly unqueenly manner. To her surprise it was Bard who had spoken. ‘You spoke of rebuilding the city of Dale and extending the hand of friendship to its people. I would be honoured to take you up on that offer.’

Kate couldn’t suppress the relieved smile that crept onto her face. There was no denying that this was what she had been hoping for. It didn’t quite take the sting out of the elves’ response, but Thorin’s ploy had at least partially succeeded. She knew that Bard was a man with a lot of influence and many people would probably follow him when he set out to rebuild Dale. That made Lord Erland’s might a bit less terrifying.

‘I am looking forward to cooperating with you in the future,’ she told him, meaning every word she said. True, Bard had pleaded with her not to go anywhere near Erebor, but he was also honest to a fault. This was someone who kept his word, someone one could do business with and not be afraid that there was a secret agenda or danger of him not keeping to the agreements made. Kate had no doubt that they would sometimes disagree and his interests would not always be hers, but he was at least reasonable and heaven be thanked for that. Small mercy, but better a small one than none at all.

‘Likewise, Queen Catherine,’ he said.

Kate smiled, relieved. ‘The pleasure is all mine,’ she assured him.

The relief however was short-lived. ‘I will not withdraw.’ The owner of the voice that spoke those words was not surprisingly Lord Erland. Before she had come here today, she had truly believed that he could be made to see reason. He was so greedy that he would take what he was offered, not wanting to risk getting nothing at all. But it would seem that she had underestimated Thranduil’s influence. There was no sign of giving in with him, nothing at all to suggest that he was about to give in.

‘I do believe that we are at least owed an explanation for why you will not do so.’ Kate forced herself to remain calm. Under the table, she clenched her fists again. That was the only reaction she could allow herself.

‘I have not heard what will be paid to us,’ the Master declared.

Was that all that it was? ‘In that case, let me enlighten you,’ Kate said. Stupid of her not to say this before, she knew, but she had not exactly been calm at the conclusion of the talks yesterday. That would be the problem. ‘We are willing to recompense you for all the costs you had to make on our behalf when we were so graciously welcomed into your town. In addition we will offer you twice that amount on top of that as a token of our gratitude and our hopes of doing business with you and your people as soon as the Mountain is restored.’

In her opinion that was more than reasonable and certainly far more than that waste of space deserved. Thorin had been of the same mind, but it could not be helped. They would need to offer a lot in order to make Erland and his merry men turn away. No doubt he would exaggerate the expenses he’d had to make, but they could live with that. Erland knew this too, she imagined.

The blow when he refused the offer came all the harder because of that. ‘I had heard that the dwarves are reluctant to part with their gold,’ the Master said venomously. ‘And I now see the truth of that. Do you value our help so low, that you would repay us so little?’

Kate’s temper flared before she could check herself. ‘I do believe we are willing to pay far more than you are owed,’ she pointed out. ‘I do believe, my lord, that you have no right whatsoever to demand more.’ What the hell was that bloody man playing at? There was something malicious in the way he spoke and behaved and she didn’t like it one bit. It made her feel like she was missing the point somewhere. _Curse these political games. I wish Jacko was here._

‘I have heard that the halls of Erebor are overflowing with gold and that more gold is in its deeps, waiting only to be mined,’ Lord Erland countered. ‘It would hardly impoverish your people to be generous with the wealth they have at their disposal.’

If he was trying to enrage her, then he was succeeding, spectacularly so. Thorin’s conduct in these situations was now a source of inspiration and she drew on it. ‘It is the legacy of my people, the result of their labour and efforts that you would take for your own without having a right to it,’ she said heatedly. Kíli was growling low in his throat in anger. Dwalin didn’t give a physical reaction, but he was practically oozing hostility. ‘It is not within my rights to squander it on people who come to our doorstep, threatening violence unless their terms are met. We have offered reasonable terms, it is your choice not to take them.’

‘I had heard too that a streak of madness runs in the ruling line of Durin,’ Lord Erland said. ‘I choose to believe that these are your husband’s words you are conveying, and we are prepared to give him the time to reconsider.’

He exchanged a glance with Thranduil, who nodded. Kate dreaded to think what they were agreeing about, but it became apparent soon enough.

‘Until the time that he does so, we declare the Mountain besieged,’ the Master announced.

A very cold shiver found its way down Kate’s spine.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I am not sure whether I should be angry on scared; I seem to be feeling both in equal measure. Good God, where will this end?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that “happy” note I am afraid I will leave you for a couple of weeks. Christmas time is a very busy time and lots of people have claims to my time, it would seem. I’ll be back in January, but until then my on-going stories are taking a holiday. I am however working on a little story about the Battle of the Five Armies, Tears of Blood, which I hope to finish soon. The first two chapters are already up, so if you’d like, you can check that out. I may be able to get another chapter of Duly Noted done as well.   
> Next time: lots of conversations, misunderstandings and problems.   
> Merry Christmas to you all! Please review?


	75. Many Conversations

_Lord Erland’s threat, because that was what it was and no doubt about it, made my skin crawl and left me with a violent urge to throw up in fear or faint, either one. I felt trapped. I guess that is the right word for it. But most of all I felt powerless, unable to change my own fate. We were at the mercy of people who, as far as I was aware, were not familiar with that word at all. I wanted to kick and scream and hope to make to see them reason that way, but I strongly doubted that would make them act in accordance with my will._

_No, for the time being they had the upper hand and they knew it. I suppose I could be glad that they had not yet threatened to take the Mountain by force, instead opting on starving us out, which was not such a stupid idea at all. Our rations had been rather meagre since we had left Lake-town – which hadn’t stopped Dori and Thorin from trying to load more onto my plate than I was owed anyway – but they would not last indefinitely. And Smaug was not exactly the kind of dragon who kept food in store in case visitors dropped by. I assume he had been more likely to eat his visitors than he had been to offer them food. And he had laid such waste to the area around Erebor that nothing edible grew there. Hard to imagine for you, I’d wager, but that was the truth of it. We all knew that we could not sit out a siege indefinitely. We were in need of supplies and it was unlikely in the extreme that any of our foes would harm their own cause by giving us what we needed._

_I do not think any of you has ever witnessed a real siege, but in so many ways it is more frightening than any battle can be. I believe that I can at least say so with some authority, having witnessed both of those things for myself. The thing about sieges is that there is only the waiting and that is the very worst of it. There is nothing you can do, especially not when you are with only so few people. In a battle at least you have a sword and your own skills to rely on. There is always the chance to do something, always the chance that you may come out victorious. Even if you die, you’ll die fighting. Hunger and despair, I have learned, are harder foes to fight and the consequences are often disastrous._

_And at that moment there was no denying it: we were well and truly trapped…_

 

Kate had great difficulty to stop the inner trembling from becoming a visible trembling. She felt that her blood had run cold the moment she had heard the formal declaration falling from Lord Erland’s lips with such ease. It was as if he had been waiting to deal the killing blow. He sounded far too pleased with himself and the outcome of these negotiations.

This has always been his intent, Kate realised. He never hoped to sort this out as reasonable people might do. He wanted war. He had always wanted it, ever since the moment he realised that they were going to unsettle his comfortable life. His help to them had been utterly reluctant and if they had given him as much as one excuse, they’d have been back in Thranduil’s dungeons before they could say dragon. But since he was not at liberty to do that, and since it was all too obvious that they had not been burned to cinders by an overenthusiastic dragon, he could still act out his revenge. It made Kate’s stomach twist and turn with fear, like she had swallowed poison that was burning her from the inside. Her hands were sweaty, and so she kept them firmly folded in her lap; no need for anyone to see that she had been badly frightened.

But that was something she could not do. Anger, wholly justified anger, was a better way to channel her emotions. ‘This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, my lord?’ She had to work hard not to make that question in a snarl. ‘Get rid of our company and take all of Erebor’s wealth for your own? Have you so little shame? We have proven that we are more than willing to give you your due, more than your due even, and you would see us destroyed?’

The anger was boiling up now and it was becoming uncontrollable. She’d never been any good at any of this diplomatic business that required her to rein in her temper and make nice with people she would never even have spoken to if given the chance. And now all her self-control had come to nothing and not because she herself was at fault. The outcome of these negotiations had been determined before she had even come here. What use would it be to her now to smile and pretend she didn’t want to kill them all on the spot? It was not as if she could actually do it.

Lord Erland had clearly not been anticipating this much frankness, because he was staring at her like a fish stranded on dry land; mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out of it. More fool him. She had a lot to say, all stored up, and he had just given her the perfect excuse to vent it all.

‘You are very much mistaken…’ he began.

Kate didn’t buy it. ‘Do me at least the courtesy of not lying to me, sir,’ she snapped at him. ‘I know you’re not speaking the truth and you know that I know.’ Her heart was beating too fast; it was pounding in her chest so loudly that she was sure everyone could hear it. Best stick to anger; it was safer than fear. But oh dear, did she fear what was now ahead. Their food was running out, they could not sit out a siege indefinitely, and neither party would budge. Dáin had better come, and better come quickly, or all of them would be doomed. For heaven’s sake, could Gandalf not do something, anything at all to make these people see sense? ‘You have never supported this quest and you have made the mistake of listening to King Thranduil’s poisonous words. Do please not try to deny it.’

‘My lady, you could always decide to give us what is rightfully ours and none of this needs to happen,’ Thranduil said. He even sounded friendly, as if he was only doing this for their own good. Kate would sooner believe that the sun rose in the west and set in the east. ‘We take no pleasure in doing this, believe me.’

‘I don’t,’ she said brusquely. ‘You have been busy stoking the flames of discord. I find it very hard, if not impossible, to believe that you of all people would have our best interest at heart. So far the only interest I have seen you support is your own. Your conduct in your own realm spoke volumes, I must say.’

It was all so unfair and there was nothing she could do against it. These people were so much more powerful than she was. She was like a baby rabbit shouting at a pack of hungry wolves to leave her alone. It was useless and so very, very frightening.

‘I must tell you that surely there is a mistake here,’ Thranduil said.

‘No, I don’t think there is,’ Kate all but growled at him. ‘Will you go and leave us in peace?’

‘You know I can’t do that,’ the elven king said. The bastard even had the guts to make it sound like he had no choice at all in the matter.

‘Then there is no mistake. I’ll take my leave of you now.’ She couldn’t stand these sanctimonious old bastards for even as much as a second longer. This was not even anything to do with the book. This was twisted and complicated and malicious. Some things were the same, while others were so drastically changed. This had nothing to do with greed on Thorin’s side – as far as Kate was concerned, he had been more than reasonable in the offers he had made to them – and everything to do with greed on the side of the elven king and the Master of Lake-town. And it didn’t matter what she said. Somehow she even doubted that they would go and leave them be, even if the entire wealth of the Mountain was offered to them. ‘I can only hope that you will reconsider your unjust actions.’

She picked up her skirt, turned and all but marched out of the tent. Her vision was blurred, but she refused to refer to it as tears. Even so, the emotions were warring within her, making her want to scream and cry and break down, but she would keep her dignity. To lose it in front of these men was not worth it.

Good grief, what had she been thinking? How could she ever have thought that she could be a queen, even if only in pretence? What had Thorin been thinking? What had they both been thinking? She had failed. The rational part of her mind told her that the fault was not hers; these negotiations would always have failed, no matter what she would have done. Still, she could not escape the feeling, the overwhelming feeling, of not being suited for this. This was not the kind of life she had been meant to lead. She had always been meant to be a journalist with a simple, normal life. She’d do her job, and then go home, read a book, maybe have a family of her own in time. Simple, normal, easy. This she could not do.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I should have done better.’

‘Not your fault,’ Dwalin said curtly. ‘Their minds were made up from the start.’

‘I should have taught them some manners,’ Kíli growled. ‘What they did…’ He trailed off, clearly not having the words for it. Kate experienced a similar problem, only that she had too many words for it, far too many, and she didn’t know which ones to say first.

‘I know,’ she therefore said. And now what would become of them? Thorin was too stubborn to give up now, not when he had done all that he had set out to do, certainly too stubborn to hand over what was his to his enemies, even when he might as well die when he did not. Kate was of a similar mind, but she feared death more than Erebor in elvish hands. Maybe that was because she, unlike Thorin, was not a dwarf and she had none of his bravery. _God, I wished I was home!_

It had been a good long while since she had thought such a thing, but today was a day for dismal thoughts and even though she was a little shocked at the thought and the intensity of it, she was not blaming herself for it. Would it really be this wrong to wish for an end to all of this? _Let it end. Please just let it end._

‘Queen Kate?’ She only realised she was on the brink of tears when she heard her name called. Furious with herself for losing her composure after all, she wiped the tears away with her sleeves and turned around.

‘Lord Elvaethor.’ She sounded icier than she had intended, because of her own attempts not to allow that treacherous tremor into her voice. No, she would not sink that low. ‘What brings you here now that the meeting is concluded? Is not all said and done already?’

Her harsh tone definitely registered on his radar. ‘This was not of my making, I assure you,’ he said. The words sounded formal, and formal was not something Kate would first think of when thinking about Elvaethor.

The last thing she should do now was to alienate the one elf she could trust to be somewhat on her side and she had just endangered his allegiance. She cursed herself for a fool. ‘Forgive me. I know it is not your doing.’ She wasn’t really used to apologising to elves – most of them didn’t give her reason to regret her actions towards them – but she did it now. ‘And I must apologise for giving the impression to your king that you are my friend. I had no right to.’ Only heaven knew what Thranduil would do with that information. She didn’t think elven kings were in the habit of chopping people’s heads off, but their dungeons were unpleasant enough. That was a fate she didn’t wish on him, not after everything he had done for them.

‘You had every right, Queen Kate,’ the elf insisted. ‘For it is the truth and I do not feel ashamed of it. I count you a dear friend, who has been wronged tremendously.’ Something sparked in his eyes. For the first time she had known the former captain of the guard, his face was readable and it was anger she saw there, genuine anger at what had been done. It had stripped him of his cryptic ways and his teasing words.

‘The feeling is mutual,’ she told him, finding to her surprise that she meant it. ‘But what would your king do if he were to find out? Would you not be in any danger?’

‘Elves do not slay kin,’ Elvaethor said. ‘If that is your fear.’

‘I dare say prison is very uncomfortable,’ she countered, hardly believing that she was even having this conversation at all. ‘As I can say from bitter experience on the matter.’ She looked at him. ‘I still do not know why you count me and mine as friends, but even though it clearly is so, I don’t think there is anything you can do for us.’ Suffer with them? That was something he could do, but something she wouldn’t ask of him. It wouldn’t serve any purpose. Bang Thranduil’s head against the nearest available rock? Yes, she supposed he could do that too, but that wouldn’t do any good either. It was not as if any sense would ever take up residence in that elf’s head, not even if someone tried to bang it into it.

‘I dare say our mutual friend will not let this pass,’ Elvaethor said. ‘And not all may be as desperate as it seems.’ He bended closer, so that only she could hear his next words. ‘You may want to re-open the secret door, Lady Kate. Edible gifts may easily find their way there.’

Kate could have sworn her heart missed a beat. It was spoken in his own cryptic manner, but there was nothing difficult to understand about what he was telling her. And it was a gift from heaven, if it was true. Much as she hated to suspect him, there was really no telling with elves what they were and weren’t up to.

‘I am glad to find you remember your oath,’ she said, smiling even though she didn’t want to. The relief was too big. The anger had been too real, she decided. He really didn’t like the course of action Thranduil was taking. And she had little choice but to trust him. There was no one else to turn to after all. And this way they just may hold out until Dáin arrived. If he did indeed arrive. ‘As I remember mine,’ she added for good measure. ‘We are much obliged to you. You are a much better friend than I dared to hope for. Thank you so very, very much.’

‘I am only seeking to right certain wrongs,’ the elf said. ‘And to help those I call friends.’

‘Some may say you are taking friendship a bit far,’ Kate remarked. Endangering himself for their sake? He hadn’t denied the possibility of prison, which had not escaped her notice.

‘Then I cannot help but think you have a poor experience with friendship,’ Elvaethor countered.

‘I would not say poor.’ She shook her head. ‘But never I have known someone who risked so much on my behalf when he does not know me so well. At that, I admit, I am surprised. If there ever is anything I can do in return, do not hesitate to ask.’ That was the right thing to say, wasn’t it? It still felt so very surreal, though. She’d had friends before, of course, but never had one been among the people she would need to call enemies. This must be the strangest friendship she’d ever had, but it might turn out that it was the one she would be the most grateful for.

‘I do not think this will be necessary,’ was the reply.

She sighed and tilted her head at him. ‘I may be bold to ask this, but can you at least for heaven’s sake just tell me why you’re acting as you do? It’s been driving me crazy thinking about it.’

‘Friendship,’ he said, taking Kate by surprise with his immediate response, when he had always claimed that his motives were his own. ‘Justice, balance.’ He bowed to her and, making her blush like an idiot, kissed her hand. ‘I thank you for your time.’

He was off before she could formulate a coherent reply to that. Heaven knew she could hardly wrap her head around his reply. The first two things she understood to a certain extent, but it was the last that made her frown in wonder. Balance? As in political balance? Could elves possibly get any more frustrating?

‘What was he on about?’ Kíli grumbled. When he was in a mood like this, he resembled his uncle so much it was almost scary.

‘We need to open the side door again,’ Kate said. Now that it really started to dawn on her that this was not some kind of sick joke, she felt as if the weight of the world itself had been lifted from her shoulders. Not all was lost yet. And she had never been the type to throw in the towel before all was said and done. She was not going to start now. ‘Dinner will be served that way.’

Kíli started to give off signs of feeling the same relief she felt, but Dwalin was unconvinced. ‘You think he is genuine?’

‘For what it’s worth, yes.’ Kate didn’t even know why she was this certain. It was one of those things that just was, a feeling in her gut that told her that he meant what he said and that he was going to honour that promise he made. He’d better keep it; Thorin wasn’t known to be very pleasant to people that deceived him. ‘Otherwise, feel free to shorten him by a head. But I think that you won’t need to. And God knows we need the help.’

That was something there could be no argument about and he didn’t raise one, for which she was grateful. Her judgement had let her down a few times, but not with this. This time she was certain. Elvaethor was on their side. It didn’t solve all her problem, but it solved a fair number. Now Dáin just needed to get his arse up and move it from the Iron Hills to Erebor.

She was just about to make for the Mountain, when her name was called for a second time, by Lord Bard this time. Kate turned again, conjuring up something that with a little imagination might pass for a smile. ‘Lord Bard. I am surprised to see you here.’ _I’d rather had it been Thranduil, humbly begging for my forgiveness, but I suppose I can’t have everything._

He bowed slightly. ‘Queen Catherine. Might I have a word?’

‘I suppose so,’ Kate said. _What the hell does he want with me? Why’s he here? Does he regret his decision?_ ‘Please, speak.’ The formalities were making her feel awkward. She was sounding like some noble straight out of some historical drama and she wondered if her companions could not see right through it. Surely it must be obvious to anyone with a brain that this was not who she really was. _Maybe you should have chosen a career as an actress after all, girl. Cop shows and historical drama are clearly right up your street. Oscar guaranteed._

If Bard noticed how uncomfortable she was speaking as she did, he didn’t show it. ‘I wish you to know that what happened grieves me,’ he said. ‘Even though I do think that some share of the treasure ought to have been given to the elves, since they lost what they owned in the attacks of the dragon.’

‘They forfeited it when they locked my company and me up as if we were common criminals for passing through their realm, for fear that we would unleash the dragon’s wrath on them.’ Thorin was adamant about this and so, she found, was she, more so by the second. _We do not negotiate with terrorists_ , was something her government was very fond of saying, back at home. Thranduil was threatening violence and death on those she cared for, herself included, unless they gave in to his demands. It sounded like a school example of a terrorist to her. And she did not give in to those, even though she would have to plead guilty to having negotiated with them. ‘I would ask of you to interfere no further in this matter.’ She conjured up a smile to take the edge off her words. ‘Do not get me wrong, Lord Bard, I do appreciate your decision for your people more than you can possibly know, but you will not change my mind on the matter of your allies. Neither, I think, will you be able to change theirs. It is a sad thing, but true.’

Bard nodded. ‘I came to inform you that even though I agree with their sentiments, I will stay out of the conflict that is now between you and them. I cannot and will not favour your company over my allies, not in good conscience. I do hope this doesn’t damage the relationship between our people.’

Conscience, he’d said. Bard was a man of his principles and she secretly admired him for that. Thorin no doubt would call Bard a coward for not sticking with the people to whom he’d extended the hand of friendship, but Kate didn’t do the same, not really. Of course she’d wish he would just get off that moral high ground of his and join them in their struggle, but if he did that, he’d give up his principles and that would put him on the same level as the rest of them. She didn’t think she’d really want that either; it would make him unpredictable.

‘We understand each other,’ she said. ‘You have my word that we will not hold your impartiality against you and that, when this conflict has been solved, the offer we have made will still stand. Under the given circumstances I can promise little else. I am sure you can understand this.’ She looked at him as sternly as she could muster. The effect of it was somewhat undermined by the fact that she was smaller than he was and she had to look up to him instead of being capable of looking down, as she would have preferred. ‘But if you break yours, I promise you now that you will find cause to regret it.’

‘I will do no such thing,’ Bard said, seeming rather indignant. ‘I had hoped you would have more faith in me.’

Kate snorted, almost ruefully. ‘The sad truth is, Lord Bard, that people have seldom given me good reason to take their word for anything.’ Her father sprang to mind, but that was a thought she crushed. Now was hardly the time or the place. ‘I thank you all the same. Good day.’

She took a deep breath, once more picked up her skirts and marched back to the Mountain. Time to break the news to Thorin.

 

***

 

Thorin had resumed his place on the battlements to look out over the clearing between the Mountain and the camp of his enemies. He couldn’t actually see or hear anything at all, but it made him feel a bit more at ease. Not for the first and probably not for the last time either he cursed his inability to be there with them, to hear the answers in person and to actively do something to stop his kingdom from being besieged by elves and men alike.

Kate had mentioned Gandalf’s presence and his possible influence on the proceedings, but Thorin didn’t share her optimism, which he wasn’t sure was genuine with her in the first place either. The book had made him see Gandalf as one who would choose the elves over him and it was hardly surprising, considering how much of a friend of elves the wizard seemed to be. He’d been so annoying about going to Rivendell at the start of the quest and Thorin had by no means forgotten about that. He didn’t think the wizard was to be trusted anymore. Was anyone to be trusted anymore? He could not even be certain of that any longer.

And he didn’t know what to do with Kate herself. _Brilliant, really! I thought I had your confidence, yet somehow you don’t trust me enough to tell me that! Goes to show how much faith you truly have in me. Good to know for future reference._ Her words were still going round and round in his head, the memory of the angry spark in her eyes still as vivid on his mind’s eye. Something had changed that morning, something that had taken them straight back to the arguing they used to do before they had first become allies. There had been lapses before – Mahal knew they had spent much of the quest arguing – but this was different. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. He had however the annoying feeling that he was the one who’d have to accept blame for what had passed.

They’d need to talk when she came back. This could not go on, not in the situation they were in. It was precarious enough as it was; the last thing they could use was arguing amongst themselves. No, that would never do.

He came back to the here and now when he caught sight of movement in the corner of his eyes. Kate had all but marched out of the tent, Dwalin and Kíli in her wake. If there was one advantage the advisor had over all of them – and she didn’t have any others that Thorin knew of – then it was that she was fast if she chose to be. Now she had Dwalin taking bigger steps and Kíli almost running in order to keep up with her. And it didn’t bode well. She tended to do that when she was angry. He could assume that this was a remnant of the anger she harboured towards him, but he didn’t think that it would have lasted through the meeting, not when she had better things to occupy her mind, as she would phrase it herself.

And he didn’t know what it was that caused people to run after her. Legolas had done it the day before and now Thorin saw Elvaethor do the same. He may be a bit more trustworthy than Legolas, but not much, in Thorin’s opinion. The elf was too unreadable, too evasive. He was, in short, too elvish.

And what Thorn saw did not warm him to the idea of the red-haired elf. At some point it even looked like he was kissing Kate. It was on the cheek, true enough, but it was a kiss all the same and he didn’t like the look of it. And Kate didn’t even push him away in disgust. She tolerated it. She also tolerated the kiss Elvaethor pressed on her hand before he took his leave of her. There was too much touch, far too much touch there, and he could do nothing to prevent it. Maybe Dwalin should have done something, or Kíli, but for some reason they didn’t. It didn’t make Thorin appreciate either of them very well.

Elvaethor had hardly left before Bard took his place. Thorin’s own dealings with the man who in another world may have slain the dragon had been very limited, but he knew Kate held him in high esteem. _He’s reasonable_ , she’d said. _And fair. He won’t see injustice done if he’s got a say in it_. Thorin had to take her word for it. He mainly recalled someone who had wanted to stop the quest, who feared the dragon’s wrath his company may unleash. He didn’t know how Kate had seen the qualities she had mentioned to him, since he had seen none of them.

At least he treated Kate with more respect than Elvaethor had done. He bowed to her and then left, no kissing whatsoever. Thorin liked the idea of that rather better.

He picked up his cane and began the climb down. His leg protested the treatment again; he’d been climbing too many stairs of late, far too many stairs, but what else could he do? He was not like those kings of Men, who sat on their thrones and let servants do their work for them, while they grew fat on the bounty of their land. He was not such a king. He led by example.

And by now he had an extra motivation. He needed to know what had been discussed in that tent. The meeting hadn’t lasted all that long and Kate’s face had predicted trouble. Without really knowing what had been said, he knew it was trouble. For them.

The others were strengthening the main gate with whatever material they could find. The dragon in front of it would be a deterrent, but it would not stop any troops that worked their way past the monster’s corpse. Kate had proven that could be done and there would be people who’d try it now that they were aware of the possibility.

Kate, Dwalin and Kíli were entering as he came into the hall. Kate’s face looked a lot less like there was a storm approaching. If anything, she appeared relieved, an emotion Thorin found hard to understand, especially in the light of her earlier behaviour. She had really seemed angry when she exited the tent. Was Elvaethor the one who had even managed to make her smile?

Dwarves were jealous. It was one of the things that was both commonly known and true. Thorin knew the feeling only too well. Never had it applied to a woman though, and the intensity of the emotion took him by surprise. Relations between elves and men were only slightly less rare than relations between dwarves and men, and he didn’t think Kate even looked at Elvaethor in that way. But Elvaethor looked at her like that, he feared.

‘What happened?’ he demanded, foregoing all pleasantries.

Kate didn’t even arch an eyebrow at it; she had grown used to it. It was their way to discuss things concerning the quest. Never before, though, had matters really looked this bleak.

‘They won’t leave,’ she reported curtly. ‘Lord Erland is of the opinion that he is owed a lot more than we’re offering, but it’s all talk. He’s out for revenge, Thorin. He’s always been, and now he spots the perfect opportunity to take the wealth of Erebor for himself and get rid of us in the process. Just like he’s always wanted. Thranduil just happily goes along with it, babbling on about how the dragon took from his realm.’ He noticed that one hand clenched into a fist; the other was crushing the fabric of her skirt already. ‘I told him he lost the right to treasure when he locked us up and refused aid, even though his alliance with your people demanded of him that he helped us.’

Thorin told himself that this was something he could have expected. He had never thought that this would work, not even once. Why else had he sent out ravens to Dáin the morning after the men and elves had arrived? The only reason for that was that he didn’t think any of this would work. The negotiations were only a way of stalling, of preventing the inevitable outcome of the talks. He had not expected them to go wrong this quickly. But then, everyone had been against them from the start. Should he have expected any differently now?

Still, the outcome was a frightening one, even more so because their supplies were running rather low. Dáin would need at least a few more weeks to get here and they did not have enough to eat for that amount of time. His foes had chosen their time well, and their strategy as well. Soon they would begin to feel the result of too few meals and then starving would follow. Thorin remembered the feeling of that only too well. It had been many years since his exile had begun, but the memory was as fresh in his mind as it had ever been. Not enough food for everyone, the cries of starving children, the despair of parents, going hungry themselves, as they had nothing to give them. There were no children currently under the Mountain, but both Kate and the hobbit were weaker than his own men. They were vulnerable.

Kate misinterpreted his silence as her cue to carry on with her report. ‘Bard will withdraw his people, though, and, when all this has been solved, he will be honoured to take us up on our offer. His words, not mine. He won’t take sides in the conflict though. He wishes to remain impartial.’ She spoke the word as if it was something particular nasty. ‘He agrees with the elvish sentiments though, even tried to plead with me on their behalf, which was why he came after me when the meeting was finished. I told him to keep out of it. Bloody nuisance. He won’t be any use to anyone like this, probably not even to himself.’ The frown deepened, which the dwarf king recognised as a sign of the frustration that it was.

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her, which they both knew was an unspoken request to elaborate.

Kate obliged. ‘How well do you think his little stunt will go over with Thranduil and Lord Erland? I can tell you that they weren’t exactly doing a happy dance around the negotiating table.’

‘Strife in their midst will distract them,’ he couldn’t help but point out. It was what he had been hoping for ever since negotiations had first begun. If they were bickering amongst themselves, chances were that one of the parties could be convinced to take the side of the dwarves in the conflict, if only to spite the former ally. Thranduil would rather die than help dwarves, but the minds of men were fickle and easily persuaded. Maybe not all news was bad.

‘Yes, that seems to be the truth of it,’ Kate agreed. Something icy had found the way into her voice. Thorin had a sneaking suspicion that this was not all about elves and men anymore, but about them. They had parted in anger. Maybe that anger had been right, and maybe it hadn’t.  Yes, he had kept secrets from her, but he had only done so because that would make her surprise at Dáin’s armies genuine. It wouldn’t do to let their foes think that Kate was in on the entire scheme to break their siege by force. They would think her untrustworthy ad that was something they could not use. That was what he told himself at least. It was for the best that she didn’t know.

Maybe it was only because the not quite outspoken accusation rang too true that he reacted in the way he did. ‘You weren’t helping,’ he reminded her gruffly. ‘Making nice with elves.’

Apparently now he had gotten under her skin. ‘Making nice with elves, am I?’ she snapped. ‘I’m trying to find allies, you bloody idiot. Seeing as there are a lot of enemies in front of that gate, that struck me as the wise thing to do. Or would you rather I lost all common sense and shouted abuse at them to my heart’s content? I’m sure that would do our chances of survival a lot of good.’ It was biting sarcasm, the one she resorted to when she was angry. It was familiar, all too familiar, but Thorin was too vexed to pay much attention to the pang of hurt when she talked like that.

‘I was unaware that you had to kiss them in order to assure their allegiance,’ he remarked icily.

Kate’s forehead twisted in the most confused frown he had seen in a long while. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘You know full well what I am talking about!’ he bellowed. Maybe it was good that his men had taken themselves off to let them discuss their business in private, because this was rapidly turning into an argument the likes of which he hadn’t had in a long time. Maybe it was the tension, the ever increasing worry about their fates that had brought the anger so close to the surface, taking over so quickly and leaving them at each other’s throat once again. Thorin didn’t know and he didn’t care either. The jealousy was taking over now for real. ‘What is it about Elvaethor that you find so appealing that you would allow him to kiss you in such a manner? Is it because he is closer to your idea of a perfect man? As you said, I was never your type.’

Maybe he had crossed a line somewhere. He knew for sure when Kate did a step back as if he had physically hit her, gasping for air. ‘What on earth are you even talking about? He kissed my hand, nothing else, and it’s not as if he’s never done that before.’ She shook her head as if she was meaning to clear her head of any confusing thoughts. ‘How did Elvaethor come into this conversation anyway? I thought we were discussing you sending ravens to Dáin without me knowing.’

And that was something he decidedly did not want to talk about, even more so because then he would have to admit that he did not truly know why he had deliberately kept her in the dark about his own plans. Kate would read it as him not really trusting her after all. With something of a shock he realised that there was some truth in that, at least now. Could he still trust her to be on his side?

‘You are changing the subject,’ he pointed out through gritted teeth. Her evasion of the subject didn’t do anything at all to put his worries to rest. Did she see something in that elf? Thorin couldn’t imagine that she could, but she had already admitted to having a different idea about beauty than he had. Who was to say what went on inside her head? ‘What is it about him that you like?’

Kate was well and truly riled now. ‘Well, he wasn’t shouting at me for starters,’ she retorted. ‘Good grief, Thorin, what has gotten into you?’

This didn’t help very much either. ‘I’ve always heard that your kind was less loyal than my own. I now see the truth of that.’

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself and he found he was almost as shocked by them as the recipient. Kate had grasped the wall for support, jaw dropped, staring at him in what appeared to be complete shock. Something had changed. Thorin’s intuition had never been very well developed, according to Dís – ‘If we had to rely on your intuition to survive, all of us would have been in the Halls of Waiting by now.’ – but even he could feel it. Something had changed between them. No, it wasn’t just change. It was something breaking. And Thorin wasn’t even sure it could be mended this time.

They’d had arguments before, even fights. Never before though had their words really been meant to wound, to hurt, to destroy, like his had been just now.

Kate was trembling. ‘You bloody idiot!’ The words were often meant as her own form of endearment, but this was different. Now they were biting and cold and at the same time as burning as dragon’s fire. ‘He wasn’t even kissing me. He was whispering something in my ear!’

‘Then why didn’t you say so?’ he demanded.

‘Well, maybe it had something to do with you being so busy jumping to conclusions and shouting abuse at me that I didn’t get a word in!’ She had pushed herself away from the wall and her eyes were blazing. Thorin could almost see the fire simmering in her gaze, almost. She was angry now, more so than he had witnessed in a very long time. There was no coming back from where they were headed now, wherever that may be. ‘He was offering to feed us, you know, if only we would be so kind as to reopen the side door.’

Sometimes he thought she finally got the measure of how things were done, and then he was entirely convinced that she didn’t understand anything at all. ‘And you believed him? He could be smuggling an army in here!’

Kate threw her arms up in the air. ‘First he is courting me, now he’s smuggling an army into the Mountain? This just keeps getting better and better! If you could get your head out of your arse, then maybe you would realise that Elvaethor thus far is the only elf who’s made an effort of helping us!’

‘Helping us?’ Thorin echoed disbelievingly. With the memory of exactly what Elvaethor had done just now, he found it hard to remember possible qualities.

A frustrated growl came from Kate’s throat. ‘For heaven’s sake, Thorin! He helped us to escape Mirkwood, he made sure Erland and Lainor got no chance whatsoever shipping us back off to Thranduil’s charming dungeons and need I remind you that it was his treatment that is the only reason you’re even capable of walking upright at the moment? He even lost his bloody job over this! We owe him _everything_! And, for the record, I am not in love with him. So, put that in your pipe and smoke it!’ She turned around, but not quick enough. Thorin had already caught sight of the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

This time he did feel a pang of something. If he was another kind of dwarf, he would have referred to it as regret. ‘Has it ever crossed your mind that he may be in love with you?’ he shot back, unable to let the matter go. Deep down he didn’t really believe that Kate felt something other than friendship for the former captain of Thranduil’s guard, but he was not so sure about Elvaethor’s motives. He had always played his cards close to his chest; who knew what his motives were? And right from the start he had been hanging around Kate in a manner that set Thorin’s teeth on edge.

Kate’s eyes narrowed when she turned back to face him. ‘Jealousy suits you rather ill,’ she remarked icily. ‘Do try to get over yourself, will you? In the meantime, I’m seeking out some civilised company.’

She turned on her heels and marched off.

‘Where are you going?’ he demanded, angry that she had turned her back on him.

‘To open the side door, seeing as nobody else seems to be doing that. And I do not have the wish to starve to death, thank you very much, so I am going to take what is offered. You may do whatever you like and find out whether or not your stubbornness and pride make for better sustenance than actual food.’

Was she out of her mind? If he was really honest, he did not truly believe that Elvaethor would unleash an army of his kin on the Mountain, not after the lengths he had gone to in making sure that the company actually got here. But he wasn’t about to let her walk into possible danger alone. There was still no knowing what elves would and wouldn’t do and he had made an oath that no harm would come to her.

But Kate had speed, and even though she must know that he was following, she didn’t slow down. She didn’t even look back. Even normally she had the edge on him in speed, being both younger and having longer legs than he had. Now, with one of his still in a broken state, she was a lot faster than he was.

Broken. Something had broken, and it wasn’t just his leg. He regretted his words already. _Never speak in anger, my lad_ , his mother had once advised him. _It’ll do more harm than good._ It was a shame he could only recognise this as sound advice once the damage was already done. Something told him that it may be beyond repair this time. The shouting was nothing new – sometimes he had even the disturbing feeling that both of them even enjoyed it – but the words were. And even though he could not take the sole blame for this, a large part of it he had to take the responsibility for.

Kate knew her way around this part of the Mountain pretty well and she was already pulling at the side door when he caught up to her. She didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Her eyes were red and swollen because of the crying she must have done, but there were no more tears, just the cold fire of her anger.

Actions speak louder than words. It had always been their approach to their relations. Words very rarely came into it. Neither of them had a way with them when it came to speaking about feelings. And so he apologised in the only way that he knew how to; he helped her to pull open the door.

‘Thanks,’ she said when the door had fully opened. But it was a half-hearted thanks at the very best; she avoided his eyes and instead made an intensive study of the embroidery on her sleeves.

‘You are welcome,’ Thorin said. He meant to say more, but the sight that met his eyes made him stop dead in his tracks. On the doorstep, surrounded by baskets filled with food, stood the elf Thorin had so often referred to as the insect.

‘That was quick indeed, Queen Kate,’ he remarked. ‘As you see, I come bearing gifts.’

Thorin didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I don’t know what to make of this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Thorin like this and it frightens me. And it hurts. Good God, it_ hurts _!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvaethor to the rescue! I can’t seem to keep him out of this story for long, it seems. And yes, I know Thorin and Kate are being a bit thick-headed, but stay the pitchforks for a while, please! They’ll sort it out one way or another.  
> Oh, and before I forget: happy new year to you all!  
> Next time: a new arrival and Bilbo is the most mature person under the Mountain. Please review?


	76. Unreliable Allies

_Most of my news in the following weeks came from Elvaethor. Come to think of it, so came all of our food. Without him, we would have starved to death within two weeks. Of course, his helpfulness was not fully appreciated by most of my companions, who accepted Elvaethor’s help only with a lot of wary looks and a lot of grumbling, that didn’t look like gratefulness at all. If anything, it was a small miracle that the elf still came every other day to see how we were doing and to deliver the necessary food. Especially Nori and Thorin seemed to have found common ground in their dislike of Thranduil’s former captain of the guard, albeit for different reasons._

_So it mostly fell to me to welcome Elvaethor and thank him for all his trouble. He was the only source of news we had. Of course we had guards up on the battlements, but we could only guess to what they were doing, and they weren’t exactly doing very much in that camp of theirs, it seemed, not that we could see anyway._

_Elvaethor told me that was only the appearance of things though, and nothing like it really was. Gandalf was doing quite an amazing job on trying to make everyone see sense, a quest that had failed so far, but at least he was trying. Lady Galadriel was apparently trying to be something of a peacemaker herself, having set herself the impossible task of talking some reason into Thranduil. That too seemed to be failing._

_She was however also the one behind the food deliveries. She sent us all kinds of things, and had the good sense not to make it salad only. There was meat as well, which had made her rather popular with the company. She may be the only elf who had ever been granted dwarvish approval, even if her delivery boy was not appreciated._

_Bard in the meanwhile was still lingering about, but he had asked his people to remove their camp a little distance from the main camp, as if to demonstrate his impartiality, and he didn’t interfere with any matters of the siege. Elvaethor said that he was only hanging around to see what was going to happen and I believed it. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to be too far away from the action either, just in case. Thorin didn’t really buy any of it. I can’t even say that I blame him for that. Even I sometimes caught myself wondering what Bard really wanted._

_Not that we actually talked about any of that. If I am being honest, we didn’t do much talking anymore, except for ‘pass the torch/bread/meat’ and meaningless things like that. Something had changed after that fight, and much of it could be put down to the tension about the siege and circumstances in general. It didn’t change the fact that both of us had said things that were unforgiveable, things that we would never be able to take back._

_It had all fallen apart within a single day, something I had never seen coming, but that maybe I should have anticipated. I didn’t. We both were angry with each other. My anger mostly stemmed from him having kept me in the dark about Dáin for twenty-four hours, when normally he would have told me right away, would probably discuss the wisdom of such an idea with me. So when he positively started to question me about my assumed relationship with Elvaethor – I was starting to question his sanity at that point; where on earth did he get that ridiculous idea from? – I was taken completely by surprise. Of course anger followed in its wake, leading us further into the argument that ultimately led to the one comment that shattered everything._

_There had been no talking since and neither of us initiated it, neither wanting to be first to say sorry. And so we kept our silence. Only later did I realise that this silence was not a strength, but only one step closer to disaster…_

 

Kate was starting to lose track of just how many days, how many weeks she had been cooped up in a Mountain that was feeling more and more like a prison these days. Maybe it _was_ a prison. After all, there was no way out. The men and elves were still blocking the way out, still preventing her from going anywhere. She hated to admit it, but she felt like she was only really alive those moments when she went out to collect the food Elvaethor brought her. Erebor was still beautiful, but even though it was beautiful, it was a prison still. It was the very reason that she wanted to get out, wanted to feel the wind in her hair and on her skin, no matter how cold it was.

But that was not all there was to it. Thorin was a much bigger part of her reasoning than anything else and she well knew it. It made her want to scream and kick things – and, in the privacy of the room she had claimed as her own now, had done exactly that – but it didn’t make her feel any better. _I’ve always heard that your kind was less loyal than my own. I now see the truth of that._ The words kept going round and round in her head, but she still couldn’t make any sense of them. Why? What had brought him to say such a thing? She had done nothing that she was ashamed of, nothing she should be ashamed of. Elvaethor had been trying to help them, for heaven’s sake! He had just been his annoying self again and there was nothing new about that.

Still, Thorin had read something into it that she had not seen coming, not at all. And before her brain had even caught up with his tirade, he had already accused her of cheating on him with Elvaethor. The notion of it was so ridiculous that it was all she could do not to laugh hysterically. Really, she and Elvaethor? There was friendship there, if that, but nothing more.

She had heard of dwarves and their jealousy, but she had never suspected it would be so strong in Thorin. And then the things he had said, they stung. _What is it about Elvaethor that you find so appealing that you would allow him to kiss you in such a manner? Is it because he is closer to your idea of a perfect man? As you said, I was never your type_. Had he really such a low opinion of her that he would think she would abandon him when she came upon someone whose appearance was more pleasing to the eye? Did he really think she was that shallow? It was rather difficult to believe.

Her own thoughts weren’t helping, mostly because they were so annoyingly rational. She understood perfectly why Thorin was acting as he did. In the night after the Fight she had been lying awake, sandwiched once again between Nori and Ori – who fortunately hadn’t asked any questions – and she had mulled it all over. The siege played a role, as did Thorin’s own frustrations over his health and the accumulated tension of being able to do almost nothing at all, except sitting around all day.

The most prominent thing however was the thing he didn’t speak about, the abandonment. It was something she had noticed a few times before, Thorin’s almost obsession with the fear of people leaving him. Good grief, he had made her swear an oath that she wouldn’t go anywhere and she supposed that one still held true. This quest was not yet finished entirely. There was still work left to be done and she still had to stand watch over Thorin’s mental health.

There did not seem to be much guarding she needed to do though. She wouldn’t go as far as to say that he was being perfectly rational these days, but he wasn’t acting like a madman either. He was just very afraid of people leaving and of people entering who had no right to be there.

She had been pacing the room restlessly, but she came to an abrupt halt when it finally dawned on her. Thorin wasn’t gold mad – the combination of previous awareness, the Arkenstone already in his possession and having had a hand in slaying the dragon himself must mean he was not as vulnerable to it as he had been in the book – but he was sliding dangerously close to paranoia.

She walked to the window that looked out over the southeast part of the Mountain, one of the few places in this Mountain that even had a window. The fresh air coming in through it did little in clearing her mind; it was too caught up in what she had only just realised. A different kind of madness. This had nothing to do with gold and treasure, but with something that was far less easily noticeable. But if this was allowed to continue, it would be worse. It would be bad.

‘Shit,’ she muttered. How had she not noticed this before? Well, that at least was a question that was easily answered. She had been avoiding Thorin. Because even though she had promised to stand guard over Thorin’s health, she had not exactly been doing that. Yes, she knew that the things he’d said to her were explainable, but it didn’t change anything about her feeling of hurt. The things he had said to her _hurt_ , hurt so badly that she couldn’t even stand to be near him. There was anger too, and that was of course the emotion she had put on display. Anger was so easy and, in this case, also a mask for emotions she didn’t want any of her companions to see. She would not be seen crying. She had some pride left.

‘What a bloody mess.’ And here she was thinking her parents had made a mess of things. As it turned out, failing at relationships as clearly hereditary. Now there was a charming prospect.  

‘It is.’

Kate swivelled around when she realised she was no longer alone. ‘Bilbo!’ The hobbit had kept to the background, opting on observing rather than interfering, but she could tell he didn’t think constantly shut up in a Mountain was a very agreeable way to live either. He had been restless, like her, distancing himself from the company on many an occasion. Not that she blamed him for that; the mood was not exactly cheerful lately. If anything, it was anything but cheerful.

‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ the hobbit apologised, then shivered. ‘It’s cold here.’

It was. This was not really her room; they all slept in one room to spare out the little firewood they had. She just used it during the day to have a place where she wasn’t constantly surrounded by people and she had a chance to think. It was cold though, because they had not enough wood to warm two rooms. As it was, all the furniture would probably have to be remade once the Mountain was once again inhabited, since they had burned most of it. They needed to, if they wanted to stay alive, and firewood was one of the things Elvaethor did not have readily available to them.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘How are you holding up? Really?’ She regarded the hobbit as something of a friend, but she was not very good at the whole socialising thing at all and it appeared that Bilbo did not excel at it either. It was more bonding over both being outsiders in this siege that made them talk to one another.

‘I miss home,’ the hobbit confessed.

‘So do I,’ Kate replied ruefully, before realising that was not a thought she should have put into the spoken word. But it was the truth. As the days turned into weeks and the last feelings of triumph over the death of Smaug died down, so did the cheer and the songs at the campfire. Thorin’s constant foul mood didn’t help things along either, and the same was true for the elves and men still camping out there. Kate reckoned they would have had their buttocks frozen off by now, but they’d had no such luck.

Her thoughts kept wandering back to home, her family, and she felt guilty over doing that. For goodness sake, Thorin had proposed to her and she had told him that she would stay. That was her choice and she’d stand by it. Only, Thorin wasn’t treating her like he did before. In fact, he was mostly ignoring her. True, he was ignoring everyone these days, apart from Balin and Dwalin. Instead he just stood, brooding over things Kate could only guess at. And she wished for home, for family and friends.

What had she even been thinking? That she could make this relationship work, even across so many divides that she would rather not be bothered to count them? They came from different worlds, belonged to different races, and clearly their characters were not as compatible as she had led herself to believe. It was a disaster these days. Could she really marry someone who seemed to have rapidly fallen out of love with her? That thought hurt too, stung like a knife that was stabbed into her heart and twisted there, over and over again.

She was mostly growing tired of her own thoughts. The not knowing what was going on in Thorin’s head, not knowing even what was going on inside her own, the tense atmosphere caused by the siege, it made her tired, bone-weary. She just wanted out, in whatever way possible. Even, she realised, if that meant going back to her own world, where she belonged, where life made sense. Life in Erebor had stopped making sense to her around the same time Thorin had accused her of being in love with Elvaethor.

‘But you could go home,’ she pointed out quickly, to distract both of them from her little slip up. ‘You have done all that you were asked to do, and more. Elvaethor could take you back to Gandalf, and he could bring you home. Nothing is keeping you here anymore, yes?’

At least he had the option to go back home. Kate herself didn’t have any choice. Lately it seemed like she didn’t have a choice in anything anymore. She was aware that she was feeling very sorry for herself and that it was unbecoming. Normally Jacko was the one who pouted. She was the one who shouted and made a scene. She wasn’t making a scene now. She was too tired for it, couldn’t conjure up the necessary energy anymore. The only thing she wanted now was for it all to end. Now.

‘Well, I can’t just run, can I?’ Bilbo said. ‘I couldn’t abandon all of you.’

‘Are you telling me you’ve grown fond of us after all?’ Kate put a few of her last reserves of energy into trying to joke. She had a distinct feeling the operative word was indeed _trying_.

Bilbo went with it though. ‘We went through a lot,’ he shrugged, trying to make it seem unimportant, which it wasn’t. ‘And something about it is just wrong. It doesn’t feel like it is as the book tells it at all. Not with Lord Erland and…’

‘Thranduil and all the rest,’ Kate nodded wearily. ‘You’re right. It’s nothing like the book.’ Well, it was. That was the frightening thing. Most of the events followed the book so precisely that it made her skin crawl and set her teeth on edge. But the underlying motives were all different and that was what really mattered. Thorin wasn’t greedy, the people of Lake-town didn’t have any right to more treasure than they were offered, and the elves had a right to nothing at all, except perhaps to a kick in the behind and a one-way ticket back home. It were these things that made it all so confusing.

And then, she had never been meant to be here. How much had she changed by simply being here? The dragon had been slain by the company and the people now assembled in front of that Mountain did not have the right to be there, but they were there nonetheless. Thanks to her changed route, Bifur was dead, but then, so was Azog. They wouldn’t have encountered him on the elf path. Thorin hadn’t lost his mind to gold madness because she had warned him, but now he was sliding towards paranoia because he had seen her with Elvaethor and believed her to be in love with that ridiculous elf.

 _I’m the pebble Gandalf tossed into the pond_ , she realised. _And I am causing ripples all over_. Kate didn’t know how much of this had been really intended, what he had meant for her to change and what not, but it was beyond either of their control now. They were just left with the mess and Kate felt like she was drowning in a tsunami her own pebble had caused. Never had she believed that this could be such a mess, that she herself could be such a mess. But that was the truth of it apparently. _And all because I couldn’t keep control of my own heart_.

‘It’s not,’ Bilbo said, agreeing with her last spoken words and surely not with her last conscious thought.

Kate forced herself to get back on track. Wallowing had never been known to do anyone any good and she was hardly going to be the exception. ‘It’s changed, thanks to Gandalf’s spectacular inability not to meddle with things. And my own inability not to do the exact same thing,’ she added bitterly. She didn’t really resent Gandalf anymore, not really; she was just looking for someone to blame that wasn’t her.

‘You should talk to Thorin,’ the hobbit said. He had that look on his face that she recognised from herself. It was the look of one who knew that his words were bound to be met with fierce resistance, but who went ahead anyway, in spite of the consequences. ‘You work better as a team, and you’re both a good deal more cheerful to be around.’ Suddenly it was all too clear that Bilbo was in fact the most mature person in the room. He had come a long way from the gentle hobbit who didn’t want to leave his home and seven meals a day behind. Now he was showing his real age. Kate felt too much like a rebellious teenager given a talking to by the responsible adult and she was too surprised to form a coherent sentence, which was probably the very thing Bilbo had been aiming for, since he went on. ‘No, listen to me. I don’t know what happened between the two of you and I don’t want to know, but you need to work this out. There’s enough enemies out there to fight, without the two of you being at each other’s throat as well.’

‘We’re not at each other’s throat,’ Kate objected feebly, since she couldn’t quite bring herself to say that none of this was in fact any of Bilbo’s business.

‘You are ignoring one another,’ Bilbo pointed out. ‘Because you fought.’

 _If we are doomed to fight, let us at least fight against a common foe, not each other_. Her own words to Thorin sprang to mind. It was what she had said the day the alliance of elves and men had descended on them like vultures on a carcass. And there was wisdom in her words. _I wonder what that says about me, that I can’t even manage to follow my own advice._

‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’ Normally she would have snapped, told him to keep his nose well out of this dreadful business, but she was so tired. Tired and dangerously close to tears. Whether from exhaustion, frustration or plain old hurt, she wasn’t sure. Kate wasn’t even sure she wanted to know.

‘Then fix it,’ Bilbo said. ‘Between the two of you, you must be able to come up with something to get us out of this Mountain.’ _I wonder if your solution would be as Dáin-shaped as ours_ , Kate thought. ‘But you won’t come up with something as long as you’re behaving like sulking tweens.’

Kate thought about pointing out that she was one according to his Shire standards. That was hardly going to do her any good. But neither was she in the mood to continue this conversation. ‘I know you mean well,’ she told him, transforming the very last of her energy into an attempt to be polite and diplomatic. ‘But we need to work this out on our own.’ She wasn’t sure how successful she was at being polite. Probably none too good.

Bilbo at least understood the dismissal she directed at him and she was grateful for small mercies, because she didn’t know how long she could hold up. She didn’t know what was the last straw. Maybe the accumulated weight of the umpteenth day without progress, the empty stare from Thorin that swept over her as if she wasn’t even there that morning or Bilbo telling her that she should fix it, even when that particular act would take two, just like it took two to argue.

And she was not going be the first one to back down and admit that she was wrong. She had her pride and she had worn it like a cloak these past few weeks. _Your pride will be your downfall_ , Gandalf had told Thorin in Rivendell, but wasn’t that true for her as well? It was one of her bad habits. She could apologise when she really felt she was wrong, but she didn’t feel that now. The blame came in equal measures and as long as Thorin was not prepared to admit that, then, well, neither was she. And they were tearing each other to pieces by doing it.

It was too familiar, too. She remembered fights like this, but they had not been fought with her boyfriends. The only comparison she had for this was her own father and the endless memories of fighting with him, trying to stop him from running out on her and her mother and brother, accusing him and calling him every foul name in the book when it didn’t stop him from going. She remembered the long periods of ignoring him only too well, too. This was far too similar.

That did it, she supposed. That really was the final straw. No sooner had the door fallen shut behind the hobbit that she buckled under her own weight, grasping the marble table next to the window to keep herself from collapsing altogether. The force of her own sobbing blocked out any conscious thought she might have felt and she liked it better that way; lately it were mostly her own thoughts that were depressing her and driving her crazy.

And it felt good to let it all out, even if it was when she was all alone, in the privacy of a room that was feeling ever more arctic the more time she spent in it, with no one to console her. _God, I wish I was home_. If she was safely at home, none of this would have happened. She would be safe, her heart wouldn’t feel as if it could break at any given moment, and she wouldn’t have to fight for her very survival either. Home suddenly sounded like such a welcome prospect. It was also the one place she couldn’t be.

Time ceased to mean anything. She was too caught up to care about it, or care about people hearing her. It just hurt too much. Everything hurt and she was so bloody tired too _. Let it end. Just let it end. In whatever way._ She could not even bring herself to care about that anymore if only this could be over.

She only became aware of her surroundings when an arm was wrapped around her and she was pulled into an embrace. It was difficult to see through the haze of tears, but she would recognise that hairdo anywhere. That was Dori’s. The only thing wrong with this was that Dori never did such a thing as consoling his siblings. He fussed over them, aye, he argued with them until all parties involved were quite hoarse from all the shouting and he would die a thousand deaths to protect them from harm, but he usually didn’t console them. But then, how was she really to know what he would and wouldn’t do? She knew him for less than a year and most of it had been spent on the road. A considerable chunk of the time they had not even liked one another. Just like Thorin and her.

That made her break down all over again. Dori just pulled her against him and let her spill a sea of tears on his coat. And this did work, the physical contact with another living being, someone who thought it his duty to be stronger and wiser than her for a change, someone who didn’t expect miracles from her. She was vaguely aware that he was muttering, both Khuzdul and the Common Tongue, in a soothing, lulling kind of voice that almost forced her to slow her breathing and calm down until all the fight had gone out of her and only the fatigue remained.

‘It will be all right, Kate,’ Dori said, still stroking her hair, as he had been doing for the past five minutes.

‘I just want to be home,’ she moaned against his coat. With her mental guards at an all-time low, her dearest wish just came out of her mouth unchecked. The most alarming thing about it was that she could not even regret her words. They were too true. At that moment she could not really see beyond her pain, beyond the gap that seemed to have opened up between Thorin and her. _We were fools for thinking we could make this work._

‘We will find a way,’ Dori said softly. ‘We will find a way.’

 _You should talk to Thorin. You work better as a team, and you’re both a good deal more cheerful to be around._ Bilbo’s words echoed in her head. He was right, she realised. He certainly was right about the level of cheerfulness, and possibly about the other thing as well. They did work better as a team. They had gotten the company this far. It was only when they stopped talking to one another that it all started to fall apart.

Maybe it took Dori giving in to her to make her realise that this was not like her, that this was the weariness talking and not her. She was a fighter, wasn’t she? That was what she was good at. Was she now going to take the easy way out, just because of tension and a considerable number of sleepless nights? And she remembered a vow she had made at age fifteen, when it was obvious that her father really would not come back, that he really had left them for good. _If I ever find someone, I’ll fight for my relationship. I won’t let it fall apart like my parents’ marriage._ She honoured her vows, didn’t she? _Give it one more chance, and for heaven’s sake, pull yourself together. You’re not a snivelling girl anymore._

She made to say that to Dori, but she was still in the process of unsuccessfully wriggling her way out of his bearlike hug, when she heard footsteps and someone entered the room without bothering to knock.

At least it helped in letting Dori release her so that she could turn and sit on her own. She knew instantly that her eyes, swollen red, would give her away, but Thorin didn’t have the monopoly on the ice stare anymore. Hopefully that would persuade the intruder that it would be far better not to make any mention of the fact.

Not that kind and gentle Ori would ever make mention of such a thing, she noted wryly, when he turned out to be the one to come in, excitement written all over his face.  He was so excited that he seemed entirely oblivious as to what he was walking in on. ‘Come quickly!’ he said breathlessly. ‘It’s Dáin! He’s come!’

 

***

 

Thorin sighed a breath of relief when he heard Fíli’s report that an army of dwarves was approaching from the east. Thorin had known for nigh on two weeks now that Dáin was indeed on the move, but his kinsman had arrived quicker than he had dared to hope. And it was about time too. Kate’s dubious “friend” had kept them well fed, but that was not a victory and Thorin strongly disliked the idea of being in the debt of any elf, but even more so that elusive Elvaethor with his unhealthy interest in the company advisor.

And he wasn’t even sure Kate disliked his courting, because that was what it looked like to Thorin’s eyes. She was the only one even wanting to go to the side door to welcome the red-haired elf and accept the provisions he brought them. Often she stayed up too long and once, when he had silently followed her, he heard her laughter bouncing off the walls, and that had told him all he needed to know about her affections for Elvaethor. There was the chance that she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend, but he didn’t trust the elf to be feeling only friendship. As far as Thorin was aware, he had an awful lot more than friendship on his mind, hence the kiss.

That, and Kate’s continued claims to the contrary, had made him keep his distance. He’d thought that she was different from the others of her race, having stuck with him in situations when most others would have backed out, but when it all came down to it, when things really got hard, she left. Well, she hadn’t left physically, but she had gone out of her way to keep her distance from him and once the siege was broken, he had no doubt that her removal from his presence would become physical as well. And so he had in turn kept his distance from her. It hurt too much, although he would never admit to that out loud. He would not be seen as weaker than he already was.

Dáin’s arrival was a relief though. That would make the odds a little more in their favour. Bard and his followers were out of the conflict and out of the camp, and the remaining men and their elvish allies had not anticipated an army of dwarves, and their numbers were not so many as could have been. Dáin’s army was enough to give anyone in their senses pause.

He had taken himself to the battlements, from where he could observe the proceedings in the camp. It was clear that some of the dwarves had been asked to negotiate and announce their purpose before the Mountain. This could be the one thing they needed to end the siege and make it safe for his people to return. Dáin had abandoned him before, when he first announced his intention to reclaim Erebor from a dragon, and Thorin would treat him as an unreliable ally, but after weeks of being cooped up – or maybe _locked in_ was the better way of describing his current predicament – in the Mountain, he would take whatever help was offered. He could not afford to be picky in his allies, not until the kingdom was truly restored.

‘He’s here then?’ The voice speaking those words belonged to the company advisor. He turned around just in time to see her march over to him. Her face wore an expression he knew well. It was a determination, the kind of determination that always was on her face when she was bracing herself for resistance. Considering what they had gone through lately, that was very likely. They were back to the situation pre-Rivendell, and they had done a lot of fighting then. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to see her. But she was still the advisor, and she was widely believed to be his queen. She had a right to be here. And keeping her out would be more trouble than it was worth.

‘He is,’ he replied curtly.

Kate’s eyes narrowed. ‘We need to talk. Now. Alone.’

‘Miss Andrews, I don’t think…’

For a moment she did a step back in what appeared to be shock, but then the frown only deepened. ‘Back to Miss Andrews now, are we, Mr Oakenshield?’ she retorted. ‘Now, Thorin. We’ve been delaying this long enough and I don’t think it will do our cause any good when it looks as if we’d like ripping each other’s throat out just as well as ripping out theirs.’ The anger subsided somewhat to make way for a look he might, with some imagination, refer to as pleading.

There was a sense of urgency that made him nod and practically stare the others away. It was clear by the look on Dori’s face that he didn’t like it. It must be because Kate had told him to stay out of this that he had not spoken up yet, but it was clear from the positively murderous look on his face that he desperately wanted to say something rather rude, and wanted to do some things that might get him arrested for regicide.

Thorin himself had no wish to speak to Kate. He felt betrayed and he didn’t have a stomach for betrayal, especially not this kind. The betrayal of the heart always hurt the worst and he found that it was a stabbing, never dulling kind of pain. Interacting with her might only make things worse.

‘What is it?’ he demanded of her once the others had cleared out. Best to get this over with as soon as possible.

Kate pulled her cloak around her tightly against the icy wind. ‘You need to ask?’ she asked. ‘I’d have thought it would be obvious.’

‘We do not have the time for this now,’ he informed her. ‘Dáin has arrived.’

He should have known by now that Kate would never back off so easily. She was nothing if not stubborn. She may not be born a dwarf, but she had the stubbornness of one and she was putting that trait on full display now. ‘So I am told,’ she said dismissively. ‘And that is exactly the reason we do need to talk. We can’t go on like this. We’re tearing each other to pieces and it’s not good. Trust me on that; I’ve seen it before.’

Now she had his attention. ‘When have you seen us do this before, if I may be so bold to ask?’ He had no recollection of any such a thing.

The advisor shook her head. ‘Not us. My parents.’

That came as a surprise. She had mentioned her mother and brother on several occasions, but she never talked about her father, or her parents together. Thorin gathered it was a painful thing to speak of, as his own father’s mysterious disappearance was for him, and so he had never asked. Now that she began to speak of it so boldly, and of her own volition, in relation to their own situation, he found himself temporarily stunned.

Kate used the opportunity this gave her to go on. ‘It’s different too. My father used to cheat on my mother, a lot, possibly with multiple women, although I never actually found out the truth about it. What I do know is that he is married to another now, and has at least one child with his new wife. Anyway, my mother knew very well what he did, that he deceived her, cheated on her and in the end she kicked him out, as he only deserved.’ Anger turned her voice harsh and bitter.

As shocking as this was to hear, Thorin didn’t see the relevance of this tale for their own situation, and said so.

This only earned him one of Kate Andrews’s famous glares. ‘Do you really think,’ she began, voice dangerously low. When he talked in that manner, he was angry, very angry. ‘Do you really think that I would do the very same thing that broke up my parents’ marriage and caused me nothing but pain? Because if you think that, then I am not quite sure what to make of your intelligence, or rather lack thereof.’

_What is it about him that you like?_

_Well, he wasn’t shouting at me for starters_.

He remembered that conversation, if it could be called that, only too well. Back then it had sounded as if she was defending Elvaethor, as if she all but confirming that she indeed loved him over Thorin. This recent conversation did put things in a slightly different light. This made it sound more as if it would be the last thing she would ever do, which would make her words then nothing more than words spoken in anger, in harsh, biting sarcasm.

Could it be that not all was as he believed it to be? Was there still a chance that the two of them had a chance and that this was nothing more than one of their fights?

 _Still doomed to fight to the end of our days then_ , Kate had remarked on the day their enemies had come to the Mountain, demanding unreasonable things. Was that who they were meant to be?

 _If we are doomed to fight, let us at least fight against a common foe, not each other_. That was what they had agreed on then as well. And he wanted to. It was not a pleasant feeling to find someone and lose them within so short a time. He had been left by too many people in his life and the pain of it became never any less. Somehow it only ever seemed to increase, to leave a hole in his heart each time. Truth was, he wanted things to go back to how they were before they entered the Mountain, before the dragon fell on his legs and before they started keeping secrets from one another. Their life had been uncertain then and he certainly would not describe it as happy or particularly good, but it was better faced with a companion.

But could he trust her entirely? He knew what she had said, and how passionate she had been about it, but he could still hear her careless laughter bouncing off the walls of the tunnel that led up to the side door and he had hardly ever heard her laugh like that in his presence. Elvaethor had something of her, touched something of her, that he had not been granted access to. Maybe dwarves were indeed a jealous race, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have very good reasons to be so and Thorin believed that he indeed had.

‘He makes you laugh.’ The words slipped out without his permission.

 _He_ apparently didn’t have to be specified any further; Kate knew of whom he was talking. ‘Yes, he does,’ Kate admitted, taking him by surprise yet again. He had expected her to deny it. ‘He makes me laugh because he reminds me of some of my friends back in my world at times. I knew some guys there I counted as friends, in the same way as I count Kíli, Fíli and  Bofur as friends. We used to hang out, go for a drink, chat and laugh. That’s what friends are for, you know. Elvaethor… I think he could be such a friend someday. I still don’t always get the measure of him, but I am pretty sure his intentions are good. If he wanted us gone, or dead, he’s had more than enough opportunity to do it by now.’

It was not what he wanted to hear from her and so he kept his silence.

Fortunately Kate knew how to read his silences by now. ‘I am not in love with him,’ she said brusquely. ‘And I don’t think he’s in love with me either. All that hand kissing is just Elvaethor being Elvaethor. It’s what he does. He’s an elf. He’s bound to be a tad bit weird.’

He wasn’t convinced that she was right about the elf. He believed her when she spoke of her own feelings, or he wanted to believe it at least, but elves were hard to read and Kate had less experience with them than Thorin had. He knew only too well how unpredictable they could be and Elvaethor was still with Thranduil’s retinue. If that was not enough reason to be overly cautious, then he didn’t know what was.

Kate misinterpreted his silence. ‘For heaven’s sake, Thorin, do you really need me to say it? I love you. There, I’ve said it. I love you. Full stop. Do me a favour and remember it for future reference. It might make both our lives a whole lot simpler. I’m not going to walk out on you.’ The determination and defiance on her face increased in tenfold. ‘I am _not_ my father. And if it’s true that I am doomed to fight for the rest for my life, then fighting for my relationship sounds like a very worthy cause to me.’

And he was not his father either. Thorin’s memories of him became ever vaguer as time passed, but the thing he remembered most about him was that he left, crazed with grief. He had let his grief get the upper hand and had left his two remaining children on their own, to mourn a brother, a father and a grandfather after that horrible battle. Long months ago Gandalf had told him as much, that he was not his father, and although the wizard had not meant it in exactly this way, he had a very good point. He was not Thráin. He may be his father’s son in some ways, but he was also his mother’s, and he was his own person. He didn’t leave. He had for asked loyalty, honour and a willing heart. Kate had offered all three to him just now, even though she may not have known that she did. Who was he to ask of others what he was not prepared to offer them in return?

And the truth was, he didn’t want her to leave. These past few weeks had been hard. He had felt some of the lure of the gold, but he had managed to keep it at bay, almost too easily actually. Maybe it was because he had been aware of it before, and had managed to mentally arm himself against it. And he had been too preoccupied with the siege to pay it much mind. He had only stopped to take measures to ensure that Nori didn’t get anywhere near the treasury, but that was only to make sure that he didn’t run off with things that didn’t belong to him, as he was used to doing. But most of his mind had been trained on keeping his company alive, keeping the elves out and hoping that Dáin would show up already, since he was rather taking his sweet time in coming.

‘I am not my father either,’ he agreed. ‘I will not leave.’

The quickest of smiles graced Kate’s face. If he had blinked, he would have missed it. ‘I suppose you would find it difficult to do that anyway,’ she remarked with a pointed look at their enemies’ camp. ‘They’re rather in our way.’

‘I know,’ Thorin said. They had been giving him headaches for quite some time now.

‘And it wasn’t that kind of leaving I was afraid of anyway,’ Kate admitted. She tapped the side of his head gently. The touch was so fleeting that he almost didn’t feel it. ‘You were leaving there.’ Another wry smile. ‘And so was I. Turns out we’ve both been a pair of bloody fools.’

He took a leaf from her book. ‘Catherine Andrews, admitting she has been wrong? What has the world come to?’ Maybe he was taking things too far too soon, but it was a risk he deemed well worth taking.

And he was rewarded for it with laughter, happy laughter, the likes of which he had heard when she had been with Elvaethor. He wondered if he could also hear the relief in it, or if that was just something he read into it. ‘Stop stealing my lines,’ she reprimanded him. ‘You even sound like me, for heaven’s sake.’ She smacked the back of his head. Thorin supposed she had meant for it to have some force behind it, but he barely even felt it. ‘Yes, we’ve both been bloody fools, the pair of us. And we shouldn’t have been. I should have been clearer about Elvaethor and the very non-existent relationship you perceived there to be, and you shouldn’t have kept me in the dark about Dáin.’ Her eyes almost challenged him to disagree.

But he was disinclined to disagree. ‘You are right,’ he told her.

Now Kate arched her eyebrows. ‘Thorin Oakenshield, are you actually admitting that I am right for a change? I never thought I’d live to see the day.’

‘If we are doomed to fight, let us at least fight against a common foe, not each other,’ he reminded her.

‘My words again,’ she observed, but she controlled her mirth. ‘But that is what we should do, especially now.’ There was another fleeting smile. ‘And to think that Bilbo was the one to tell me we should quit ignoring each other,’ she muttered. It quickly turned to trembling and Thorin drew her against him. He was allowed to do that again, he reckoned.

‘The hobbit?’ he asked, incredulous.

Kate nodded. ‘Aye, the hobbit. I think his exact phrasing was that we worked better as a team and that we were a good deal more cheerful to be around when we’re not behaving as we have done lately.’ She shook her head. ‘And then to think that after all my social worker attempts, our burglar turns out to be the one best suited for the job. Who’d have thought?’

For them, things were almost back to how they used to be, but not completely. ‘Where will you be sleeping tonight?’

Kate smiled that knowing smile. She knew what he was talking about. Talking about feelings had never been his strong point, and it wasn’t hers either, but words weren’t always needed. He had never really needed to spell things out to her. ‘I think I’m relocating,’ she said casually. ‘Nori’s snoring is bearable only for so long, you know. That spot next to yours still vacant?’

The corners of his mouth were curling up almost of their own volition. ‘I believe so.’

‘Consider it taken,’ Kate said. ‘Are we good again?’ A little anxiety found its way into her voice.

‘We are,’ Thorin confirmed. No doubt an elf such as Elvaethor would have been more eloquent, would have found pretty words and gentle gestures to convey the same message, and he wondered if he had been too brusque.

If he had been, Kate didn’t show it. She just smiled. ‘Well, that’s a relief, since I don’t think we’re good when it comes to our uninvited guests.’ She pointed at the messenger that was approaching the gate, shooting very nervous glances at the dead dragon that was still lying there, staring. Dwalin had been very clever and cunning in leaving it there in that particular position.

Thorin didn’t recognise the elf. It was a relief that it was at least not Elvaethor, and even Thranduil would know better than to send Galas or Lainor if he didn’t want them back with an arrow pierced through their necks. He found he could no longer stand the sight of either of them.

‘What brings you before the gates of Erebor?’ he demanded.

‘My master, Thranduil of Mirkwood, and his ally, Lord Erland of Esgaroth, ask of you to parley with them today.’

‘They have gotten nervous,’ Kate observed softly. ‘Very nervous, or they wouldn’t ask for a parley today already.’

Thorin agreed. That was likely the truth of it. Everyone knew that dwarves were warriors to be reckoned with, and an entire army of them having showed up must make their foes feel, as Kate described it, positively jumpy. And it was the chance he had been waiting for, hoping for. There needn’t be a fight. They may still come out of this with negotiations only, now that they too had the threat of force behind them.

‘You can tell your masters that we will be present if he will guarantee our safety,’ Thorin told the elf.

Aforementioned elf smiled slyly. ‘My master and Lord Erland predicted that you would ask this and they willingly and freely give such a reassurance.’

‘Yes, or Dáin will have their hides,’ Kate muttered. ‘If he thinks we’re that stupid, he’s stupider than I thought.’

Thorin concurred, secretly relishing in the familiarity of dealing with serious matters with Kate there to lighten the load and provide him with the occasional sarcastic commentary. It made it all so much more bearable. Maybe the hobbit was more observant than Thorin had given him credit for. They did work better as a team, and he felt more cheerful already, although that had something to do with the changed circumstances as well.

‘You may tell your masters that we will be there,’ Thorin informed the elvish messenger.

He exchanged a glance with Kate and saw that she was smiling. ‘Looks like we’re back in the game,’ she commented.

That summed it up to perfection, in every sense.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I do hope that was the last of it, and that we really can go back to normal now._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we’ll meet Dáin, and Lady Galadriel is on to something. In the meantime, for those of you who missed it, I uploaded a chapter of Duly Noted last Wednesday.  
> Please review? As always, I’d like to hear what you thought about this chapter.


	77. Ironfoot and Iron Heads

_We really thought that we had fixed it then, my dears, we really thought so. Unfortunately maintaining a relationship is not all that simple. In my opinion it is often a lot more work than dealing with obnoxious men and recalcitrant elves and, believe me, that is very hard work already. And I don’t think neither of us had ever been told that keeping a relationship going might even be harder than getting to a relationship in the first place._

_And we had gotten a taste of just how difficult things could be. After all, getting together had been nothing short of an achievement already. But that was only just the start of it and of course we had absolutely no idea what still was ahead. Both of us were naïve enough – oh, and how your father will hate to be called naïve, even by me – to think that with that one fight everything had been laid on the table and we would live happily ever after, provided we could get rid of our uninvited guests, of course._

_Oh, how wrong were we! Maybe we had solved things temporarily, but had we really been doing something about the underlying issues that had caused the fight in the first place? Personally I don’t think we had. There was still so much left to discuss and maybe that is only logical. I suppose that because we must be the most unconventional couple in the history of Middle Earth, we had to fight twice as hard for our relationship as an ordinary couple. There were not only all the judgements and prejudices from outsiders to contend with, but we had such different backgrounds – being from different worlds, belonging to different races, to name some – that I consider it a major miracle that we even ended up together and, more importantly, remained together to this very day._

_But you only know the happy ending. We never told you the entire story. Maybe it is not fair to you, but I do think and hope that we can be forgiven for sparing you the darker parts. You weren’t ready to hear those when we told our adventures to you as bedtime stories. I think you may have heard some of the rumours about what happened – some memories are very long indeed – but somehow you have never asked us about it. Well, my dear ones, I promised you honesty, and that is what we shall give you. But, unlike us at the time, you have the benefit of knowing how it all ended._

_But neither of us were thinking of everything that could still go wrong at the time. Well, we were mentally working our way through quite an impressive number of worst case scenarios, but they were related to the upcoming negotiations, and not to the upcoming problems in our own relationship._

_I went through the circus again. That was what I had secretly dubbed the whole beauty routine Dori inflicted on me when I had gone to negotiate before. He had reinvented a couple of other dresses – he had to do something with all that time on his hands – and now put me in one of those, before he began pulling my hair again, which he called combing it. Fortunately this time, your father was in the circus with me. He no longer needed a cane and had declared himself fully healed, despite Óin’s arguments to the contrary. He still had a slight limp, but it was one of the kind that can be concealed without great difficulty. That also meant that he had to look like a king, now that he was back in his own kingdom. I can’t say he bore the treatment any better than I did, somewhat to my amusement._

_Of course there was little to laugh when we eventually went to meet with the delegates that had assembled in the big white tent again…_

 

Thorin was only too glad when Balin took a step back and declared himself satisfied. This, this whole dressing up for a meeting, was something he remembered only from a long time ago, from before the Mountain fell and there had been some important meetings that he had to attend. Usually it had been his mother who had claimed the privilege of getting him presentable and ready. The thing he had forgotten was that all this making him look presentable usually put him in a right foul mood as well. He suddenly had a newfound sympathy for Kate’s impatience with Dori. He had never liked any of this part of the job either.

He was finished sooner than Kate. At any rate he was earlier at the gates, which suggested that Kate was still enduring Dori’s treatment. That at least gave him the time to get the guard together. Dwalin was an immediate choice; he was reliable and an able fighter. He briefly considered Dori, but reasoned that might do Kate’s nerves more harm than good. Nori was an option as well, but in that case Lord Erland and Thranduil would not even need to be searching for an excuse to start a war; Nori would give them one on a silver platter by relieving them of their valuables. He ruled out both Fíli and Kíli as well. If their foes would break their word, they would at least not have all of his kin. So in the end his choice fell on Bofur. He could be a good fighter and he could get along reasonably well with Dwalin. And everyone always thought him nice and sociable. That was something good as well, since no one else was likely to be.

‘You all ready to go then?’ Kate’s voice called his attention to her as she entered the hall, marching over to him with her skirts picked up a little too highly. ‘Looks like you didn’t quite escape the beauty treatment,’ she remarked. ‘Don’t let it get to your head, but you look rather dashing.’

He would have complimented her on her appearance as well, but it seemed he had lost his tongue a few minutes ago and now all he could do was stare. Dori had certainly not been idle. He had put Kate in a green dress and had done her hair up in some elaborate, but elegant hairdo, with a diadem braided into it. To top it off, she was wearing a necklace with an emerald in it, the colour of which perfectly matched her dress.

‘I know, I look ridiculous,’ she pre-empted the comment he had no intention of making. ‘Dori was unstoppable. It seems he doesn’t remember what the word no means.’

‘I don’t think he ever knew what it meant,’ Nori commented cheerfully, winking at his older brother, who had followed them into the hall.

‘Said the pot about the kettle,’ Kate retorted. ‘It’s not as if it has ever stopped you.’

Nori’s grin only widened. ‘What was that you said about pots and kettles again?’

Kate nudged him in the ribs and grimaced when she only appeared to be hurting herself with that. ‘I don’t go stealing,’ she pointed out. She twisted the chain of the necklace between her fingers, drawing Thorin’s undivided attention to the piece of jewellery.

‘Did he…?’ he began.

Kate finished before he could finish his question. ‘Rob the treasury again?’ she supplied. ‘Of course he did. He’s been stealing his own share of the treasure over the last couple of weeks. Then he decided that, as a peace offering, he would make a gift of the thing he couldn’t wear himself to me.’

Thorin wasn’t really surprised. This was Nori they were talking about and this was how Nori operated. It was no secret, but it was one of the reasons why Thorin would never be able to fully trust him, or trust him to have his back. He had a lingering suspicion Kate’s brother was more likely to steal the shirt off his back than he was to keep enemies off it. ‘If I catch you doing such a thing again, I will have you confined to the dungeons, and exiled the moment this siege has ended.’ He looked Nori right in the eye, so that there could be no mistake that he really meant this. Thorin was prepared to be a bit more lenient towards him for Kate’s sake, but leniency had its limits. Laws had to be obeyed and he responded ill to theft anyway. The gold madness had left him alone, but no dwarf worth his beard suffered thieves in their presence lightly.

Nori looked at Kate, almost pleadingly.

She shook her head. ‘Nope. You’ve made your bed. Now you’ve got to sleep in it. I’m not going to come to your rescue here.’

‘Sisterly loyalty clearly shouldn’t be ranked very highly,’ her brother remarked sourly.

‘Neither should my tolerance of thieving,’ Kate said dismissively. ‘I probably won’t throw you in the dungeon myself – probably mind, no reassurances – but the law’s the law.’

Nori’s nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘You even sound like Dori,’ he complained, earning him a glare of Dori’s that had several Kate-like qualities. Arguing this family may do till their dying breaths, but it was sibling behaviour. At a certain age, Thorin and Frerin had not been much better.

Kate looked at him. ‘If you want me to put the necklace back where it came from, you only have to say so,’ she said.

Thorin shook his head. ‘It was part of Nori’s share and therefore his to give. I would strongly advise him to wait with taking the rest of it, though.’ He didn’t know what good his warning would do. Maybe he shouldn’t quite give up on Kate’s idea to send Nori away on some long mission far away once everything was settled. He didn’t really trust Nori in Erebor. He hadn’t trusted him in the Ered Luin either, but there was precious little he had been able to do about it there. Here, in his own kingdom, he had a duty to keep an eye on his criminals. And Nori was undoubtedly one.

Dori was starting on a whispered lecture about how Nori’s behaviour reflected badly on their sister, who was soon to be queen, and would he really want to embarrass his sister in such a way? Maybe it was a good thing that he was too busy ranting to give Nori an opportunity to answer the question. Thorin wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

‘Ready to go?’ Kate repeated her question. The irritation had disappeared, only to be replaced by nerves.

Thorin felt some of those himself. He was only too well aware of what was at stake. Dáin’s arrival could be the thing they needed to swing the odds in their favour, but it could also make the conflict escalate faster than he could say battle. The elves and men were unlikely to thank him for his course of action, but Thorin was still of the opinion he had been left with no other choice. This situation could not continue forever and Thranduil and Erland would only get access to his people’s wealth over his dead body. He tried and failed not to think too much about what the book said about him in relation to dead bodies. That was something he did not want to contemplate.

‘Ready,’ he confirmed.

Kate nodded. ‘Right, then. Let’s get this over with.’ There was that determination on her face again, the kind she had when she had to do something particularly unpleasant and she was bracing herself for the worst, because it had to be done after all and there was no escaping it. And maybe she had the right of it. Thorin himself was not exactly champing at the bit either. That didn’t mean he would be easily convinced. No, he would not be convinced at all. He had taken a stand and he would not be persuaded by an army before his gates.

The air outside was cold, but not unpleasant yet. His cloak shielded him from the worst of it, but he would easily believe that the army in the field was far worse. The wind was chill and elven magic could only do so much against the biting frost. Thorin felt a grim satisfaction.

The smell was unbearable though. The dragon’s corpse was rotting. Kate had drawn her shawl over mouth and nose in order to block some of the smell, but the look in her eyes told him that her preferred method of escaping the smell was not really working. He hadn’t expected it to. As soon as this was done with, he would have to find a solution for the corpse. It had to go somewhere, because it was not going to remain on his doorstep indefinitely.

Kate was fidgeting, twisting her scarf. ‘This is a bad idea,’ she said. ‘What if Dáin refuses to help us, because of me? He doesn’t know, does he?’

It was nothing like the advisor to be insecure. Whenever she got irritated, there was shouting, anger, snappiness. This did not suit her. ‘I did not tell him,’ he replied. At that time he’d had a few other things on his mind when he had sent the ravens to the Iron Hills. There was an army on his doorstep, and he needed help. His news about Kate could wait till later. If she had been her normal, snappy self, she would have told him to sort out his priorities and of course this was not the time to break the happy news. ‘We had more important things to see to.’

Kate nodded. ‘Great. Shouldn’t I go back?’

‘I never knew you for a coward,’ he snapped at her. Kate had once admitted that she knew what to do when he was slipping away into a mood they couldn’t use. He suspected that was not a talent that was only hers. He had developed it as well.

True to expectations, the defiance sparked in her eyes. ‘I am not a coward.’ Her voice dropped in anger; it was hardly above a whisper. ‘I was thinking about the quest.’

It was strange that they were still referring to their venture as the quest, as though it had not ended yet. Strictly speaking it would have ended the moment they established that the dragon was dead and that Erebor was theirs again. This, this was something else entirely, and at the same time it wasn’t. They were still fighting for their home, only now they were not striving to reclaim it, this time they were fighting tooth and nail to hang onto it.

‘Good,’ he said.

‘And us,’ Kate added. ‘I mean, we’ve seen how elves and men reacted to us. Hell, we’ve even heard the Great Goblin’s opinion, but we’ve never heard what any of your folk thinks of it.’

‘Oi, that’d make me wonder about what I am, then,’ Bofur commented. He was walking half a step behind them, within earshot, and he had never been known to particularly care for etiquette.

Kate glanced over her shoulder back at him. ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’ she protested. ‘I just mean to say that we have never heard what the really important people think. Oh, shit, I don’t mean to say that you’re not important!’ she added quickly when she realised her mistake and Bofur started laughing. She coloured a bright red in embarrassment.

The corners of Thorin’s mouth curled up almost of their own volition. He remembered that relatively early on in the quest, he had sometimes thought that Kate was good for the entertainment value in the company, even if she was good for nothing else.

Unfortunately she had seen his smile. ‘Thorin Oakenshield, this is not funny!’ she protested.

‘It is not,’ he agreed. ‘You are belittling a member of my company. I don’t take well to that.’ It was a very inappropriate time to fall back into their habit of bantering, but the words fell from his lips almost effortlessly. And maybe they both needed this. Because he may belittle Kate’s fears about Dáin’s reaction, but privately he shared them. The suspected opinion of his kin, the people who had not been with him on this quest and didn’t know Kate as his companions and he did, was one of the things that had been an obstacle, a reason why he had refrained from getting into a relationship with Kate Andrews. In the end they had gotten together, postponing the matter of the opinion of his people for a later date without talking about it. Today they would have to deal with it, come what may.

‘I suppose you’re laughing about something else then?’ Kate inquired sarcastically. ‘The dragon’s smell or something like that?’

‘Makes one’s nose wrinkle enough,’ Dwalin remarked, battling a smile of his own. He was a little more successful in his attempts than Bofur and Thorin himself, but he had known Fundin’s youngest son long enough to know when he was amused. ‘Could easily be mistaken for smiles.’

Kate rolled her eyes at him. Whatever truce those two had agreed on, it was still holding, to Thorin’s relief. Of course he would never admit to actually being relieved if called on, but it had been tense sometimes, being close to both of them, while they were circling around one another like hungry wolves, trying to anticipate who would attack whom first. ‘Of course you’re the very image of solemnness, are you?’ she shot back. ‘I’ll have you know that I meant authority figure, someone who actually does some ruling of his own and whose good opinion actually matters in the greater scheme of things.’

‘Very diplomatic,’ Dwalin complimented, equally mocking.

‘Why, thank you.’ There was a tentative grin on Kate’s face. ‘Now that you mention it, I do seem to be getting some practise lately, so that must be why I got so good at it. What’s it they say, again? Practise makes perfect?’

‘I’d say you need to practise some more then,’ Thorin commented. The lighter mood was catching and he felt he needed it, needed it to arm himself against what he would face soon, since Dáin’s good opinion was not a given thing and it was for sure that he had lost any chance at leniency from his foes the moment they realised he had called for help. They would be angry, extremely so, and there was no knowing if Gandalf would still be on their side – as he had seemed to be in the previous few weeks – now that he had found out that Thorin had taken measures to ensure his survival and that of his companions all by himself, without consulting him. He knew from experience that the wizard did not take well to such actions, since they had the tendency to mess up his own carefully thought out plans.

‘I’m getting it from all sides today!’ Kate complained, but the merry twinkle in her eyes belied her exasperated words. And maybe it was not all stemming from a need to alleviate the tension that was hanging over their heads. Maybe there was genuine relief as well, relief at being able to do this again, after weeks of not talking and ignoring one another as best they could. They were going from one extreme to the other and Thorin still failed to make sense of it. Part of him feared they may swing back just as easily. This meeting might even be crucial for their future as couple, not just for the fate of this siege.

‘You can count on the elves doing that,’ Thorin said.

That made the laugher die down, carried away with the cold winter winds in a heartbeat. They were approaching the tent now. It would be time to leave the merriment and concentrate on what needed doing. And it would not do to be seen laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They had cares, burdens, and now that the sound of their laughter was gone, they felt all the more heavy on his shoulders. The weight of them was utterly familiar though. He had been responsible for the fate of his people for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like not to worry almost constantly for their welfare. The fear of failure was an almost constant companion as well. He remembered the guilt over Azanulbizar all too well, and that battle had not even been his in the making. This was different. This time he was the one leading his people. He was responsible.

The one waiting for them to escort them in was no other than Elvaethor himself. Kate had reported that he had been stripped of his rank as captain of the guard – now held by his sister, whom Thorin had never met and never heard of either – and was now little more than a glorified butler, the price he’d had to pay for his generosity towards the company. Thorin might have felt sympathy for him, had he not been too close to Kate. He believed Kate when she said that there was nothing there but friendship on her part, and maybe even when she said that Elvaethor was no different, but Thorin wished that he would for Durin’s sake refrain from kissing her hand at every chance he got.

‘King Thorin, Queen Catherine,’ he greeted. His tone was solemn, but he shot Kate a wink, which belied his tone of voice. ‘It is good to see you in such good health. I must warn you, though, that the reception you will find here may not be as enthusiastic as the last time you were here, my lady.’

Kate merely rolled her eyes and kept her hand out of the elf’s reach. ‘You and I must have attended different meetings then,’ she observed. ‘Because I cannot for the life of me remember being greeted enthusiastically here, Lord Elvaethor.’

‘That is because you do not know elvish ways,’ the elf retorted. There was something in his voice and facial expression that suggested that this, this exchange of witticisms, was something they had done before, had even done on a regular basis. And he was not a part of that. Thorin tried not to feel excluded, but it was hard. Maybe it was the jealousy his race was known for, but he wished Elvaethor would keep his distance more, emotionally as well as physically.

‘And I am more than happy to keep it that way,’ Kate said, getting the final word. ‘But as much as I’d love to stand here and talk, I’d rather see the reception for myself before I make judgements.’

‘A most wise decision,’ Elvaethor admitted. ‘If you would follow me?’

Thorin did. Kate did too, but she kept behind him. Whether this was from a desire not to be in the foreground or out of fear – something he would not easily believe of her – he couldn’t say, but maybe it was for the best. Dáin was his kinsman after all, and it was already doubtful what he would say. And Thorin didn’t know him all that well. It was a long way from the Iron Hills to the Ered Luin and Dáin had made the journey only a couple of times, last time when he had attended the meeting where Thorin had asked for his assistance in the quest, a request Dáin had turned down the moment the last word had left Thorin’s mouth, claiming that it was folly to try and do so, suicide even. Besides, Thorin’s people had a life now in the Ered Luin. Why would they risk their lives for a Mountain that was long since lost when they had everything they could possibly need?

If Dáin was not plain stupid, Thorin had thought, than he was at least ignorant, painfully so. He didn’t think his cousin was a coward – he had seen him fight at Azanulbizar after all, cutting down orcs as if it was nothing – but he didn’t know what to make of him either. He had refused to aid him in his quest against Smaug. Of course, Dáin was hardly the only one to suffer from sudden cowardice when the dragon came into the equation. When the call to arms had come in the fight against the orcs of the Misty Mountains, his people had come quickly enough. Of course Dáin had not been in charge then – the decision had been his father’s to make – so it was uncertain what Dáin himself would say. Of course he had come, which was part of the answer already. But would he be willing to take a stand with Thorin? He honestly could not tell.

The atmosphere in the tent was as icy as the air outside. Thorin caught a brief glance of Thranduil’s face, looking like he had been forced to chew on a sour lemon. Lord Erland didn’t look much happier. For a moment Thorin felt a sense of frustration, because they were so much taller than he was. Among his own people he counted as tall, but that didn’t mean anything here. Here he was a dwarf to be looked down upon, a feeling he hated. He had been getting these looks for years. Somehow he had fooled himself into thinking this would stop the moment the dragon was dead. He had been a fool indeed.

But he ignored the elves and the men in the tent. He had not come here for them. And, true to expectations, Dáin was indeed present. In truth, he had hardly changed since the time Thorin last laid eyes on him. He was a little shorter than Thorin himself, but broad of shoulder and as unmovable as the iron of his left foot, the result of an injury he had received at Azanulbizar. His face was unreadable at first, but when he caught sight of Thorin and heard his name as Elvaethor formally announced him to the gathering, a smile broke through. ‘Thorin. It is good to see you.’

Dwarves were not a deceitful race – they left the lies to the elves and the men – and Thorin had no reason to doubt that he meant what he said. He may have refused to help at that meeting, but it would seem now that the dragon was dead, there was nothing holding him back from coming to his cousin’s aid. Thorin was glad of it.

‘Dáin, my kinsman,’ he acknowledged, bumping their foreheads together. He sincerely hoped that Dáin would not repeat the treatment on Kate; he’d knock her unconscious instantly. ‘The feeling is mutual.’

Dáin merely nodded. His gaze had already shifted to a point behind Thorin’s left shoulder, the place where he knew Kate would be. This was the moment of truth. He may fear the consequences of this, but he was not ashamed of the woman. Balin had said – in what felt like another lifetime, before Erebor had been reclaimed – that he would have earned the right to make some controversial decisions. It was time to put his theory to the test. All of a sudden he was not that certain anymore that Balin had been right, but there was no going back now, not anymore. And anyway, he was not ashamed of her, not after the journey they had made together.

‘Dáin, I’d like you to meet Lady Catherine, my wife.’

 

***

 

It was almost automatic that Kate decided to hang back a bit while Thorin greeted his kinsman. She wasn’t the type to be nervous, she knew, but this was clearly an exception to the general rule. When she had said yes to Thorin, they had decided – by unspoken, but undoubtedly mutual agreement – to leave the discussion for what to do with the opinion of his kin for another day, another time. And really, there was always something else that needed her attention more urgently. There had been the dragon looming over their heads for quite some time. After that, she had been fretting about Thorin’s health and trying to think of a way to get that thrice-cursed corpse out of the Mountain as soon as humanly and dwarvishly possible. And then there had been an army in front of the gate and Dáin had become the answer to many a prayer. She had never once spared the other matter as much as a fleeting thought.

That aspect of things had only resurfaced in her mind as she was wriggling her way past a stinking dragon, trying her best not to let the resulting nausea get the better of her, making her throw up all over that pretty dress Dori had put her in. The opinion of Thorin’s kin about her, and specifically about her relationship with Thorin, had suddenly become a very urgent matter that deserved attention. She had considered going back and had said so, but Thorin had not taken to it well. He seemed to think she had turned coward after all and that was something she decidedly was not. And she would prove it, too. It was like a challenge that was put to her, and Kate Andrews was like her brother in that respect: she could not turn a challenge down. And Thorin was right; Dáin would find out sooner or later, with sooner being the most likely option. They might as well get the whole thing over with. It had to be done eventually.

Still, she waited as Thorin greeted the legendary Dáin Ironfoot. According to Dwalin he was named for the artificial left foot, made of iron, as a replacement for the foot of flesh and blood he had lost as a result of Azanulbizar. As far as Kate could see though, not just his one foot was made of the stuff; his boots looked rather like iron as well.

The dwarf standing in the boots was a little shorter than Thorin, but no less impressive. He was broad of shoulder, stoutly built. Kate was left with the impression that he could be run over by a bus and he would still be standing, not sporting as much as a scratch. He had a beard all the way down to his waist, with a multitude of braids in it. The look in his eyes was alert, but warm as soon as he caught sight of Thorin. He was not someone to be underestimated. There was intelligence there.

Still, she could not see him without remembering Thorin’s bitter remarks about Dáin refusing to come to Thorin’s aid when he asked for it. Kate, who knew just how much it must have cost Thorin to swallow his pride and ask for help in the first place, found herself hard-pressed to think well of him. Yes, the odds had always been against the company and the quest they were undertaking, but it would have been easier if they’d had more manpower behind them. Dáin had denied them that, but he didn’t look like a coward. Quite the contrary, he looked completely the opposite. She truly could not figure him out.

And now was perhaps not the time for an extended analysis, because Dáin had become aware of her, eyeing her with barely concealed confusion and a frown on his forehead. The most likely explanation for this was that he didn’t know who she was and what on earth she was doing here, coming in with Thorin’s retinue. All of a sudden Kate became uncomfortably aware of the very royal looking diadem Dori had braided into her hair. Heaven only knew what he was making of that. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know.

Thorin turned around and gave her something that with a little imagination might pass for an encouraging smile. ‘Dáin, I’d like you to meet Lady Catherine, my wife.’

There, he had said it. There was no going back from this now. What was said could not be unsaid. All they could do now was wait until Dáin had processed this information and wait what he would do with it.

For a moment it looked like the other dwarf was lost for words as he positively stared at her in disbelief. Then the gaze shifted back to Thorin, as if he was silently asking him whether or not he was joking. Thorin himself had his back to her, so she couldn’t actually see his face, but she could make an educated guess that it sported that look of not-amused determination right now, if the speed with which the pleading look on Dáin’s face turned to shock was any indication.

Fortunately he remembered his manners not long after and he took some steps in Kate’s direction. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Catherine.’

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ she assured him, inclining her head in a respectful manner and hoping to God that was what she was supposed to do. All of a sudden she realised she was woefully unprepared for this exchange. She had no idea what she was supposed to do or how she was supposed to behave. She’d asked Dori, who’d come up with the useless advice of ‘be yourself and don’t cause a scandal’ – two things that were at odds with one another, because if she really was herself, she could practically guarantee scandal to be imminent – after which Nori had supplied his own advice to tell all the attendants exactly what she thought about them, which could not be reckoned as sound advice by any stretch of the imagination either. All things considered, she might be better off if she _didn’t_ follow her brothers’ counsel.

Fortunately Dáin was helping out by extending his hand to her. Kate, relieved to find that this was something she could do, took it and meant to shake it, only to learn that had not been Dáin’s intent when he planted a kiss on it. ‘I did not know my kinsman had taken a wife,’ he remarked, with what it seemed honest bewilderment, but whether that was caused by her being of the race of Men or Thorin’s rather sudden marriage remained to be seen.

‘It’s rather recent,’ Kate replied, not quite sure if she had heard a criticism just now. ‘And with the planning for the quest going on, I’m afraid we quite forgot to inform you of it. My apologies.’

Dáin smiled, but it was with a touch of hesitance to it. Had they been alone, without the whole audience of enemies in the same tent, Kate might have been a bit more straightforward, but there was no chance of that now. This was doing a tango on a tightrope and there was every chance of falling off and plunging to their deaths if they didn’t play it right. She wondered if Dáin knew that.

‘No matter,’ the dwarf said, finally letting go of her hand. _You’re just not what I expected_ , his eyes told her. And he clearly had not made up his mind about her just yet. It gave Kate the annoying feeling that she had something to prove, something she had hoped to be done with by now. Goodness, had she not yet proven herself on this quest enough already? Of course Dáin hadn’t been there, and it was twice as annoying – and yes, terrifying as well – since his opinion of her mattered, quite a bit too, because they were still dependent on his help, a feeling Kate passionately disliked.

And it didn’t help that she didn’t know what to make of him. He seemed kind enough, if mightily confused right now. His advisors were less enthusiastic. They shared their lord’s confusion, but on at least three of the four faces Kate could detect disapproval without any effort on her part. It wasn’t until she met the last of Dáin’s advisors, a relatively tall dwarf with green eyes, a large nose and brown hair by the name of Nói, that she was met with something akin to enthusiasm.

‘Thorin has cheated us of a treat,’ he declared. ‘Keeping you away from us. He ought to have brought you to the meeting back in the spring. No doubt the Seven Kingdoms would have laid their weapons at your feet if you just smiled for them, Lady Catherine.’

This Nói fellow was not as skilled as Elvaethor in the art of flattery, not by a long way, but it sounded sincere. Combined with the fact that he was the only one who met her with kindness and with none of the confusion and wariness she had detected in his kinsmen was a welcome relief. She’d seen enough of hostilities to last her a lifetime.

‘I do believe this could be seen as shameless exaggeration, Lord Nói,’ she informed him. ‘And please, call me Kate.’

‘Only if you drop my title in return,’ he said.

Kate nodded. ‘Aye, that seems fair to me. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nói.’ And she was. Maybe if he was not immediately disapproving, the others might come round. Not that she would pin all her hopes on that, mind, but a body had to keep on hoping, hadn’t it? Nói at least seemed welcoming. Maybe the rest of them just had to deal with their surprise…

 _Keep on wishful thinking, girl_ , she told herself as she took her place at the table, sandwiched between Thorin and Dáin. At the very least she was going to keep her mouth shut and let Thorin do the talking. Not that this strategy had ever worked before – eventually there was always something that set her teeth on edge and made her verbally lash out – but she liked to think that she had learned her lesson by now. She’d had more than enough practise trying to keep herself from exploding when Thranduil and Erland had been pouring scorn on her every word. She could handle some more.

And she certainly was off to a good start. She kept her mouth firmly shut when Thranduil detailed the reason for the meeting, not all that surprised that he made it sound as though Dáin’s arrival had nothing to do with it at all. If he were to be believed, the only reason they were gathered here was because he had taken pity on the company, being all miserable under the Mountain with food stores running low and winter fast approaching – Kate had a lingering suspicion Lady Galadriel had not shared the particulars of food provision with the king of Mirkwood – and he would gladly give them the opportunity to reconsider. After all, it would be a shame to let lives go to waste for nothing but gold.

At that Kate nearly laughed out loud, but she controlled herself and congratulated herself on her ability of doing so. ‘I do not intend to go back on any of the offers I have made to you before,’ Thorin stated. Now that they were all seated he could look the elf right in the eyes, taking away Thranduil’s annoying advantage of height. Kate liked that rather better; she hated him towering over her with such an annoying expression of self-proclaimed superiority on his face.

‘You made no offer to my people,’ Thranduil said.

‘Just so,’ Thorin retorted. If he hadn’t looked quite so serious, Kate could very easily have been fooled into thinking that he was trying to make light of the situation.

As it was, Thranduil didn’t seem to think it funny either. Quite the contrary, really. Had he not been an elf and had elves not been far above such physical reactions, no doubt he’d be resembling an over-boiled lobster by now. Kate enjoyed that mental picture a bit too much. ‘Do not think I do not see your scheme, Thorin Oakenshield,’ he spat. He may be above the over-boiled lobster imitation, but his eyes sparked in anger and all of a sudden he looked _dangerous_. It was the kind of look that would normally trigger the impulse to run for the hills right here and now. Unfortunately that was not an option. ‘Employing armed forces to get your way will not do you good. You know that truth and justice are not on your side!’ It was the first time he lost control like that, so something Thorin had said must have gotten right under his skin.

Kate could feel her fists clench in anger. ‘That’s rich, coming from you.’ The words had left her mouth before she could even begin to stop herself. Well, if she was going to make a mess of this, she might as well do it thoroughly, seeing as she could obviously not contain her anger. And she was still believed to be Thorin’s queen. Surely she had a right to speak. ‘It’s just, I seem to remember that it was you, along with your new best friend, who brought his army to threaten starvation unless he was given what he wasn’t owed. We’re only returning the favour. I’m sure you can appreciate the feeling of being trapped. Get a taste of your own medicine, so to speak.’

The thing that had stopped her from blurting out everything she was not supposed to say, was now gone. The words spilled from her mouth. It wasn’t a wise thing to do and it certainly had been a while since she indulged in it. Stress and duty – now there was a strange thought; that she actually could be burdened by such a thing that never before had a place in her life – had buried that part of her. Apparently it was anger – of course it was anger – that made that part of her resurface. It wasn’t wise of her to do what she did, and part of her brain, the part named common sense, tried to tell her so, but she had never been in the habit of listening to common sense.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Thranduil said, eyes narrowed, making him look even more dangerous.

For some reason however Kate Andrews had moved beyond fear. Strangely enough, she had even gone beyond anger. She felt liberated, liberated as she shed duty and polite historical-drama-like conversation and became herself again. There was a reasonable chance she would regret this later, but right that moment she felt almost happy.

‘I should bloody well hope that you do,’ she countered. Words had always been her forte and Thranduil had given her perfect excuse to use them, against him. ‘After all the insulting you have done of late, not to mention the illegal incarceration you did before that, I should rather hope you were sorry. A far as I can see you not only did that, but you also wrongfully besieged the people who did you a bigger favour than you probably deserve; they rid this area of the greatest nuisance it has seen in an age.’

From the corner of her eyes she could see Dáin’s eyes widen, considerably, as he practically stared at her. Good or bad staring, that was something she wasn’t quite sure of yet. Thorin on the other hand had a gleam in his eyes that she remembered rather well. She used to see it, from time to time, when they were working together, and things went well, and they had the upper hand for once, like when they planned another route through Mirkwood and there was nothing Gandalf could do to stop them. Thank God that he at least was with her. They might just pull this off.

That silent support, that silent approval of her actions spurred her on. ‘Of course it would be too much to manage as much as a thank you for that,’ she observed. ‘I regret to say that your son has more manners.’ She gave the elf a critical once over. ‘Not that it’s that difficult to have more manners. Might be quite an achievement to have less, to be honest.’

‘Are you insulting me?’ Thranduil all but snarled.

‘You would have known it if she did.’ Thorin, bless him, sounded calm and completely in control. ‘She speaks true. You have broken your oaths made to my grandfather, to my people, twice over and you believe you have a right to what rightfully belongs to Durin’s Folk? I would have you gone from my lands and back to the lands you came from.’ It sounded like she wasn’t the only one who was losing her temper, although she would have to admit that she was still a long way off from doing it in the altogether more dignified way Thorin did it. ‘Our offer stands for those we have made promises to.’

Thranduil and Erland both, and simultaneously, shot a nervous glance at Dáin and his men, although the elf was just a little bit subtler about it. This did do wonders for Kate’s nerves. They had gone. For some stupid reason it felt like good old times – if one could refer to a period that was only a few months in the past as old times – when it was Thorin and Kate against the world. Admittedly, it had mostly been Thorin and Kate against the grey wizard, but the essence was the same. And maybe it was only because they were now not as powerless as they had been that she felt so much better.

‘Would you sink as low as to attack us?’ It was Galas who asked the million dollar question. Kate had a lingering suspicion either his uncle or his uncle’s new best friend would have asked it long before now if they weren’t afraid of losing face, of showing that perhaps they really were afraid of what would happen if they were to face an army of dwarves in battle. Truth be told, they did look rather dangerous.

Come to think of it, from his manner of speaking Kate had been able to piece together that he didn’t doubt that Dáin would fight for them, something that puzzled her a little, since he had never put any of his faith in his kinsman for as long she had known him. Maybe this was just because Dáin had come and Thorin apparently didn’t think her presence had any bearing on the question of whether or not his cousin would stay to fight for them if the need arose.

This however did worry a few other people. Lady Galadriel, who hadn’t contributed anything to the meetings themselves so far, was staring at the dwarves that had come in with Dáin, as in so far elves could stare. It was however entirely possible to note the displeased look she sported. And Kate was even more suspicious when she gave a long look at Elvaethor, whose expression briefly betrayed that he was disturbed. Maybe she had been seeing too much of him that she could now read his face, but there was definitely something there and whatever it was, it was quite likely that she wouldn’t like it.

But there really wasn’t any time to think about it. ‘We would defend ourselves and our home if the need arose,’ Thorin answered calmly.

‘Don’t you mean to say “if the greed arose”?’ Galas sneered.

‘You must be talking about yourself then, surely,’ Kate observed. ‘Seeing as you’re the one camping here in the hopes of getting a bit richer.’

She would have gone on were it not that the Lady Galadriel was distracting her. This time it was because she sent another long look at one of the people present in the tent, Gandalf this time. The wizard gave almost no physical reaction at all, but Kate had the advantage of having seen him in a state of near panic before. She thought it would be safe to say that he was having something of a panic attack now. _What the hell is going on?_

It all went over Galas’s ignorant head. ‘Since this is coming from the mouth of the woman who is deliberately withholding our fair due…’ he began, proving himself to be very childish indeed.

Gandalf interrupted. ‘It is getting late,’ he said. ‘Would it not be better to give mutual reassurances that no one will attack tonight and resume this meeting in the morning?’

It was a sign of how respected a person he was that nobody voiced any kind of protest, although Lord Erland, ignorant idiot that he was, clearly meant to do exactly that until he was silenced by a warning look from his elvish friend. Good thing too. He hadn’t opened his mouth yet today – despite the fact that he was the kind of person who simply loved the sound of his own voice – and it now looked as if he wouldn’t either. Kate might have been relieved about that, if she had not had that feeling that made her skin crawl. Something was wrong, but she simply couldn’t put her finger on it.

She tried to catch Elvaethor’s eyes while the rest wrapped up the meeting, but the elf pointedly avoided her gaze. It was only when she was about to exit that he pressed a piece of parchment in her hand, without even looking at her. If this had not been Middle Earth, she would have been fooled into thinking she had now ended up in some sort of spy movie. The nerves, having been temporarily absent while she was giving the elves a piece of her mind, came back with a vengeance.

‘What’d he give you?’ Thorin demanded when they were out of – elvish – earshot.

Kate stole a glance at the words on the parchment and then, wordlessly, passed it on to Thorin. Something was definitely wrong.

 

* * *

 

Elvaethor’s note: _We need to meet urgently. Please come to the side door as quickly as you can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe it’s almost a year ago since I began this tale. I’m not quite sure I would have started it if I knew it was going to be this long! Hopefully it won’t take another year to finish.  
> Next time: Elvaethor explains his note. Please review?


	78. Wolves and Sheep

_Let me tell you, one can get awfully nervous when confronted with such a note. Not reassuring at all, I can tell you, and it was even worse because we had absolutely no clue as to what it was that Elvaethor wanted to discuss with us. The best guess I could make was that it had something to do with whatever it was that Lady Galadriel had seen in someone’s mind. That was about as far as my observation went, which is why I have never become very good at all that spying business. Of course it does help when one has the power to read minds. Elves decidedly are good for something. The thing is not to tell them; it always goes straight to their heads._

_Fortunately I don’t have to feel so bad about not being all that subtle; your father isn’t either, which admittedly is something of a relief, if not too much. He didn’t have any idea either, so I quite wonder how you lot got so clever._

_Oh, dears, that reminds me of the one time Thráin all but caused diplomatic scandal with one of Thranduil’s retainers. Yes, I know I’m embarrassing you, my lad, but in truth, I was really very proud of you, even if I never actually got round to saying it to you. Too busy trying to salvage what little was left of the goodwill between our two peoples, I suppose, but I was. Very proud, I mean. What else could I be since you said exactly what I wanted to say for hours? So, this is a belated thank you, my darling. Thank you._

_But I’m writing these memoirs for all of you and I don’t think your younger siblings ever got to hear the full story, so here goes. It was 2949 TA, I think, when – surprise, surprise – the elves came for a visit. Thranduil was on his best behaviour – only because he needed that agreement, mind – but I’m afraid the same thing could not be said about one of his courtiers, a relatively young elf called Fanion, with a very strong dislike of dwarves and everything to do with them._

_Thoren and Thráin were old enough to attend the feast and were suitably cooed and fussed over by our visitors to show how nice they could be. Doubtlessly at least some of them meant what they said. Also doubtlessly there were quite a few who didn’t mean a word of what they said and were only behaving because that was what expected of them._

_Fanion was one of those. He was some distant relative of Thranduil’s – don’t ask me about the exact relation, though; elven genealogies tend to get complicated very quickly, not in the very least because all those names sound alike – and he was seated close to all the Important People. I can’t remember what he said exactly, but I think it was something about how radiant I was looking._

_I do however remember Thráin’s reply to that with perfect clarity. ‘No, you’re lying,’ he said. It certainly didn’t help matters that this was said during one of those odd silences one sometimes has at a feast, making sure everyone heard a prince of Durin’s line insult visiting royalty. Thráin of course misinterpreted the deafening silence that followed this all too true announcement and went on: ‘He’s lying,_ amad _. He wrinkled his nose at you. I saw._ Adad _always wrinkles his nose when you’re telling him to eat vegetables.’ He considered that for a moment and then added: ‘And when he’s talking to elves, too.’_

_Well, that did it. Not only did he manage to call the elf out on lying – which, let’s be honest, he had indeed been doing – but he had also told the truth about Thorin’s continued dislike of his dealings with the pointy-ears. The thing is, all of it was true and all of us knew Thráin was speaking the truth. It was just not done to actually say it out loud. The result? A few very tense weeks, insincere apologies and no elves in Erebor for the grand total of three years, another thing for which I owe you my gratitude, Thráin._

_But I am getting off topic. Old woman’s ailment, or so they say. Anyway, in hindsight I should maybe have been a little less clueless than I was, so when all was revealed to me, it truly came as a surprise and I cursed myself for the greatest fool alive…_

 

 _We need to meet urgently. Please come to the side door as quickly as you can._ There was something altogether unnerving about that message, Kate decided. It made it seem as if Elvaethor himself was nervous about something and, although she had not known the elf for all that long, he hadn’t struck her as the type to be nervous about anything. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Elvaethor was the kind of elf who waltzed through life without a single care in the world, who lounged on thrones that didn’t belong to him without fear of repercussions, who shrugged at the idea of prison and who apparently didn’t care about losing his job and being reduced to a glorified butler. The only time she had seen him worked up over something was when Erland and Thranduil had declared the Mountain under siege.

Thorin gave her a quick, if worried, glance. ‘Do you believe him to be genuine?’ Dáin was still with them, even if he had left his advisors behind, for which Kate was grateful.

‘I reckon so,’ she said. ‘He’s not lied to us before. I don’t think he’ll be leading us into a trap now.’ She shook her head. ‘Something is going on, something to do with whatever the hell it was that Lady Galadriel knows or found out during that meeting. Elvaethor knows, and so does Gandalf.’

‘What _does_ he know?’ Dáin was apparently tired of being excluded from the conversation and so he spoke up. He still did not seem pleased with her and it rubbed the wrong way with Kate.

‘If I knew I wouldn’t be standing here wondering,’ she retorted. All of a sudden she felt completely out of place again, as if she was the uninvited guest at a party and was wearing the wrong clothes at the same time. It was not a pleasant feeling by a very long way. Still, Thorin was unlikely to thank her for insulting his kinsman. ‘My apologies. I did not mean to insult you in any way.’ Couldn’t the ground just open and swallow her up? Awkwardness was very present now and there were no others here to stay Dáin’s tongue should he choose to give her a piece of his mind. She wondered if this was what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life, constantly criticised by Thorin’s people for being who she was in the position that she held. It was no charming prospect.

Kate couldn’t say what stayed Dáin’s tongue, but she did know that she was grateful for it. Small mercies and all that. Like as not Thorin’s murderous expression had something to do with his silence as well.

‘Apology accepted,’ the Lord of the Iron Hills said. ‘It is a shame not to have met you before.’

‘I agree,’ Kate said, more of a polite pleasantry than that she actually meant it.

Dáin, she realised, was a mystery. He wasn’t a coward and yet he had refused help when Thorin asked him the first time. Admittedly this was no time to question his motives, not when they were so dependent on his help to get rid of the unwanted visitors. She wondered all the same.

‘You wonder about me, don’t you?’ That was out of her mouth too before she could even think it through, but she didn’t regret saying it. If they were to work together, she was not going to spend all that time feeling awkward. That was no way to go through life. ‘I see that you do. And I apologise if my being here is offensive to you.’ _But I am here now and you’d better get used to me, because I’m not going anywhere._

She knew better than to speak any of that out loud though. She was skating on very thin ice already and although she didn’t think that Dáin would turn his back on them now, it was probably best not to risk it, just in case. And the whole thing sounded strange anyway. It was as if she had really decided to stay, had really decided not to leave and therefore turn her back on the life she had known. She’d leave her family, her friends, the future she had planned, all to marry Thorin Oakenshield and rule over a kingdom the people of which may very well reject her. It didn’t feel like the most genius plan she had ever come up with. But then, when had reason ever had anything to do with this quest?

Still, she had a desperate urge to run. Give her Thranduil any day over this. Let him think and say whatever it was that he wanted to think and say, it would be easier to deal with than Dáin’s opinions, since his actually meant something. They certainly would mean something to the quest, and they would carry weight with Thorin and other important dwarves as well. Not a thought she liked well. If she blew it now, the future might look very bleak indeed.

‘I do not know what to make of you, Queen Catherine.’ Fortunately Dáin did her the favour of being blunt. After all that elvish subtlety she was craving it more than dwarves craved gold. Politics truly were not an area she was likely to ever excel in. Oh, she could do it, but it was exhausting, more so than dragging a dragon through the Mountain.

‘Kate,’ she corrected. ‘Please.’ He was kin, sort of, or at least he would be, and maybe dispensing with all the formalities would make him look kinder on her. It was a long shot, but she would do a lot – not quite anything yet – to get rid of this awkwardness. She had never been any good with that.

‘Queen Kate,’ Dáin corrected his own words, although that was not entirely what she’d had in mind either.

‘And I know,’ she said. ‘That you do not know what to make of me. I hope I will not disappoint.’ What else was there to say? Well, a part of her wanted to start defending herself and her current position as Queen under the Mountain, but that would make her sound like a little girl. No, worse, it would make her sound as if she herself didn’t think she had any right to be where she was and to do what she did, that she was convincing herself as much as the Lord of the Iron Hills. And that, she knew, would be a very bad thing.

Fortunately Thorin came to the rescue. ‘Did the elf say anything?’

This was something she could do, talking about the quest. ‘He didn’t,’ she replied. ‘Just pushed the note into my hand. To be honest, he didn’t even look at me at all.’ She grimaced. ‘You have to admit that’s not like him.’

Now Dáin frowned. ‘You have found an elvish ally?’

‘In a manner of speaking,’ Thorin confirmed with the utmost reluctance. Kate didn’t really think he suspected Elvaethor of having his sights set on her, but he wasn’t very fond of him either. ‘He has aided us several times.’ She wondered what it cost him to admit to that. If given the choice, he would probably have omitted Elvaethor from the tale entirely, but dwarves were known for being honest, brutally so, and honesty demanded of him that he told everything, if called on.

There was something in Thorin’s manner that spoke of distrust towards his kinsman. Kate would have to be a fool to miss it, and she wasn’t. Maybe it was because Dáin hadn’t come at first when Thorin asked it of him. She supposed that if she had been in Thorin’s shoes, she would be careful about trusting such a person as well, because he was unreliable. Who was to say he wouldn’t turn his back on them now. If he did it once, it stood to reason that he could do it again. And, if she had been him, with all the prejudices he had harboured for a lifetime, it would sting to know that an elf, a race that dwarves had quarrelled with literally for ages, had extended the hand of friendship in times of need when his own kin had initially left him to fend for himself.

‘He did,’ Kate said. ‘Although only Mahal knows why. He isn’t very quick to share his motivations with anyone but himself.’ She might, after all, score some points with bringing Mahal’s name into the conversation, to make it sound like she actually belonged here.

But he had shared his motivations, the day when Erland had declared the Mountain besieged, even if she still struggled to make sense of them. But he was on their side and that was really the most important thing, she thought as they bid Dáin a good night and left for Erebor.

Kate was glad of it, glad to have made it through the day and to have come out in one piece, which was something of an achievement in her opinion. ‘He doesn’t like me,’ she said. ‘He’s polite about it, but he doesn’t like me.’

It was one of her worst fears come to live, being rejected by Thorin’s people. Never mind what idiots like Erland said of it, but Dáin and his people were the really important ones, the ones that could make or break this relationship. That was a very unpleasant thought. For some reason it made her feel like going back home to her own world would be a most brilliant idea. And she wasn’t just talking about just a visit. At times she wondered if it was really worth all the trouble, really worth all the fighting. She had entered into this relationship in order not to have to fight again, only to find that she actually had to double her efforts. Not only did she have to fight for the most unconventional relationship this world had ever seen, but she also had to battle the prejudices and harsh opinions of the judgemental minds of practically every race she had thus far encountered.

She wondered how issues like this had never come up in any of the fanfictions she’d read. How could people not have thought of it? Had they no sense of realism at all? To Kate it seemed like one of the most important problems she would have to face if she was really going to live here. But then, since when had fanfictions anything to do with real life? Most of those characters were based on what an author deemed a good character and perfect looks. As far as Kate Andrews was concerned, people did not have perfect looks and the first person with the perfect character had yet to be born.

And she wasn’t a quitter. Even for all the less than pleasant character traits she had, she was fairly sure that this was one of her redeeming qualities. She was no quitter, no oathbreaker. Thorin had asked her to stand by him and she had promised to do so. He had asked her to marry him – all right, she’d all but asked the bloody question herself, but that was not the point – and she had consented. She didn’t run. It was not like her. She was not her father, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Thorin did not bother with a reply; like as not he knew that she was right. It was a risk they had taken and now they would have to deal with the consequences. There was no going back now anyway, no way to alter the story they had been carefully feeding almost everyone they had encountered on his quest. Besides, it had ceased to be just a story for them.

‘He will not go,’ Thorin said. ‘He owes us his allegiance.’

‘If he wanted to, he would not have answered your call,’ she agreed. She didn’t say what they no doubt both were thinking. Dáin did not seem a coward, but he hadn’t seemed very happy with the way things were going either. And there was something about Gandalf and his friends. ‘I think Gandalf was panicking.’

It was better to change the subject anyway. Dáin’s actions were not something they could influence now. This was not exactly a happy topic either, but it may prove to be the most urgent. Gandalf out of his depth was not something she had seen very often. Kate thought she remembered that he had been like this when Thorin and she announced that they would not take his preferred route through Mirkwood. Back then she hadn’t understood why he made such a fuss about it. Only later had she learned that it was because he had someone on the elven path to aid them, while on the Men-i-Naugrim they would be truly on their own.

‘Aye,’ Dwalin agreed. ‘Last time he looked like that you had thrown his pipe into the river.’

Despite the depressing situation, Kate laughed. ‘Happy days,’ she said, almost longingly. ‘Although, if I remember correctly, you had all but choked yourself on a bit of water. Come to think of it, that was rather funny too.’

‘I’m afraid your brother didn’t appreciate your dress sense either,’ Dwalin countered.

‘Dori’s a bit of a killjoy,’ she pointed out. ‘And he was not the one choking.’ How it had come to this, her bantering with Dwalin, she wasn’t entirely sure. Most likely it was another result of the tension that felt so suffocating. And it actually worked for her. The moment she was entering a friendly exchange of witticisms, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she could breathe more easily. The world didn’t look quite so gloomy anymore. _As long as there’s humour, there’s hope_. There was some truth in that. And wasn’t that exactly how they had survived this long in the first place?

‘Wouldn’t be so certain as all that,’ Bofur chimed in. ‘He might have done that when he learned about the two of you.’ He gave pointed looks at both Thorin and her.

‘Nonsense,’ Kate said dismissively, but with a smile tugging at her lips. ‘In truth, he did no such thing. He just worked himself up to a near stroke, that’s all.’

‘That it?’ Dwalin grinned. ‘Thought he was about to keel over dead.’

‘If he was going to, it’s more likely he would have done so decades ago, what with all the grief Nori’s giving him on a daily basis. He’ll be perfectly all right, I’d say.’

That was the end of the conversation, but not by design. Even Dwalin now covered nose and mouth when squeezing past the dragon. The stench increased daily, Kate could swear. Not that they were terribly affected by it in the Mountain itself, but it still was far too noticeable outside for her taste. A wave of nausea swept over her and she decided not to breathe until she was back inside, where the quality of the air was definitely better. Well, they were probably lucky it was winter; the stench would be even more unbearable in summer heat.

‘Disgusting,’ she judged when back in the hall.

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ Bofur said. He sniffed the air. ‘Smells like Bombur’s making stew. Just the thing to get that dragon out of my nostrils.’

‘Doubtlessly,’ Kate agreed. She smelled it too and her stomach now chose to remind her that it had been quite a while since she had put something in it, stinking dragon already forgotten. ‘Tell him to save me some. I’m afraid we’ll have to meet with Elvaethor first. He said – well, wrote – that it was urgent.’ Which reminded her that there may be something more wrong than just a few elves and men being in a right foul mood at being bested at their own game. Gandalf wouldn’t have been so disturbed if it was nothing more than that. And that did make this a top priority.

Bofur took off his hat and made a mocking bow. ‘I’ll guard your dinner with my life.’

But the banter had been done with and Kate could only manage a feeble smile. ‘I’m counting on it,’ she replied.

It was only when their guards for the day left and Thorin and she made their way to the side door that she realised that although the air had been filled with laughter and jokes, Thorin had not taken part in any of it. Instead he had retreated into his own mind. Kate fancied herself something of an expert – or at least well on her way to becoming one – on the moods of the King under the Mountain, and this silence boded ill. It was that brooding thing he did, whenever he feared something was amiss. And Kate knew from bitter experience on the matter that it was very hard to snap him out of it, and even harder to snap him out of it without finding herself in the middle of a fight she had no ambition of having right now. They had quite enough on their plate fighting a common enemy. And she found she was done fighting with Thorin. Didn’t they at least deserve to have their own happily ever after now, after all their personal issues, even if the outside world was so keen on denying them a happy ending?

‘What’s on your mind?’ she asked.

‘I think you know.’ Not quite the answer Kate was hoping for, but at least he did answer, which was something. Often enough he didn’t even give a verbal reply when things were looking this bad.

‘You’re thinking what I’m thinking then?’ she asked. ‘The Battle of the Five Armies?’ She had been very hesitant about uttering the name, as if speaking it would bring it right to their doorstep. Superstition of course, and a completely irrational fear, especially when this seemed to have something to do with the meeting and something the Lady Galadriel had found out there. It could not have anything to do with approaching armies. How could she have discovered such a thing during such a meeting anyway? No, this had to be something else, but yet it was on her mind all the same.

Because that was the thing that was supposed to happen next, according to the book, and around this time as well, which must be the very reason why her mind had immediately jumped to that particular conclusion. It only made sense, after all. Azog may be dead, but his son was probably still very much alive. Still, such a thing was not to be learned from a meeting. This was something else.

She told him as much. ‘You’re afraid for the outcome,’ she concluded when he didn’t respond to her announcement that this could not be about the battle. Silence could mean a lot with Thorin, and although sometimes she could guess what they meant, it remained a guessing game all the same.

‘I am not afraid for myself,’ he replied.

Kate knew full well what he meant; he feared for Fíli and Kíli more than he feared for his own life, and he had expressed a similar sentiment before, but suddenly it sounded heartless to her.

‘I’d rather you were,’ she told him, stopping and snapping, in exactly that order.

He stopped when he realised she did. ‘There is no shame in falling in honourable battle,’ he reminded her, reminded her that in some ways his people were utterly different from her own, something of which she very much _didn’t_ want to be reminded of right now.

‘That doesn’t mean you have to do that,’ she pointed out. ‘And I am not asking you to stay out of the fighting if that is where we are headed, but could you for heaven’s sake try to be a bit more concerned with your own survival, even if only for my sake?’

It was a downside of caring, the possibility of losing. She had cared before, and lost before. She cared about her father and she had lost him, not to death admittedly, but it was loss all the same. And she wasn’t even sure how deeply she cared for him by the end. What she had with Thorin ran deeper, and all of a sudden the thought of losing him filled her with terror. Not that she would admit to being terrified; she’d sooner respond with anger, because that was so much safer. It made her look so much less vulnerable. And Kate Andrews did not like to look vulnerable at all.

‘If my life is the price…’ he began, but that was a sentence Kate had no intention of letting him finish.

‘You’re an able fighter,’ she said stubbornly. ‘You killed the bloody Defiler. Your life won’t be the price for anything. Live.’ _I’m not sure how well I could bear it if you didn’t_. Saying that however would make her look vulnerable, and so she ended the command in a quip. ‘That’s an order. From your queen.’

Thorin must be equally eager to drop the subject, for he smiled. ‘I weren’t aware you had any right to order me,’ he remarked.

‘This whole queen business was your idea,’ she countered. ‘I’m just making good use of it.’ She was not exactly making use of it, though, and she somehow seriously doubted if she could ever order Thorin Oakenshield into anything. And it would only be fair if she couldn’t; he had never really managed to command her to do anything either. It didn’t mean that she didn’t wish that she could order him to stay alive. Of course Thorin was a capable fighter – she had seen him, no doubts in that area – but the book had a remarkable and rather alarming tendency of coming true all on its own, without any help from her or that bloody wizard that she still didn’t trust for the full hundred per cent. ‘And right now I’m ordering us to go and see what that annoying elf has to say. He gets terribly annoyed if you make him wait too long, you know.’

There was after all a good chance that this had nothing to do whatsoever with battles to be fought and won at too high a cost.

 

***

 

Thorin was silent for the remainder of the walk, but it mattered not; his companion didn’t have anything to say either. It wasn’t anger that fed her silence, though. If that had been the case, he would have felt it. Kate’s anger radiated off her, all but making the air around her simmer with the force of it. This wasn’t like that, but it wasn’t a positive thing either. There was something that made her forehead wrinkle in a frown and eyes look unseeing to the road ahead. He couldn’t say what it was, not exactly.

And he was hardly in a mood to guess, not when she had uttered one of his worst fears. He may not have lost his mind – and Maker be praised for that – but that did not mean that none of the rest would come to pass. And even though it had been a while since he had read the book, he remembered what happened after Dáin’s arrival. And an approaching army of orcs would suffice to make even Gandalf nervous. He couldn’t think of anything else that it could possibly be.

And he had meant what he said to Kate. He was not afraid for himself, was not afraid of dying. He didn’t think he had ever been after Azanulbizar. And there was no shame in falling in battle, as he had told her. The thing he had not told her was that he would regret it if he did. Before now there had been kin, and duty, to make him want to live, but if he passed away, someone else would take up his duty and his kin would mourn him and go on. He was not indispensable. He now had the strange feeling that he was indispensable to someone. _Could you for heaven’s sake try to be a bit more concerned with your own survival, even if only for my sake?_ It was true Kate style, but she cared. And he had been mistaken in the depth of her feelings before, but he was not so now. She had told him, on a windy and icy mountainside, that she would give up every chance of something resembling a “normal life” in her own world because she had chosen to stay here. She may have brothers, but they were not what tied her to Middle Earth. Only this morning had she told him that she was not her father and that she would not leave.

‘Listen,’ Kate suddenly spoke up when they caught sight of the door at the end of the tunnel. ‘I didn’t meant to be snappy and unkind. It’s just…’ She swallowed. ‘I’m not good with words. Well, I usually am, but not when it comes to this, so I’m only going to say it once, and I’ll not be repeating myself. I love you. I care a ridiculous lot about you, probably more than is healthy at any rate. And I don’t want to lose you. So, if this is what we’re both afraid of, can you do me the favour of not dying? Please?’

She may claim that she was no good with words when it came to these matters, but she was at least one step ahead of him when it came to speaking about them, for Thorin found that he could not. Words of affection did not come easy to him, and they often sounded wooden and formal, not the way he had meant them at all.

He had a slight suspicion that in this case an answer was required of him though. ‘I will try my hardest,’ he said curtly.

Kate understood what he was trying to say all the same. ‘That’s all I ask.’ The half-smile that accompanied her words was half-hearted though, and it didn’t quite chase away the worry, maybe even fear, in her eyes. ‘But there may not even be a battle,’ she reminded him. ‘Who knows what Elvaethor has got to say.’

Who knew indeed. By now Thorin knew better than to trust what that elf said – and his rather intimate ways of dealing with his bride-to-be still set Thorin’s teeth on edge – but maybe it was that affection towards Kate that would make him help them once again; after all, he had displayed a certain interest in her from the first time he had laid eyes on her. And Kate herself had grown to trust him. As for the King under the Mountain himself, he didn’t think he could ever fully trust any elf. Thranduil had at least made sure of that.

The elf himself was already waiting when they arrived. He must have run most of the way before climbing the makeshift ladder that ended in the valley below, which saved him the bother of taking the much longer – and, in Thorin’s opinion, safer – route over the ledge. There was sense in the plan, though; it allowed him to bring them their provisions much faster than it would have gone had he taken the longer route.

‘As quickly as we could,’ Kate told him when she greeted him. Elvaethor seemed to have gone for a kiss on the cheek as a greeting of his own, but changed it to a slightly more decent hug when he caught the dwarf king’s positively murderous glance. He didn’t know if Kate had shared with him the particulars about his jealousy or that the elf just had good instincts, but it did not really matter; he got the message. ‘Now, what was all that strange behaviour at the meeting supposed to mean? I swear, you looked like you had seen a ghost.’

Thorin himself would not immediately jump to such a conclusion, but even he could see that the former captain of the guard did not look like his cheerful and annoying self. If there was any name for the expression on his face, he would have to settle for grim. Elves were not generally in the habit of frowning, but that appeared to be what this particular elf was doing now. It was almost as if he was worried, but Thorin almost immediately dismissed that fanciful thought. There were limits to elves’ sympathy. Worry for dwarves did not come into it.

‘It may be better if you sit down, Queen Kate,’ the elf said. He’d greeted Thorin with a curt nod of the head, and thankfully refrained from inviting him to sit down as well.

‘Kate,’ she said. ‘Just Kate. And I think I’d like to remain standing, if it’s all the same to you. Now, what’s wrong?’

Maybe he should have been annoyed that Kate took the lead in this conversation when he was the king, but he found he could not be bothered. At least she managed to remain civil to him, something Thorin had great difficulty with. And since they could not afford to alienate the one elvish ally they had, he preferred to listen, unless it was required of him to speak. He’d give the elf a piece of his mind when all was done and dusted, if by then he was still alive to do so, that was.

‘You have been betrayed,’ he said bluntly.

It was quite a change from those cryptic words he usually spoke and therefore it took a few seconds for the words to really sink in, but when they had it was as if he had been hit with a sledgehammer to the chest. It should not have come as a surprise, not truly. He had known since Rivendell that someone had not been as discreet as they ought to have been, that someone had so little regard for kin that they had run to Azog with information of the quest and the members of the company, going by the fact that the Defiler seemed to have known exactly who Kíli was when there should have been no way that he would ever learn such information. _Someone must have run to the orcs to tell them about the quest_ , Kate had said. Her knowledge about this subject may have been scanty, but it was a conclusion Thorin had reached for himself before long. There was only so much coincidence before it became something else entirely, and he had seen too many coincidences for him to believe this was just that.

He did not suspect the company. He would rather cut off his sword arm before he believed treason from any of them. Most of his companions were kin, people he had known for most of his life. But there were other people. There had been a lot of people at the meeting in the Ered Luin, where he had revealed that he had his heart set on reclaiming Erebor for Durin’s Folk. They had refused him the aid he believed he was owed – ‘If you had set your heart on slaying Durin’s Bane and reclaiming Khazad-dûm, it could not be a greater folly than this quest you have in mind,’ someone had said, Thorin fortunately could not recall his name – but he had not doubted for even a single moment that they would keep quiet about his plans.

 _Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead,” said he to his companions, and knocked them on the head._ Another saying of Kate’s that rang too much with truth. For most of the quest he had not thought about the betrayal that he knew must have happened. No, that was not entirely true. He had forbidden himself from thinking about it, which was not quite the same thing. But it was the sensible thing to do, because he could not do anything about it while he was on the road, and it wouldn’t do to unsettle his men by telling them what he suspected. They may suspect it for themselves, but as long as it was not spoken about, it was something they could more or less ignore.

There would be no ignoring it now, not anymore. ‘Betrayed by whom?’ he demanded.

Elvaethor seemed taken by surprise. ‘You know of this?’

‘We have been suspecting it for a while now,’ Kate replied. ‘There were too many things that didn’t quite add up, too much to chalk it up to coincidence. We’ve never had any proof for it, though. I take it you have?’

She was rewarded for her question with a curt nod of the head, but he didn’t proceed with revealing the identity of the traitor, as Thorin had rather hoped he would do. ‘What “coincidences”?’

‘Azog tracking us down,’ Kate replied immediately. ‘We encountered him and his band of merry men on the road a couple of times, and he seemed to know exactly who we were and where we were. The quest was supposed to be a secret, so he couldn’t have found out on his own, not unless he was a psychic, which I don’t think he was.’

It grated on Thorin’s last nerve that the way in which she told this to the insect was the way in which they normally discussed the quest. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Kate regarded this elf a friend. ‘Do you have the identity of the traitor?’ he all but snapped. His well of patience was rapidly running dry, and it had not been very full to start with. Elvaethor was stalling and he had no patience for it.

‘Lady Galadriel believes that Lord Nói is…’ Elvaethor began, but Thorin was no longer listening. He was lost in memories.

For a moment it was as if he was back in the halls of the Ered Luin, attending a meeting that had just gone horribly wrong as kingdom after kingdom refused to come to his aid. Of course none of them had admitted outright that they were too cowardly to undertake the quest and restore the greatest dwarf kingdom still remaining in this age. They found nice words, laced with a dragon’s own cunning. Dragon-tongued, dwarves tended to call those few of their race that did deal in verbal backstabbing and subtle word games. How strange that that most of that sort of dwarves found themselves in ruling positions. Thorin himself didn’t have the stomach for it and he had been burning with rage he could barely contain when the meeting was finally concluded and he had learned that there was no way he would get the help he so desired, so _needed_.

He had been distracted when a tankard of ale had almost literally been shoved under his nose. ‘You look like a dwarf who could use a drink.’

Thorin accepted the tankard with a curt nod, and even thanked the other dwarf for his troubles. He would never admit to it, but he _did_ need the drink, if only to drown the overwhelming disappointment that he felt. He didn’t know his name, though. Thorin believed he had seen him with Dáin’s retinue, but he wasn’t certain. Since he had not spoken, he had not been granted Thorin’s undivided attention.

‘No matter,’ the dwarf said. ‘Nói, son of Bori, at your service.’

‘Thorin, son of Thráin, at yours.’ It were those polite pleasantries that meant nothing. This Nói likely already knew who he was.

‘Aye, I know,’ Nói said. He took a gulp of ale. ‘You spoke well at the meeting.’

 _Not well enough, it would seem_. The disappointment turned his thoughts bitter and resentful. These envoys had come from all over the world, undertaking an enormous journey only to come and tell him that they would have no part in his quest. Could he truly be blamed for having expected something more after all the trouble they had taken in coming here, all this way? He rather thought that he had been more than justified in his expectations. And it was hardest to bear from Dáin. He had made a name for himself on the battlefield of Azanulbizar, had been hailed a hero after. Dáin was no coward, and he was kin. Moreover, he was kin with the command over an army. To hear the _no_ from him had been an answer that had been very hard to swallow. If his cousin would not come to his aid, who would? As it turned out, the answer to that question was no one.

Nevertheless, Nói was paying him a genuine compliment and he thanked him for it, keeping his bitterness to himself. He was not in the habit of discussing his personal business with strangers, and for all intents and purposes this Nói was a stranger to him.

As it was, he hardly needed to contribute to the conversation; this Nói fellow was one who just liked the sound of his own voice, and he had a lot to say. ‘Right shame, that meeting,’ he commented. ‘The Maker is like as not tearing his own beard out over it, lamenting that we have gone positively mannish in our ways. Have we all forgotten that kin should stick with kin? Have their loyalties become as fickle as the elves’?’

From the way he was talking it was clear that he did not expect a real answer from his partner of conversation. He just needed someone to vent his rage to, and in Thorin he found a willing listener, for he had plenty of rage himself, and it was good to find someone who at least sympathised, someone who wasn’t close kin.

‘If it’d been up to me, you’d have the armies now to attack that drake,’ Nói finished in a dark mutter. ‘By rights of kin and loyalty they should have been yours. They should have stood by their oaths.’

So they should, but Thorin had enough unfortunate experiences with people who went back on their word to have any faith left in most oaths, but he could not deny that Nói’s words had only served to strengthen his resolve to go and reclaim his home. And today, at the meeting in the tent, Thorin had been grateful to him again, since he was the only dwarf in Dáin’s entourage not openly frowning at Kate, something that must not have passed her by.

‘That makes me feel sick,’ she commented, looking truly disgusted. ‘The only person in that thrice-damned company of Dáin’s that I actually like, and he turns out to be a traitor. I don’t even want to know what that says about me and my taste in picking friends. Ugh.’ She grimaced.

Thorin could not have phrased it better if he tried, but there was anger boiling underneath the surface and it was growing in strength. It was rapidly growing into a fire that may prove to be inextinguishable. _If it’d been up to me, you’d have the armies now to attack that drake,_ Nói had told him. Had that been a lie? Was he actually one that had a hand in withholding the armies that should have been Thorin’s? It did not sound like such an impossibility now.

What was strange, the only thing that made him pause before the fury could get the upper hand, was his incredulity at finding out that he immediately believed the pointy-eared redhead, even before he had finished his sentence. Was that a sign that he was starting to accept that maybe Elvaethor really meant the best for this company? He couldn’t tell, not for sure. Still, there were the facts to be taken into consideration. He had lost his position over this quest, all to help dwarves, that he could not possibly care about. And he had kept them alive throughout the siege, had made sure that they were still strong enough to keep going. As much as he hated this knowledge, and hate it he did, he had to accept the simple facts.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked for good measure.

The elf was quick in his answer. ‘The Lady Galadriel has looked into his mind and heart. There is darkness there, and knowledge of some plot that she has chosen not to reveal to me, not before she knows more.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘She fears that we may not yet have seen the last of his treason, nor do we know the full scale of it.’

‘As if him making nice with Azog wasn’t bad enough,’ Kate muttered angrily. Her hands were clenching and unclenching constantly, almost as if it was something that happened without her noticing. ‘What a bloody mess this is. And what are we supposed to do? We can’t let him go on betraying only God knows what to… Good grief, I don’t even know who he would be telling all that stuff to now that Azog is dead!’

‘His son.’ The words came out of Thorin’s mouth, but his thoughts were miles ahead. All of a sudden Kate’s book made perfect sense. Because in the book Azog had been dead long before the quest had even begun. In the book it was Azog’s son Bolg who had led the orc armies into battle, the battle that would be known as the Battle of the Five Armies. And in killing Azog the Defiler, Thorin had given the Defiler’s spawn the perfect excuse for a mission of vengeance.

He exchanged a glance with Kate. Her eyes had widened considerably, and she was deathly pale. It was that communication without words again, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. ‘It all fits,’ she whispered. ‘Good grief, it all fits.’

Thorin was pleased to note that just for once Elvaethor didn’t have a clue as to what they were talking about. Apparently Gandalf’s instruction had not included any knowledge of the book. And it was a secret that was best kept very tightly, because if it ever became known that the woman most were now coming to know as Queen Kate had knowledge of things that had yet to pass, she might be in very real danger.

Kate didn’t seem to agree. ‘I think we may have to anticipate a battle in the very near future,’ she told the elf bluntly.

‘Do you know something I do not, Queen Kate?’ The elf was frowning in what appeared to be suspicion.

‘It’s just logical thinking,’ she insisted, thankfully leaving the book out of it. ‘If Nói goes and bleats the fact that Thorin killed Azog to Bolg, how well do you think that will go over? Wars have been fought for less, and Azog began this whole feud against Durin’s line over the death of _his_ father after all.’

Elvaethor seemed to miss out on the very obvious fact that Nói could not possibly know that Thorin had killed Azog, which would kill Kate’s sound reasoning instantly.

Or not. Maybe he simply knew something they did not. ‘I told him prior to the meeting how valiant I thought you,’ the elf said to Thorin, looking properly terrified, which was quite uncharacteristic for him. ‘I cited your victory over Azog as a reason to do so.’

Normally Thorin might have been astounded at the very idea that any elf, and this elf in particular, would speak well of him to others – he could not remember if such a thing had ever even happened before – but not today. Today it only felt as if Elvaethor personally had written his signature underneath all their death warrants.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Not in my wildest dreams could I ever have predicted that this would be how the battle would come about. I’m trying to hang onto the hope that we do not yet know for certain that there even will be a battle, but it all feels wrong. And this blasted book has the habit to come true. Is there anything I could do at all? What use will I have been if this happens all the same?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading again. It really means a lot that people are enjoying the story.   
> Next time: the full extent of Nói’s treason becomes clear.  
> Please review?


	79. Winds of War

_That was a very unpleasant thing to realise. In fact, I think I came closer to wanting to slap Elvaethor than I had been even when I first met him and he annoyed the hell out of me. Granted, his intentions were good and he never even meant for anything to go wrong. After all, it wasn’t as if he had deliberately sold our secrets to an enemy. He didn’t know Nói was even an enemy and he certainly didn’t know that Thorin’s slaying of Azog was a secret. We hadn’t treated it like one. Thorin was proud of it, as he had every right to be, for it was a great victory._

_Having said that, Elvaethor had done us a disservice, even if he hadn’t realised it for even a second. We weren’t to know what Nói had thought up or even why he was doing this. I think I can safely say that by then I had learned a thing or two about dwarves and how they view the world, so I was fairly certain that loyalty was something that was important. Really, it was with all of the races. Kill another race all you want, and you’ll probably get a war for your troubles, but murder one of your own race, and you’ll have the whole world being utterly disgusted. The killing of one’s own, and the betrayal that would lead to such a horrible thing, are possibly the worst crimes one could commit. Consequently Nói would have had a very good reason for acting as he did._

_The thing was that we simply did not know it. None of us even remotely knew the guy, and the one that we could safely say did know him, would probably not take kindly to us calling him a traitor, especially not when we inevitably would have to admit that we only had come to this particular conclusion on the say-so of an elf, belonging to the very people who were currently besieging the Mountain, in short: the very ones who would benefit from strife in our midst. Suffice it to say that I have been in less complicated situations than that one._

_Trapped between a rock and a hard place, that was what we were. It would be the height of folly to actually leave Nói to conduct his business in peace, since that was sure to be our doom if we let him, but neither could we march in and demand of Dáin that he imprisoned one of his most trusted advisors. Things were tense enough after he had met me and we were not exactly champing at the bit to really give him a good excuse for leaving. No, if we wanted to prevent disaster from rearing its ugly head, we had to be clever._

_And believe it or not, my dears, your mother can be rather clever. Unfortunately that cleverness – or maybe I should call it cunning; it’s probably more accurate – only selectively makes appearances. It was me who came up with the idea to invite Nói in after the negotiations had been concluded the following day under the pretence that Thorin wanted him to have a look at the battlements and ask whether or not they could withstand an attack. He had managed to remember the obscure little bit of information that his craft was masonry when he wasn’t smarming his way around Dáin, and the question would probably not raise suspicion. And he was almost certain to take the bait. And at least we could lock him up and have him out of the way and tell Dáin that he was helping us to strengthen the defences._

_Those were a lot of lies and I am none too proud of them – and believe me when I say that your father only agreed to the scheme with the utmost reluctance, although Elvaethor was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic – but we had very little choice in the matter. And after Elvaethor’s news we all believed that we were starting to run out of time. And true, this was the best option open to us._

_Unfortunately, things in real life do not always go the way you want them to…_

 

It was a few hours before dawn when Thorin gave up his attempts to find some rest that night. He had lain awake all night, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm himself enough so that he may sleep for a few hours. He could very ill afford to be anything less than alert during the negotiations that were scheduled to take place a few hours after dawn, especially now that the stakes had been raised and it had become a far more dangerous game than he could ever have anticipated. Yes, he had known that he had been betrayed, but if he had to make a guess – and even though he had not wished to suspect anyone, he had fallen for the temptation of wondering and guessing all the same – he would have suspected a clan with which his people were less than friendly. Never once had he suspected that one of Durin’s Folk would turn on him. And for what reason? What had he ever done to Nói that he was now to be treated thus?

Kate had fallen asleep a few hours ago. She had said that she wanted to stay awake with him, but her body had won out over her mind’s resolve eventually. Her eyes had fluttered shut and had not opened since, and Thorin was loath to wake her. She needed all the rest she could get. And he drew some comfort from her presence. It was better to have her near than to have her on the other side of the room, sleeping between her brothers during the night, avoiding him during the day.

Now her head was lying on his chest, hair already escaping from the braid she had put in it. Some things were unchanged and were unlikely to ever change, and Thorin was glad of it, because he could no longer be certain that the rest of his world would remain that unchangeable. Elvaethor’s words strictly speaking had not changed anything; they had only given him awareness of what was going on. Nevertheless he feared the consequences of what had been discussed.

He had not been crippled by gold madness, for which he could only thank the Maker most sincerely, but would he now become a liar and a dwarf with elvish mannerisms? He prided himself in being true to his word, to be honest and straightforward, character traits that were valued highly among his people, and the very thought of tricking Dáin into thinking that he had no ill intentions towards Nói repulsed him. Rather he would have admitted the truth of the matter and solve things that way, but Kate had been right: Dáin would never believe it.

And so he had to resort to elvish and mannish ways. Kate and Elvaethor had seemed to experience none of the reluctance he felt when they had been scheming and plotting how to pull it off. They even seemed to be somewhat enthusiastic about it, something Thorin did not quite understand. Oh, he was no stranger to scheming, not really. Had he not known how to, he would not have made it this far. It was the cold-heartedness of it. And so, instead of participating in the discussion, he had mostly watched and given the plan his blessing.

‘You really ought to be asleep at this hour,’ a sleepy voice observed, slurring with sleep.

‘It is of no matter,’ Thorin told her. ‘Go back to sleep. It will not be dawn for a few hours more.’

‘Practise what you preach is the saying,’ Kate countered. He should have known better than to command her to do anything by now. It was of no use. ‘What particular problem is it that has you scowling at the ceiling so fiercely that I shouldn’t be surprised if it caved in on our heads from the force of it?’

‘It is of no consequence to you,’ he said, not wishing to share with her what was on his mind, because it wouldn’t please her. Kate was a woman of Men, and she had not displayed any remorse over their current course of action. For all that he loved her, there were things in which their races differed, and he was not sure that she would understand.

‘You know, the last time that I thought such a thing, we had the biggest row we’ve ever had,’ she commented, voice hushed as to not to wake any of the others. ‘I thought that keeping quiet about my doubts about my abilities as a queen and my missing my family would be better, since I didn’t think you’d understand any of it. The only thing I actually achieved with it was that you misunderstood and we didn’t talk for weeks after. If we’re to do better than my parents – which, I admit, shouldn’t be too much of an achievement considering the mess they’ve made of their marriage – we should at least… well, you know, communicate. Talk about things.’

Maybe she was right, but he did not feel like talking, not now, not when his thoughts were still so disorganised. ‘You’re awfully loquacious for one only just awake,’ he pointed out, hoping to change the subject.

‘I’ve been awake for a while,’ Kate retorted. ‘You were so deep in thought you didn’t even notice. So, something’s wrong.’

‘Nói,’ he replied. It wasn’t the complete truth, but neither was it a lie. An elvish practise to be sure; they too said yes and no in the same sentence and no one was any the wiser for it. How Thranduil would laugh if he knew.

He felt more than he saw that Kate nodded. ‘Our traitor,’ she said. ‘I still can’t believe that the only one who even liked me is the very one to betray us now. On the other hand, he would benefit from it if he won our trust by being nice. I feel like such a fool.’

It was not what he had meant when he had mentioned Nói’s name, but he went along with it all the same, because it was safer to discuss that than his doubts about her ways. They were too alien, and she would not understand his concerns. She would only narrow her eyes, demand to know what the point was he was trying to make, before reminding him that she could not feel particularly sorry about tricking someone who would have them all killed if only given the slightest opportunity.  And she would be right in that thinking, but Thorin was more concerned with Dáin. Coward in the face of the threat of a dragon though he was, he was also an ally he could ill afford to lose. And if he was to make Dáin see that Nói was indeed a traitor – something he did most sincerely not doubt – then he would need evidence, more evidence than he currently was in the possession of.

‘You should not feel that way,’ he told Kate.

‘Irrational, yes. I know.’ She wriggled herself into a more comfortable position on her side, head resting on her hands, looking at him. ‘But, you know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being on this quest, it’s that people are seldom entirely rational, especially when it comes to people.’ He could see her grin. ‘It’s not as if you and I are great examples of rationality, after all.’

Honesty demanded that he agreed with her, but Thorin had never been one to admit that he had been wrong about anything. He saved admissions like that for special occasions. ‘Is that a confession you’re making?’

Kate chuckled, voice hushed still. Not that she needed to; the others were snoring loud enough to block out most of the noise she was making. ‘Imagine Thorin Oakenshield being wrong about anything.’ But it was teasing now, not the cold anger that had been dominating her voice for the past few weeks. It was a relief to know that this was at least good, even if the rest of his world was threatening to fall apart. ‘Not a day I’d like to see,’ she added.

Curiosity triggered, he turned on his own side to face her. ‘Why is that?’

The smile she directed at him was nothing short of cheeky. ‘Quite possibly because that’s the day the world will end,’ she remarked.

The look on her face betrayed that she had known in advance he would be unable to stop himself from asking her what she meant, meaning he had played right into her hands. It was the very thing he despised in the elves, what he hated about the scheming she had done with Elvaethor the previous day. But he only hated it because it was malicious then, because it reminded him of backstabbing and betrayal. But this was teasing, familiar and in a strange way reassuring. Not that he would be heard to say that anytime soon. It would mean that he would have to admit to having been unnerved in the first place. And he could not afford to be seen as weak, not now.

‘I do admit it when I am wrong,’ he contradicted.

Kate gave him a look. ‘I beg to differ.’

He smirked at her. ‘I am never wrong, is all.’

The resulting chuckle she smothered against his chest to prevent the others from waking. It was a relief to have this, to have her back again. It reminded him of Mirkwood in so many ways. They had been bantering then as well, even though the situation had been far from perfect. It was as easy as breathing, as it should be. Maybe the hobbit had been more observant than Thorin had given him credit for when he had remarked to Kate that the two of them worked better as a team.

It would seem the hobbit was more valuable in general, he pondered when he collected his breakfast from Bombur a few hours later. Thorin had thought him a burden, a liability and in short a very incapable burglar, yet he had pulled his own weight during the quest, had saved him from Azog when he had been rendered useless, had smuggled the entire company out of Mirkwood and had given him the Arkenstone to prove the point that he was no liability at all. Kate had been right about the halfling at least, whereas he had been wrong.

Come to think of it, he had been wrong about her as well. Not about her temper – which still was as fiery and easily triggered as it had ever been – but about her value to the quest at least. Much as he hated to admit it, even in the privacy of his own mind, maybe the wizard had known what he was doing when he recruited the hobbit and the woman for the quest. And that was a reason to be grateful to him, even if he would never admit to being exactly that. Question remained of course whether or not Gandalf had intended for Kate and him to end up the way they had. For some reason he rather doubted it; the wizard didn’t have an ounce of romance in his body, like Kate had once said, and probably wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in his long nose.

He also wondered whether or not the grey wizard had foreseen the situation they were dealing with now. Kate insisted that he had been in her world at the very least, but she didn’t think he had seen the movie – as she called it; Thorin was still at a loss what he should think that was – which dealt with one version of their story, but he knew the book’s contents for sure. The thing was that nothing in the book had as much as suggested that there was a traitor among his own people.

‘You’re brooding,’ Kate remarked as she joined him. She had a bowl of porridge, but she wasn’t eating from it, which suggested that she was nervous, again. It had been like that for a while when she was getting worked up over something, a newfound habit that by the looks of it had not escaped Dori’s notice either.

‘You should eat,’ he told her, side-stepping her comment, which they both knew to be true anyway.

‘Not hungry,’ she told him. ‘It’ll be better once we have Nói in the deepest dungeon you can think of and we can actually get those pesky elves away from our gates. As it is, I think my stomach is too full with nerves for anything else to fit in it.’ She leaned closer. ‘And do please spare me the lecture about not feeding myself; I’ve already had it from Bombur and Dori. Once we’re back and we’re actually still in one piece, you may have the privilege of reminding me to actually eat.’

He did understand; his own appetite seemed to have greatly lessened, but unlike her, he could handle it. Kate was still as frail as when he had first met her – maybe even more so – even though she demonstrated strength of mind. Still, he complied with her request. ‘What dress will Dori make you wear today?’

Kate arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Beg pardon? Are we discussing fashion now? Who are you and what have you done with Thorin Oakenshield?’

‘You wanted to change the subject,’ he told her. The banter was all Mirkwood behaviour: laughter and jokes in the face of things they both dreaded. It alleviated the tension somewhat, and for that he was grateful.

‘Well… yes. I just… You just managed to surprise me, is all.’ She certainly sounded it. ‘So, to answer your question, I’m not wearing a dress today.’

Now it was Thorin’s turn to be surprised. ‘You are not?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Not today. It just doesn’t feel right. It’s not who I am. Anyway, it’s not as if Thranduil will suddenly like me better if I show up in a stunning gown, and the same is true for Lord Erland. As it is, my not wearing a dress might be a boon. At least he won’t stare at my bosom quite so much.’

Thorin had noticed that tendency of Erland’s to do exactly that the previous day, and it set his teeth on edge. Still, Kate’s current attire didn’t seem like something one would wear to a meeting of such magnitude. She wore those blue trousers from her own world and a tunic she had acquired in Rivendell. She still had the boots she had purchased in Bree and the grey cloak that really looked like it was made for someone taller, with broader shoulders than the company advisor could boast. It was not something a queen would wear to a meeting. On the other hand, it was an outfit Kate Andrews would wear when on a mission.

He gave a curt nod to tell her that he would not fight her on this. Beautiful though the dresses may be, Thorin would not deny that they were a little distracting as well. That was another thought that would never cross his lips, though. And it was as if the Kate he knew had somewhat faded away a little when she was not looking like her usual self, more like a queen and less like the woman he had come to know. And he needed Kate beside him today, not Queen Catherine.

‘No protest from you?’ she asked warily. ‘Good. Because I’m sure I’ll get a hell of a lot from Dori when he finds out. Speaking of which, could you maybe fix my hair for me today? I’d ask Dori to do it, but he seems to define brushing hair as pulling hair, and I’m sure I’ll be bald before long if I let him handle a comb near my hair one more time.’

‘You are not afraid of what people will say?’ he inquired, remembering a time when he had offered to do exactly this and she had refused because of the things people might be thinking. He hadn’t offered since.

‘Turns out they were right to suspect something after all,’ Kate shrugged. ‘And it’s not as if they don’t know that by now. And I was asking.’

So she was. Things had changed more than he had thought then. Dori hadn’t changed much at all, though. He made quite the scene when he found out that Kate was about to go and cause diplomatic scandal by showing up so poorly dressed – ‘Dori, honestly, if they haven’t keeled over dead at the very thought that I’ve married Thorin, I don’t think my lack of fashion sense is going to send them into a state of shock, don’t you think?’ Kate countered – and Thorin was forced to actually pull rank by explaining that he was the King under the Mountain and he did not have a problem with Kate’s clothing, and he had the final say after all. As a result he rather thought he might forego the whole business with Balin pulling his hair; it was not as if anyone could actually see the difference. A right shame it was that Balin didn’t fall for that excuse.

The thing was that he had never truly felt like a king. A leader, aye, that he was. A crowned king with a kingdom to rule, that he wasn’t. And Kate’s idea of not dressing the part actually did make him feel more like himself. Not that he would walk into that meeting looking like a beggar, not by any stretch of the imagination, but as Thorin Oakenshield, the person he truly was. The guise of a king, even though he was one by right, had felt too much like a persona he had nothing in common with. He had been a travelling blacksmith for too long. And he knew what it was to look after the people that followed him, but the trappings of being a king in the truest sense of the word, that he knew nothing about.

And so he ignored the positively scandalous look most of the elves threw him when he entered, although Kate got the bulk of the attention.

‘Whatever happened to the dress, my lady?’ Elvaethor asked, as always the boldest, when he escorted them in, as he had done the day before. And it stopped Thorin from exploding in a truly unkingly fashion when he realised that it was honest confusion that made him ask.

‘It wasn’t working for me,’ Kate replied airily. ‘And it’s not as if people could like me any less for it, given the fact that I appear to be so well disliked already.’

‘Which demonstrates a common lack of judgement,’ the elf said, still flattering her at every turn, Thorin noticed with disapproval.

But Elvaethor’s behaviour was not his biggest concern. It was not even Kate’s clothing that was the problem, he realised when he entered the tent only to find it positively devoid of Gandalf’s presence. Thorin had been worrying about a lot of things – they had kept him up during the night after all – but the wizard’s disappearance was the worst of it, and that he could not even have predicted. It was not, he admitted, as if Gandalf had been such a help during these negotiations, but he could at least count on him to have an interest in a strong and restored Erebor. He kept things civil during the talks, was a soothing presence. And of course Thorin could be relied upon to conclude his own business without the wizard holding his hand every step of the way, but he found that his absence made him feel like he was thrown in front of a pack of hungry wargs without as much as a sword to defend himself.

‘Where is the wizard?’ he demanded curtly, snapping the words to mask his own unease.

‘Off on wizard business, no doubt,’ Thranduil replied easily, clearly far too pleased with Gandalf’s absence. Well, he would be. Gandalf was no doubt the only reason he had been on his best behaviour – or what counted as his best behaviour anyway, which was something entirely different than how most people would define it – during the negotiations so far. The Lady Galadriel might have done something to do with it as well, but about her he was not so certain. He had not even heard her speak yesterday.

‘A shame,’ Kate observed. ‘I had rather hoped he would be here today. Is there any knowing when he might be back?’ She appeared calm, but Thorin had the benefit of knowing her, and there was tension in her shoulders, and that alert look in her eyes that he knew only too well. This was Kate Andrews preparing for a fight, a battle of wits, the likes of which he had seen before and that were not queenly in the slightest.

‘None whatsoever,’ Thranduil informed her gleefully, as in so far an elf could truly be accused of being gleeful about anything. ‘But I trust that you do not need him to speak for you?’

‘I can speak for myself,’ Kate said, sending her second-best death glare at the elf king. Her best no doubt would have no doubt caused war. ‘But I must admit to relying on Gandalf for making sure you keep a civil tongue in your mouth. Or what passes as civil with you anyway.’

It was not wise of her to say this, Thorin knew. There was no doubt that Kate also knew this. But she had been right about something as well. The odds were already against them, and there was no doubt about the question whether Thranduil could like her less than he did already. And this was Kate fighting, tooth and nail, for something she held dear. It was not his way to fight as she did, but he found he could condone it.

And there were worse things he had to concern himself with than Thranduil’s clear lack of respect for people other than himself. He had seen Nói the moment he entered, still behaving as if he was as harmless as he wanted to make them all believe, but Thorin no longer fell for it. He knew better now. Nevertheless he had forced himself to act nicely, even if it went against the grain.

‘Are you insulting me?’ the elf asked, fury sparking in his eyes.

 _You would have known if she did_ , Thorin thought.

‘Not in the slightest,’ Kate assured him. ‘I am merely stating a fact. I think your conduct in your own halls was not civil at all, and I rather like the idea of not having to be subjected to such things again. I’m sure you can understand.’ She added a pointed look. ‘But I do believe this was not why we are gathered here today, is it not?’

Several people seemed to be on the verge of saying something, most of it not polite. Kate had somehow drawn all the attention away from him, drawing it towards herself, saying things he could not say. He wanted to say them, true enough, but he was the King under the Mountain and he could not be as free with his words as he would like to be. Kate was to be believed to be a simple girl from a place far in the west that no one had ever heard of. When she said the things she said, people could always say that she could hardly be expected to conform to traditions and etiquette, since she had not grown up with them as they had. In the meantime, the things that needed saying were said. And it was only then that Thorin truly saw her value in all of this madness. He admired her for it.

But this was not the time or the place for either him to appreciate the future Queen under the Mountain or for the elves to criticise her, because the tent flap was all but pulled loose from the rest of the tent as Gandalf stormed in. This would have been a relief, had Thorin not noticed the positively horrified look on the wizard’s face. Something was wrong, and suddenly it was all too easy to imagine what that something would be.

 

***

 

The change of clothes had been a good plan, Kate reflected, and she certainly felt more like herself for it. It made her feel like she was still partly that old Kate Andrews, the one who had been abducted from her own world – very much against her will – and who was raising merry hell about it. It was the Kate Andrews who was rude and angry. There was true anger at being so wronged, and at the same time there was anger to mask how scared she was. And she didn’t mind, because it was who she was, and it was liberating. Good heaven, it was so liberating. She found she could actually breathe freely again, even in the face of the threats they were now confronted with. It still was frightening, but there was also comfort to be found in the knowledge that nothing she did or said – and certainly nothing in what she wore – would make any difference in the minds of the people she was going up against. Manners were not going to help them here. They could only hope to outmanoeuvre them, and she felt most confident in her own abilities if she was just herself. Kate Andrews, formerly from England, future wife of Thorin Oakenshield, loud-mouthed, angry, loyal and an English woman in a completely different world than her own. She had tried to conform to the customs here, and found herself failing, not to mention that she became increasingly irritated with them, It just was not who she was and she ought to never have tried to be someone she was not in the first place.

And so the dresses had to go. If they made it through this, it was obvious that she could not disregard dress codes entirely, but she would for now. The next thing to get thrown out of the window was her attempt at trying to act like a queen. She had no idea how to be one, and she started to fear she was sounding more like some character out of a Jane Austen novel then herself. Plus she was not sure if anyone was even buying her deception, and so she had dropped the act. She felt better for it.

If she was really honest, she would also have to admit that Thranduil’s expression of complete and utter shock was totally worth her efforts. He had been staring at her, as if he was trying to make sense of her, searching for some ulterior motive in her change of clothing. Really, he ought not to have been shocked; he had seen her in similar attire when she had been led before his court, and he had not made a point of it then. Truth be told, she may even have looked worse then, wounded and dirty after a fight and weeks on the road. Of course now the circumstances were a little different.

Still, she relished in having her enemies stare at her like that. It was a lot better than the less than flattering looks directed at her bosom had been. What a change could be in change of clothes she could not have anticipated, but she felt so much more comfortable now. Maybe she was not as polite as she should have been, but she had not exactly been polite the previous day either, and they had not descended into diplomatic meltdown then. Surely that must be a good sign.

And it seemed as if Thranduil was very intent on giving her a reason to lose her temper all over again. For all she knew he even had a hand in Gandalf’s absence; he was pleased enough with it. Still, she didn’t think the wizard’s disappearing act had anything to do with the elf king, but more with something Lady Galadriel had found out about Nói. _She fears that we may not yet have seen the last of his treason, nor do we know the full scale of it_ , Elvaethor had warned them, and Kate was not in a hurry to forget it. What exactly was it that Lady Galadriel suspected?

It was not all that hard to imagine that aforementioned lady had read her mind, because all of a sudden the elf’s gaze settled on her. _Beware, Catherine Andrews. This is more dangerous than you know._

Thranduil was still recovering from the last insult she had paid him, and so she had a little time to answer. _I think I know more than I want to already,_ she replied wryly. _And I am suspecting the rest. You know who I am and what Gandalf brought me here for, don’t you?_

The slightest of smiles appeared on Galadriel’s face. _Even you cannot foresee everything_.

And didn’t Kate know it all too well. _Whereas you can? You certainly don’t suffer from a low self-esteem, do you?_ She didn’t like all this cryptic nonsense. It wasn’t the kind of thing she could put up with. It made her feel as if Galadriel knew something that she certainly didn’t, and if there was one thing Kate Andrews hated, then it was not knowing. It had frustrated her more than once that she couldn’t predict what was ahead, and this was such a crazy roller coaster that she could not possibly make any sense of it. There was only danger. It felt like fighting against the tide. And that was a fight she could not possibly win.

She heard the laughter in her head. _No one can, Catherine Andrews_.

Kate shrugged mentally. _Maybe not. Thanks for the hint about Nói, by the way. We’ll deal with him as soon as we can. Anything more you can tell me about him, about what the hell he is up to? As I’m not a mind-reader, I don’t have a clue._

It was one of the strangest conversations she’d ever had, and she still wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with this way of communicating, but it got the job done, she supposed. As it was, she could hardly ask out loud whether or not Nói was up to more than they knew about already. Still, she wouldn’t be too grieved to see the last of the Lady Galadriel. True, she was on the good side, and she had fed them and thus saved the company from starvation. That was all undisputed, but Kate felt uneasy around her, as if all her secrets, every last thought was out there on the street for everyone to see. There were things she’d rather keep private, after all.

The elf lady side-stepped the question. _All will be revealed in time_. The evasion was as good a reply as any though.

Kate could feel a cold shiver going down her spine. _Thank you for the heads up_. She told herself that it was nothing she had not feared already, but it was a very unpleasant notion all the same. The Battle of the Five Armies. Could it really happen? Part of her had hoped that it wouldn’t happen, what with Azog being as dead as the proverbial doornail. Of course Bolg had to be taken into the equation, but none of the orcs had survived the fight and the forest fire, so no one could have reported back to Bolg about his father’s death, or the manner of aforementioned death. She should have realised though that the death of a dragon and the marching of armies on Erebor could not have gone unnoticed though.

But the how it was possible was the very least of her concerns. She was more preoccupied with the battle itself, because she didn’t think it would exactly be easy to do anything useful in it. Come to think of it, Thorin and Dori would not let her anywhere near it in all likelihood, citing her supposed lack of physical strength and absence of any useful skills with weapons as a reason to keep her well out of the fray. In truth, Kate had no ambition to be anywhere near a fight of that magnitude, but she also knew how likely it was for the book to come true on its own, without any help at all. And she knew only too well that there was nothing she could do to change Thorin’s fate when she was holed up in a Mountain.

 _Not now_ , she told herself, and fortunately Thranduil was as kind as to provide her with another opportunity to insult him. Well, she wasn’t really insulting him, she reasoned. She was only trying to teach him some much-needed manners, which was difficult enough for a man like him.

Still, her education was not appreciated, and she was sure he would have turned very nasty indeed if Gandalf had not chosen that exact moment to barge in, panic written all over his face now. He didn’t even need to speak for Kate to know what exactly he had seen that had made him do this imitation of a sheet in front of this entire gathering. Gandalf didn’t do panic. Kate knew that as a matter of fact. And really, she didn’t think she would ever see the sight that met her eyes now. He knew about the battle. He had read the book, of that she was absolutely certain. So, it didn’t make sense for him to be so unnerved by something he already knew. _Unless it’s far worse than we could have possibly imagined._

And it was. Gandalf’s voice seemed to come from afar when he detailed what he had seen and what the consequences would be for them. Armies marching on Erebor from the north. Countless orcs led by one they called Bolg. The wizard didn’t exactly say that they were out for vengeance, but Kate didn’t need to be told to know all the same.

‘Marching on Erebor?’ Galas echoed, dread written all over his face. For some reason Kate didn’t think he had ever seen a real battle, not if he was truly that frightened.

‘I believe so,’ Gandalf replied.

Kate shot a quick glance in Nói’s direction. It wouldn’t do to be caught actually staring at him, but she needed to see how he took this news. The answer was that he seemed to take it no better or worse than anyone else. Determination was on his face, but no fear. And determination could mean more than one thing. The thing was that she didn’t know him and she therefore had no idea what which expression meant. With a wry smile she realised just how attuned she had become to Thorin, who wasn’t exactly an open book himself, but who became easier to read by the week.

It seemed just so unlikely that Nói was their traitor, even more so because he had actually been nice to her, and that was a bloody hard thing to come by in the current company. But it was apparently the nice ones you had to watch out for. Because she did believe Elvaethor. If anything, he had some intuition – disregarding that blunder when they first met and he had assumed that Thorin was being violent to her – and Lady Galadriel would not make up something like that. Thranduil, yes, he would have invented such a story to cause strife among his enemies, but he had not been the one to tell them this.

‘Then we should leave,’ Thranduil’s nephew said. ‘It’s not our fight. It’s the dwarves they want.’ He all but pointed his finger in their direction.

And it did the job of making Kate mad well enough. ‘As much as it _thrills_ me to hear that you consider moving your cowardly arse back to Mirkwood, what exactly is it that makes you say that the orcs’ quarrel is with my people? Did you visit them and discuss all this over tea and biscuits, or are you a psychic now?’

That shut him well and truly up, giving Kate just enough time to look at Thorin. He was still standing next to her, and could have been frozen into rock for all Kate knew. She took his hand. Pathetic maybe, but she needed someone to hold on to. No one else in their senses would think that Thorin Oakenshield was scared, but she had been hanging around him for too long. Unlike the rest of the people in the tent, she knew how to read the signs. Probably he wasn’t terrified for himself – he had made that quite clear the other day – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. They both knew the book, they both knew how it was supposed to end.

 _To hell with it all_. Kate couldn’t say where the thought even came from, just that it was there. Since when had she let a book dominate her life? Was a book now going to tell her how she was supposed to deal with this? Was a book going to dictate that her husband-to-be would now die in a battle that was supposed to be only fictional, for heaven’s sake? Since when was she in the habit of doing as she was expected to anyway?

The truth was that she had never really listened. She had always made her own way, had always chosen her own path as in so far possible. And in Thorin she had found a kindred spirit, even if he had been a bit more vocal about not being used as a puppet on the strings of a bloody book. Had that not been the whole point of their changed route through Mirkwood to begin with?

They had known what would await them if they travelled the path Gandalf would have them take, or at least they had thought they had known, because they had no way of knowing that Gandalf had taken his own precautions in instructing Elvaethor to help out. But it was the idea that counted. They had thought that they knew what was ahead and, using that knowledge, had set out to change their route. Both of them had known that this route could be even more dangerous, but they were willing to try their luck, even if only to break free from the restraints of the book and prove that they could make their own destiny, no matter what people told them.

Admittedly there were not many ways to break free from the book this time. That army was coming, that was a given, and they would have to deal with it. And if she knew Thorin at all, he was not going to sit in the Mountain waiting until all was said and done, if Galas didn’t persuade the rest of the people here to run scared first anyway. Not that she believed that Gandalf was going to let them get away with that, but still. So yes, that army would come, but surely they could meet it on more fortunate terms than the book would have had them use? Surely they could meet them on their terms rather than on the orcs’?

Thorin ought to have gone in for mind-reading, she observed when she looked at him and he nodded. No doubt about that he knew exactly what was going in her head; she had a feeling that right this very moment, they were thinking the exact same thing. They were done letting others rule their lives. It was about time they got back in control.

‘I… didn’t…’  Galas sputtered.

‘Think?’ Kate supplied sweetly. ‘That thought had occurred to me, yes. Now I do wonder if maybe it has occurred to you that, even if we _are_ the intended target, do you really think orcs would pass up the opportunity to kill and mutilate some more? There’s a town of Men not too far off, and an elvish settlement close to that. Do you really think they’re going to wave a greeting and pass you by after they’re done with us? Orcs are seldom that obliging in my limited experience.’ Orcs and obliging, not two words she’d thought she would ever have used in the same sentence, except maybe when said sentence also included the word not, as she had just done.

If Thorin needed any further encouragement, she had just given it to him. ‘We can only triumph if we face them together.’ His words fell into silence; most people seemed to have lost the ability to form words around the time he started to speak. ‘If we give them the chance, they’ll pick us off one by one, but together we do have a chance.’

Kate was happy to let him take the lead; she’d said too much already. The annoying thing was that she usually only remembered that when the damage had already been done and she could do nothing to take her words back. She ought to try and remember though that Thorin was the actual king here, the one who could try and unite these people.

Galas was the first to find his voice. ‘Not so long ago you were threatening to wage war against us, and now you want us to fight with you?’ The incredulity was quite obvious in his voice. ‘Do you really think we would fall for so obvious a scheme, dwarf?’

Kate didn’t think he had much experience in the world at all. He sounded so young, so bloody naïve. Had he any idea what they were up against? Had he even seen a real orc before? Somehow she rather doubted it. Kate herself had only seen a small group of them – small in comparison with what they would soon face at least – but she thought that was more than enough to make her see just how horrible things might become if there was an entire army coming for them. She recalled a dream she had, back in Lake-town, where she had stood on the field of battle, amidst the corpses. If there was any chance that such horror could be prevented, should she not take it?

The general opinion was against them, though, and Lord Erland took the chance to speak up before Kate could forget her intention to let Thorin speak and tell Galas to get his head out of his arse and grow himself a brain before he could truly make a fool out of himself.

‘Lord Galas is right,’ the Master of Lake-town said. ‘How do we know that you will not betray us? Or side with the orcs?’

A more ridiculous notion had never been heard, and that was quite something, since Kate had been forced to listen to Erland’s babbling more times and for longer than she had ever imagined she had the patience for. Siding with the orcs, were they? What on earth was in that wine of his?

‘My family has had a feud with Bolg’s father for most of my life,’ Thorin said, tone of voice as icy as the air outside. ‘I would not side with them, not for all the gold in Erebor.’

‘You already have all the gold in Erebor,’ Lord Erland countered. ‘Quite unjustly, if I may indeed be so bold to say.’ He snorted. ‘Do you really want me to believe that an alliance will make me forget that you have wronged me?’

It appeared that Galas was not the only one who needed to get his head out of his arse. Lord Erland also needed to sort out his priorities, and the quicker he did that, the better it would be for everyone involved. Did people even do this, thinking about gold and treasure even when their lives were in immediate danger? Didn’t they all have far more important things to think about at the moment?

Fortunately it seemed that Gandalf was of the same mind. ‘The matter of the gold can be settled after the battle, don’t you think?’ he said pleasantly, although Kate was not fooled for a moment; there was steel in the wizard’s eyes.

Kate didn’t know what exactly it was that made Erland do a step back like he was a puppy anticipating to be beaten with a stick, but it was a welcome change from all that sneering he had done of late.

And Thorin backed Gandalf up. ‘I am willing to let this matter rest in order to address the greater threat,’ he announced.

‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend, isn’t that the saying?’ Kate asked innocently. ‘Besides, how will we ever continue this “delicious” squabbling if we’re all dead?’

‘How do I know you won’t stab us in the back at the earliest opportunity?’ Erland demanded, never one to lose his tongue for long. _If only we could be that lucky…_

‘You’ll have to trust us,’ Thorin snapped. How he managed to snap so regally was something of a mystery to Kate. She would have to ask. When all of this was said and done, naturally. ‘My people are not known for breaking their word once it has been given.’ _Unlike some people in this tent you might care to mention_ was more than implied.

Erland must have heard the message as well, because he coloured as red as a tomato, but he didn’t back off. ‘I have seen _that_!’ he exclaimed, sceptical and cynical.

It was that petty grudge of his which made Kate lose her temper. So much for not interfering. ‘Well, in that case, sir, just bear in mind that if we would indeed betray you, you’ll at least die quick,’ she sneered. ‘Leave it to the orcs and they’ll probably keep you alive for sport, if you don’t die of blood poisoning first of course. Either way, it would be a very messy business, a very unpleasant and painful way to go.’

There was a short silence in which everyone pondered that. Strangely enough, no one mentioned betrayal after.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I am surrounded by idiots._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Nói is dealt with and Thorin gives Bilbo a gift.   
> By the way, apologies that it takes so long for me to get that next chapter for Duly Noted up. I got a little side-tracked by two little projects I did for the Sherlock fandom. Hopefully Duly Noted will get updated this week or the week after that, though.  
> Please review? As always, I’d really like to know what you think.


	80. Preparation Stages

_I have to admit that the meeting went a whole lot smoother after that intermezzo. I don’t know for sure what did the trick in the end, but at least people started to sort out their priorities, which was about time too. Gandalf finally got round to telling us exactly how far off this approaching army was, which was bad news for people’s nerves, since it was only about a day’s march away from us, maybe even less if they marched throughout the night. That gave us less than twenty-four hours to prepare for a full-blown battle with thus far very unwilling participants._

_Although I may dislike Thranduil with a passion – and disliked him even more that day – I have to give credit where it is due, and I suppose that he deserves some credit for gathering his wits and choosing to go with an alliance almost right away after I had put Erland in his place, which had been remarkably satisfactory. He at least agreed to postpone the arguing to a later date and even went as far as to shake Thorin’s hand to seal the deal. It’s a good thing he never learned how thoroughly Thorin washed his hands after that meeting, although Thranduil may have done the same for all I know._

_How can I describe that meeting, my dears? Really, to truly understand what it was like you should have been there, because it was a very strange atmosphere indeed, a mixture of excitement, anticipation and dread that makes one’s stomach clench in fear, but at the same time makes one’s heart beat faster in excitement._

_For your father and me there was even an extra emotion thrown into this strange cocktail of feelings: frustration. You may wonder about that, but it is very easily explained actually. We knew the book. We knew the things that would and wouldn’t work when approaching tactics to be used in the battle. The thing was that we could not tell anyone about them, not without making everyone suspicious. Until then we had kept the book a secret, and we liked to keep it that way. Maker only knows what havoc Erland and his cronies – to name a few – could have wreaked with it. Somehow I think certain people would have been a little too gleeful about Thorin’s fictional death. And so we had to keep the source of the knowledge, and therefore the knowledge itself, hidden. This also meant that we had to limit ourselves to mere suggestions about what could be done, something that neither of us liked._

_But even without taking the book and its information into the equation things were complicated, not in the least because of Erland’s supposed stroke of genius to hide some of his warriors in the Mountain only to have them pop out at some opportune moment to join the fray and gain some measure of surprise, which could be used in our favour. Fortunately nobody fell for his little ruse, possibly because that manic gleam in his eyes was quite difficult to overlook. If anyone had been infected with some kind of dragon gold madness, I’m quite sure it was him. That he could even think of such things in the face of such a threat was honestly far beyond me._

_That didn’t mean that the plan itself was all that bad. The idea in itself was actually quite good, once we replaced Erland’s men with Dáin’s. At least we could trust them not to stab us in the back and make off with as much treasure as they could gather before they made a run to avoid any unfortunate run-ins with Bolg’s merry men and lapdogs. That plan was accepted, although Erland muttered about dwarves hiding in their Mountain and not helping anyone, which was rich, coming from him, especially since he had been one of the people who had mentioned running away more than once._

_In the end the meeting was concluded, plans were agreed upon and we arranged with Dáin to send a small division of his men to the Mountain after nightfall, just in case there were any spies lurking nearby. In the meantime, we had a lot to do, and only very little time to do it. After all, we still had a Nói-shaped problem to deal with…_

 

Kate was only too glad to breathe in the cold air again, because it meant she was no longer in that tent with all its nasty politics. Lord Erland had driven her up the walls almost literally, and had certainly left her with a desperate urge to tear her own hair out. Honestly, could such an ally even be relied upon to keep his word? She rather doubted it. The most likely scenario was that he would turn tail and run at the first sign of a fight and leave his men to fend for themselves. It wasn’t as if he had any honour to speak of. He rather seemed to be lacking in it, sorely.

And it was not as if it was all over yet, not by a very long way, certainly not for her. There was still Nói to deal with, and she was in no way looking forward to that. Traitor though he may be, and it was difficult to believe that of him when she had seen no proof of his treason whatsoever, but he had been nice to her, whereas the rest of Dáin’s entourage had given her the cold shoulder. Dáin himself of course had been polite, even nice after she had put Erland in his place, as he only deserved. The fact that she was doing her best for his people seemed to warm him to her somewhat. Kate was glad of it. Of course he could not like her all that much when he found out what she had intended for Nói.

And Nói himself had no idea what was awaiting him. He came to her after the meeting with a wide smile. ‘You are to be congratulated, Queen Kate,’ he said to her.

‘Just Kate,’ she reminded him, smiling back. She had a feeling no one in his senses would believe that smile to be genuine though. It felt forced even to her. ‘And what exactly am I to be congratulated with, if I may be so bold to ask?’

In the end she hadn’t done very much, and most of it had been down to Thorin’s knowledge about battle situations, backed up with Dáin’s. Thranduil’s experience with battles pre-dated the Third Age and Lord Erland had the body of someone who has always sat on his backside. It would be foolish to assume that he had any fighting experience of his own. Even Kate could boast having more. That left Thorin as the only king present with recent experience in fighting orcs. Kate had been secretly impressed with the things he knew about their methods and preferred ways of luring people into traps. Of course he had a whole war of memories to draw on, but it had impressed her all the same.

They really had taken control of the situation, that was what she was most proud of though. They really could do this, could change what the book dictated and make their own story, at least thus far. She could only hope and pray that come morning she would still think that. She could only pray even harder that she would still think this when the sun set tomorrow.

 _Not now_ , she reminded herself. There was a traitor to deal with first. _One step at a time. One foot in front of the other._

‘Your conduct at the meeting today. You’ve done our people proud,’ Nói said.

 _I would appreciate the compliment more if I believed you actually meant it and didn’t say it to flatter me into believing you_. ‘I did what needed doing,’ she replied, snappishly. ‘No more or less than anyone else should have done, I am sure.’

‘No more, I would agree. No less, I can’t agree with that,’ Nói said. The longer she had to endure his flattering, the more it annoyed her. Maybe it annoyed her more because Elvaethor was so much better at it, and because he actually meant what he said. With Nói it were only empty words, meaningless, treacherous. She was tired of them, tired of his shady game.

Of course Thorin had buggered off to talk to Dáin some more, leaving her to do the dirty work all by herself. She understood why he did that; he had never liked this scheme and the dishonesty it involved. Besides, she didn’t think he had the gift for lying the way she did – she wasn’t sure what this said about her and how well she liked it – and he despised the need for it. Still, she didn’t have to like it that he left her to deal with this on her own. Kate could have done with his support in this.

‘I am sure you did not come to talk to me only for the purpose of flattering me,’ she remarked.

‘Ah, you are right of course.’ Nói’s smile only widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which was a tell-tale sign that he didn’t mean it, for whatever reason. She just did not know what she should make of that look, though. ‘I came to offer my assistance, with whatever help you might need before the morning comes.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ Kate admitted, although she was seething inwardly. _Hoping for a private tour of Erebor, are you? Well, I am sure that can be arranged, even though it may not be in the way you had in mind_. ‘As it is, I think I’ll take you up on that offer, if it is all the same to you.’

‘Please, ask,’ Nói invited.

‘Well, I have heard it said that you are a mason, right?’ She waited until he had nodded his affirmation before she continued. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have one in the company, even when we do seem to have every other trade represented, and there are some fortifications that are looking a wee bit weak after almost two centuries of neglect. Maybe you could take a look at them, give us some clues as to how we can make them hold up for just a little longer? What with that orc army approaching…’ She trailed off, almost hesitantly.

And she hated herself for this. This was not who she was, not really. Of course this _was_ part of her, something she could do almost too easily when she put her mind to it, but it was not something she liked to do, the deceiving part, the misleading part. Catherine the Cunning indeed. It disgusted her.

But not so much as Nói’s betrayal, which was definitely the greater evil in this. In a way it almost reminded her of her father, who had rather played nice and pretended that he was not sleeping with other women than that he admitted to it. It turned out that this particular similarity was what it took for her to keep her distance from the only dwarf outside the company who had welcomed her with open arms. But then, he hadn’t welcomed her, not sincerely. What worth did his behaviour have then?

‘Of course,’ Nói answered immediately. ‘I can’t make any promises about how much I can do, but I will try my hardest, I promise.’

_Try your hardest to get us all killed? Because if that is the case, you’re well on your way to succeed._

‘You seem troubled, Kate,’ the dwarf remarked as they walked back to Erebor, Thorin in conversation with Dwalin and Bofur a few steps behind them. For heaven’s sake, was he really trying to let her deal with this all alone? That was not exactly what she’d had in mind when they had agreed on this. Not that she had really imagined Thorin to be very involved in the practical matters of the plan, apart from the actual arrest and incarceration bit, but wasn’t he supposed to at least be there for the moral support? Heaven knew she could use some of that right now.

‘An approaching orc army tends to have that effect on people,’ she remarked wryly. ‘I don’t think I’ll breathe easily until this is all done.’ _Until we have you safely behind bars._

‘If you have ever seen the pleasure of seeing dwarves fight, you would not worry so much,’ Nói attempted to reassure her.

‘I have seen dwarves fighting,’ Kate told him. ‘Unfortunately I’ve also seen several orcs in action, hence the worrying.’

It was difficult to keep up the small talk, especially now that her brain had wandered on to the question of why someone would indeed betray his people to orcs, the enemies of all Free Folk almost since the dawn of time. What would drive someone to sell his own people to those monsters, that was something that she didn’t understand, especially in a world where loyalty to one’s race was valued so highly. Not that traitors were looked any kinder on where she came from, she observed, but it seemed more important here, and therefore the crime was greater.

So, what was Nói’s motivation? Why did he do what he was doing? Kate didn’t really doubt that he was their traitor, even though his manners were so pleasant and his smile so kind. She had first-hand experience with Lady Galadriel’s altogether rather unnerving ability to look into someone’s mind. And she had been good to the company, so even though she, as an elf, would have a motive, to cause strife in their midst, Kate didn’t think she would put everyone at risk by dividing them in this manner. Truth be told, she had likely learned of Bolg’s coming by reading Nói’s mind, which would explain why both Elvaethor and Gandalf had reacted so strongly to what she told them. Just the presence of a traitor would not justify that response.

‘All will look better in the morning light,’ Nói said, putting a hand on her arm that was meant to be reassuring. Kate could only hope that he chalked the resulting shiver up to the cold, and not her unease with his physical touch. ‘That’s what my mother used to say before she passed away.’

 _For you, maybe_. ‘With things being as they are, I rather doubt that,’ she replied curtly. She was worrying; she wasn’t supposed to be on her best behaviour, especially now that the meeting had come to an end.

And soon enough Kate had a valid reason not to make polite conversation, because they had reached the dragon, and the only way to get past that monster was in a long row, preferably with nose covered as to not smell the rot. The sooner that dragon was burned, the better it would be, but for now it might be something of a deterrent to the orc armies.

‘Very impressive,’ Nói complimented the moment they stepped inside. ‘Many said that it was a folly to try and attack the dragon with so little force, but you have surely proven the doubters wrong.’ This time his admiration did seem to be genuine, but that didn’t change anything, not now.

‘We did,’ Kate merely said. ‘Although I cannot take credit for it. It’s Thorin and Kíli that deserve your words of praise.’ Both in equal measure. Kíli may have dealt the killing blow – well, arrow, more like – but Thorin had risked more, and he had been the one to suffer most because of the risks he took. He could disguise that limb when necessary, but it was there all the same. It might never really go away. But, as Thorin himself had said, it was a small price to pay for Erebor, and one well worth paying.

‘I shall tell them as soon as I can,’ Nói said. ‘Well, would you care to guide me to the places that are most in need of repair? The light is fading rapidly, and I’d like to do as much as I can.’

Kate took a deep breath and looked over his head to Thorin and Dwalin, who had come in after her. Bofur was still squeezing past the dragon, but if they waited longer, Nói would notice something was off, and they would lose the element of surprise. Considering the fact that he had an axe strapped to his back, she would rather not that he got the chance to use it. Fortunately both Thorin and Dwalin simultaneously nodded at her.

‘I’m afraid that you won’t look at any other walls than the walls of your cell, Nói,’ she said. ‘We’ve been told about your association with Azog, and now presumably with Bolg as well. As Queen under the Mountain, I have no choice but to arrest you on the suspicion of high treason.’ _And there you go again with the cop shows._

It seemed that Nói’s head was still reeling with the implications of what she had just said when Dwalin and Bofur, who had gotten past the dragon just in time to assist in the arrest, seized his arms, and Dwalin took his axe before he could do someone a harm with it. Nói merely stared at her, slack-jawed and with disbelief written all over his face.

‘What are you doing?’ Incredulity, genuine incredulity coloured his voice. It was as if he truly didn’t know what was happening to him and why they did this when they had been so friendly just a few short minutes ago.

Kate did a step back, distancing herself from him physically as well as emotionally. There was a bit of guilt eating away at her, and she shouldn’t let it, not for this dwarf. On the other hand, there was doubt, though, doubt that Lady Galadriel may have been mistaken and that Nói was not a traitor at all. Could that be the case and had they just taken the wrong dwarf captive? If that was indeed the case, the consequences of that might very well be nothing short of disastrous for the alliance.

But no, she didn’t think Galadriel had really made such an error, not when it was as important as this was. Nói just must be a very good actor to fool them all like he did, although this wasn’t something dwarves usually went in for. Thorin had been displeased with the whole scheme; Kate had even heard him mutter something about this being too elvish, and Kate wasn’t sure she entirely disagreed with him. There was something sneaky and dishonest about their plan, but then, it wasn’t as if Nói was the most honest of people himself. And sometimes you had to fight fire with fire.

‘It seems obvious to me,’ she said. _I don’t want to do this, I really don’t_. Even though she had only known him for such a short while, it hurt, maybe even more so because he was playing innocent, as if he had no idea why he was treated in such a fashion. It all seemed so bloody sincere that those doubts only grew in strength.

‘I am not a traitor!’ Nói protested.

And so it seemed that they had arrived at an impasse. Nói was not going to confess, and Kate couldn’t take the risk of letting him walk free. She would really appreciate it if Thorin would come over here and pull his own weight in this matter instead of standing a few feet away, looking as if he had frozen into stone. Of course this wasn’t easy on him, the betrayal of one of his own kin, but could he for Durin’s sake not get over it and do what needed doing? He had never really struck her as the type to let others do his dirty work, so what was different now?

‘Nói, son of Bori, wasn’t it?’

Kate swivelled around, only to see Balin enter the hall. He smiled, and could therefore be easily mistaken for the old and harmless dwarf that he often pretended to be. Kate didn’t fall for it these days; she had seen him fight. And she had the benefit of seeing the gleam in his eyes. He was on the scent, whatever that scent may be.

Nói tried to shrug off Dwalin’s death grip on his arm, and found himself failing. ‘I do not believe we have met.’

‘Balin, son of Fundin, at your service,’ Balin introduced himself. ‘We met briefly after the Battle of Azanulbizar.’ He smiled, almost sympathetically. ‘A great tragedy befell your family that day, if I remember correctly.’

How he had gotten to the heart of the matter so quickly was something beyond Kate’s comprehension, but it was only too obvious that he had indeed struck a chord. For a moment something flickered in Nói’s eyes, something that Kate was tempted to call anger, or even malice. But it was gone again before she could be certain.

‘You know each other?’ she asked, a question that could instantly be nominated for most stupid question asked in the last century, since the answer to it must be nothing short of blaringly obvious.

‘Aye,’ Balin said, nodding. ‘A great tragedy it was. Your father and three of your brothers died, didn’t they?’ There was sympathy in his tone of voice, but steel in his eyes, and Kate wondered how she had ever been fooled into believing that this dwarf was harmless. He might be one of the most dangerous under this Mountain, intelligence-wise anyway.

‘And my mother starved herself to death within three years to join them in the Halls of Waiting,’ Nói snapped. Apparently the remark about his kin got through to him. The mask of kindness crumbled into dust, and the anger became all that more apparent. It shone in his eyes, burned with an intensity that had Kate do a step back in shock. Even though she had known that Nói was no friend of theirs, she hadn’t expected this. Short though their acquaintance may have been, she had very quickly grown used to a dwarf with twinkling eyes, a quick laugh and no talent for flattery, which didn’t stop him from trying it all the same. There was no sign of that dwarf now. He had gone.

‘Oh my God,’ she whispered, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. ‘And you’re out for revenge.’ He had to be, hadn’t he? ‘But why? What does Thorin have to do with your quest for vengeance?’ Even though the whole thing had initially made sense, the longer she thought about it, the more befuddling it became. ‘It were Azog’s men who slaughtered your family?’ Because of her confusion it came out as a question rather than the statement she had been aiming for.

‘But Durin’s line that led them to their deaths.’ Kate was almost glad that he had given up his attempts at concealment, so that she could see the hatred and madness underneath. It made it so much easier for her to dislike him, to be repulsed by him. Could someone really sink this low?

The answer to that was clearly yes, but it was sickening all the same. What Nói had done was basically sell out his own king to the orc who had slaughtered his own family, or had at least commanded his men to slaughter his family. If that was irony, then it was a very sickening form of it indeed. She felt her hands starting to shake, and she was not entirely sure why they were doing that.

They weren’t doing it for much longer. Thorin put a stop to it by coming to stand next to her and taking her left hand in his right, steadying it. His face was as white as a sheet though, making Kate wonder exactly who was drawing the most support from the physical contact.

‘Take him to the dungeon.’ Thorin’s voice sounded strained. Kate recognised the signs of tension, clear as day. When relaxed, the King under the Mountain could chatter with the rest of them, but when he was on edge, he retreated into himself, barely speaking a word. He was like that today, and Kate could understand why. If she was already so shocked by the idea that Nói had betrayed them to Azog and Bolg, then how much worse would it be for Thorin? Nói probably didn’t know it, but Kate was only too aware that Thorin had an alarming tendency to doubt himself and his decisions at every bloody turn, and this was not going to be doing any favours for his confidence in himself. With that battle fast approaching, Nói really had picked the worst – or best, in his perspective – possible time to turn out to be such a bastard.

At the same time Kate was surprised at the amount of planning that had gone into the very complex scheme of his. This had taken years to prepare. Well, maybe she shouldn’t be that surprised, since it was quite clear that Nói had been harbouring this grudge for well over a century. That battle was ages ago, but apparently there was truth in the saying that dwarves had very long memories. And clearly another saying was true as well. Revenge was, at least for Nói, a dish best eaten cold. The horrible thing was, without knowing how the battle would turn out, he may still get the revenge was looking for too.

‘You deserve it,’ Nói snarled, fighting against Dwalin’s grip on his arm, but Dwalin wasn’t the strongest dwarf she knew – although Dori came in a very close second – for no reason. Nói seemed to realise this too, and turned to Dwalin. ‘You shouldn’t be following him. There’s madness in that line, you’ve seen that. The Battle of Azanulbizar, a foolish quest to slay a dragon, and now another battle…’

‘Which you yourself have been so kind as to arrange,’ Kate pointed out coolly.

Nói ignored her. ‘The only thing Thrór and his descendants have given our people is death.’ He stared at Thorin with contempt. ‘He should not be king. Dáin would make for a better one, a much better one.’

 _Shit_. ‘Is Dáin aware of your ambitions?’ she wondered, doing the talking, as Thorin seemed to have lost the ability to speak. ‘Of your rather disgusting plan to build him a throne with the support of orcs and on the bodies of your fallen kinsmen?’ This must be madness, true madness. She had heard it say that grief could make people do strange things, but Kate had never expected that something like this would ever happen. This was insane. No more, no less. ‘Quite frankly, the only insanity I see here is in you.’

‘What dwarf in his senses would ever be as foolish as to marry a woman of Men?’ he retorted. ‘You are a fool if you think our people will accept you as their queen, Kate. You do not stand a chance, none at…’

At this point during his speech he was silenced. Dwalin had whacked him over the head, putting an end to his struggling and poisonous words, and also to his consciousness. It must have been a very powerful blow indeed, if it could put Nói out of action in less than a second, because dwarven skulls were thick, in every sense of the word, but Kate was glad of it.

‘That’s not the way to treat a prisoner, brother,’ Balin reminded him gently.

Dwalin failed to be impressed. ‘I feel much better for it,’ he said, which was as good a reason to knock that traitor out as any, Kate thought. Her only regret was that Dwalin had not done it sooner, before Nói’s words could get under her skin and settle there.

 

***

 

It was good to have something to do, because it distracted him from things he had no wish to think about at the moment, like Nói’s betrayal or the fact that there were hordes of orcs approaching, possibly for vengeance. That was nothing new; a lot of wars were fought for revenge, but he had never been the one to give his foes a reason for attacking him. He had been the one to end Azog’s life, and even though he knew that he’d had no choice in the matter – it was kill or be killed, or, worse, kill or watch Kate be killed – but he was responsible all the same.

And that was only one of the things he didn’t want to think about. Dying in the coming fight suddenly had ceased to be of any importance. One of his kin, one of his own people, had betrayed him to his worst enemy. There wasn’t anything worse than that, not that he could think of anyway. And of course he had known about the treason before today, but he found that it was something else entirely to hear it confirmed. Now it was a certainty, and not just the word of an elf. Now it was real.

And it didn’t help matters that he had trouble getting  Nói’s words out of his head. _There’s madness in that line. The only thing Thrór and his descendants have given our people is death._ It was even worse because Thorin could not even find it in himself to contradict Nói. His grandfather had made mistakes, and his own father had lost his mind. Those were facts. And yes, many had deemed his quest a fool’s errand, a suicide mission. It was only luck that had granted them such a favourable outcome, because so many little things could have gone wrong, could still go wrong. And now his actions had brought an army of orcs to his doorstep.

This was something he could not discuss with Kate. Maybe he ought to, but he had seen the naked shock on her face when Nói had directed his poisonous words at her. _You are a fool if you think our people will accept you as their queen, Kate. You do not stand a chance._ Those words had hit home. He had grown skilled at reading her, but this had not been difficult to read at all. It had been there, for everyone to see. She had enough on her plate now without him burdening her with his troubles. She was already sharing so many.

And that sharing was in more ways than he had thought of before today. It had started to dawn on him during the negotiations, and he was still trying to work out how exactly Kate operated, and if she was even aware that she was doing it, which he rather doubted. She said all the things he wanted to say, and let others snarl and snap at her, let them ridicule her, but it helped him to keep his temper in check, so that he did not say those things himself and instead could be dignified in his responses. It was a greater support than he had believed was possible, but she was doing it, and had been doing it for months. He just had never noticed before now.

And so he could not burden her with his problems any more than he had done already, and he had relocated to the armoury. The armour given to him by the Men of the Lake was not bad, but he needed something of dwarven make if he really wanted to be protected well. And he had promised Kate he would try to come out of this alive, so trying to come out of this alive was what he would try to attempt.

He wasn’t the only one looking for armour. Even the hobbit could be seen wandering around, looking for something small enough to fit him. Thorin admired the halfling more and more by the day, but it would be the height of irresponsibility to let him out on the battlefield. He wasn’t that much better with a sword than Kate was, and he had no intention to let her anywhere near the fighting either. She was too vulnerable, and so was the burglar.

‘Master Baggins, what are you doing?’ he demanded. It was the kind of voice that had sent a younger Fíli and Kíli in the business of mischief look up with bright red cheeks in embarrassment because of being caught.

The hobbit reacted more or less the same; with bright red cheeks and a stammering explanation. ‘Well, it seemed wiser to find some armour, since I don’t really have any. The length is not really a problem, but all of it’s too broad and I can’t seem to find anything that fits. I didn’t think you’d mind. Everyone else is…’

At this point Thorin felt it necessary to interrupt him. ‘You will not join us in the fighting, Mr Baggins.’ His mental voice, that sounded a lot like Kate these days, reprimanded him for being too dismissive.

Bilbo seemed to take it as an insult. ‘I can do my part!’ he protested.

‘You have too little skill with weapons,’ Thorin countered. ‘You would be more of a liability than a help to us.’ Still too dismissive perhaps, but it was also the truth. It was just like it had been at the beginning of the quest, although now he was saying it for the hobbit’s own good than merely out of spite and anger at that addle-brained wizard.

Kate would have recognised his brusque words for what they were, but the halfling had no such advantage and so he misinterpreted. ‘I am sure that I can try…’

‘This is my final word on the matter,’ Thorin all but snapped. He was really not in the mood for a discussion today. ‘However, I will help you to find some suitable armour, in case the battle turns ill.’

That seemed to shut Bilbo up, probably because only now it really started to dawn on him that this really could go this bad that the Mountain would be invaded and overrun. Only over his dead body, Thorin vowed. He had not gone to all that trouble to rid Erebor of a dragon only to have it invaded by orcs. Anyway, once this was all over and done with, Mr Baggins would return home, and the road was not safe, they all knew that. He could use some additional protection.

It was for the first time in quite some time that he smiled at an idea the book had provided him with. A shirt of mithril rings it had mentioned as a reward for Bilbo, in exchange for services rendered. It was something of a coincidence that Thorin remembered this particular coat of mail from before the fall of the Mountain. It was old, even when he was young, made for some young elf when Erebor had only just been founded. For whatever reason the elves had never collected it. There was probably a story there, but Thorin didn’t know it, and it hardly mattered. And now it would do very well for the burglar, who probably had no idea about the true value of the gift Thorin was about to bestow on him.

True to expectations Bilbo put it on, looking very impressed, even more so when he realised how light the material was, and still so strong at the same time. ‘T-thank you,’ he stammered, almost as if he had not expected it.

Etiquette dictated that he explained the gift, and why it had been given, but Thorin had never been good with words. He generally let his actions speak for him, because they usually spoke much louder anyway. It was a token of gratitude, of course it was. Bilbo had saved his life on the slopes of the Misty Mountains, had smuggled the entire company out of Thranduil’s dungeons and had – his most daring achievement to be sure – distracted a live and very annoyed dragon to buy them time to kill it. And Thorin had not forgotten that it was Bilbo who had given him the Arkenstone. It was only fair that he gave a gift in return.

‘Wow, don’t you look dashing!’ Kate’s remark and appreciating whistle – which made Bilbo flush a bright red in embarrassment and made the company advisor grin quite mischievously – drew both their attention to her. She was leaning against a nearby pillar, admiring Bilbo’s gift. ‘Seriously, it does look good on you.’

The hobbit moved his hands, all but threw them up in the air. ‘Why…?’

‘It means thank you,’ she translated. ‘For everything you did. And given the circumstances, you might want to keep it close. You know, all those nasty orcs about and the like. By the way, Bombur was looking for you. I told him I’d send you if I happened to stumble across you. Which I did.’ She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It was just another mask, just another attempt at fooling the world into thinking that she was fine when she was not.

Bilbo didn’t notice, or pretended not to. For all his chattering and nervous behaviour he was far more observant than Thorin would have thought. ‘Did he say what it was about?’

Kate shrugged. ‘He didn’t tell,’ she answered. ‘And well, since I’m not a mind reader…’

The hobbit excused himself and made his way out of the armoury, still looking at his gift every two seconds as if he couldn’t believe his luck. At least he had chosen right, which was good to know.

Kate had come closer, inspecting a dagger. ‘That should do very well,’ she observed, although she failed to mention for who.

And that was not the most important thing on Thorin’s mind. ‘You told the hobbit a falsehood.’

She frowned at him. ‘I did?’ she asked, surprised to learn it.

‘You do read minds,’ he reminded her.

The realisation started to dawn. ‘Ah.’ Kate put the dagger down again. ‘Well, that’s not entirely true. I don’t read _minds_. It’s just the one, actually. And even that’s more like guessing than reading. Only fair anyway, since you’re forever reading my thoughts these days, although never when I really need you to.’

Neither of them were good with words. No, he needed to correct that. Both of them were good with words. It was only when it was about feelings that they became so horribly bad at it. Still, there were occasions on which it was necessary to speak. And to keep silent now would do both of them more harm than good. Especially since he could very well be dead by this time tomorrow. Kate’s eyes told him that she was only too aware of that possibility.

‘It’s more than guessing,’ he insisted. ‘At the meeting. The things you said.’ There were times that he cursed his own inability to form coherent sentences.

It was a good thing the company advisor knew what he meant. ‘The things you couldn’t say for fear they might declare war on you if you said them, whereas they don’t take me half as seriously.’ She shrugged. ‘I can get away with it, at least for now. Don’t know how they’ll take it once I’m the actual queen and not just pretending to be one, but there you have it.’

‘You should not expose yourself to ridicule,’ There was something that he certainly disliked the notion of, very much so.

Kate snorted. ‘They’d ridicule me anyway. That’s where Nói was right, I’m afraid. Truth be told, that was also the only bloody thing he was right about. Other than that he was sprouting nonsense only.’ Thorin was about to protest that notion, but Kate headed him off. ‘No, you know very well that they would make me look a complete fool either way. I’m just using it to…’ She gave it a bit of thought. ‘I’m… translating you for them. Only they don’t know I’m doing it, is all.’

Translating him. Yes, that had a ring of truth to it, even when he still didn’t like it when she did that. The other thing that rang too true was her remark about Nói, and his words being true as well. Had he not seen it already? Dáin seemed to accept her thus far, but his advisors had disapproval practically written on their foreheads. The company had accepted her, which was probably the reason why Thorin may have temporarily been fooled into thinking that he might indeed get away with a few controversial decisions once Erebor had been restored and he was King under the Mountain. Now, he was not so sure anymore. If he survived this, he might find that the worst was in fact not yet behind him, but was still to come. If he died tomorrow, Kate would return to where she came from and get on with the life she had been meant to lead. Where once upon a time this had been his dearest wish, he now wasn’t so certain of that anymore. It felt _wrong_.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Kate’s next words. ‘Anyway, I didn’t come here to contemplate Thranduil’s lack of manners. If we were to talk about that we would still be here come morning.’ There was a nonchalance to her tone of voice that Thorin strongly suspected was faked. But that was Kate. She tended to do that, whenever she felt uneasy about something and wanted to hide it.

‘What is the matter?’ he asked curtly, hoping that it was not a plea for him to survive. Much as he may hope to live to stand here in a few days’ time, no one could make any promises on that account. Battles were too chaotic, and there was no telling who would live and who would die. Inexperienced youngsters would fall alongside seasoned warriors with decades of practise under their belts. Death didn’t have favourites; it got to everyone in the end. It was part of the reason why it was a bit strange that the book could predict who died and who lived. There were too many people out there, and fighting was often as much instinct as it was skill. Much depended on the enemy, the terrain, the weather… There were so many factors to take into consideration, it was impossible to say how the fight would turn out. But Kate didn’t know that. She was inexperienced, didn’t understand the ways of war, and part of him envied her for that.

Fortunately Kate had come to him for another reason entirely. ‘Dáin’s men,’ she reported. ‘They’re here. Their commander wishes to speak to you. He… ehm… refused to speak with me, so I thought I’d fetch you and remove myself from his presence before I forget myself and do the prat a harm.’ She gave him a critical once over. ‘Do me a favour and don’t go all overprotective husband on him. We do need them on side.’

‘You’re reading my mind again,’ Thorin told her. His hands had clenched into fists at the mention of whatever it was that the commander of Dáin’s men had done. It hadn’t been nice at any rate, not judging by the way she spoke about it.

‘Making an educated guess,’ the woman corrected. ‘You’re right, though. It wasn’t that difficult a conclusion.’

He believed that right away. ‘I’ll come,’ he said. And he knew full well that he could not take this commander to task for a perceived slight, but he could mention it to Dori, discreetly, and let him deal with it, equally discreetly. After all, Kate’s brother didn’t need his weapons or his fists to drive a point home, and he had a lifetime of experience in the art of lecturing, the fruits of which Thorin had sampled on several occasions. Like Kate would say, there were more ways to skin a cat, and there was no reason at all why she should even find out about it. ‘Has Dáin come with them?’

‘He apparently had important matters to see to back in his own camp,’ Kate said. ‘The rest he would rather discuss with the King under the Mountain.’ It was a tell-tale sign of just how tired and annoyed she was that she didn’t add the comment that she didn’t mean any offence to his people or that she didn’t want him to act on his anger. There was only anger now, anger and fatigue.

Could he really do this to her? Could he subject her to a life in which she would doubtlessly be confronted with people who didn’t want her there? By now it was obvious that they would be met with resistance at every turn, and not only from Thranduil, of whom it was only expected to be difficult; the elf had been little else in all the time Thorin had known him. But these were his own people, the people he was expected to lead.

‘You’re brooding,’ Kate said. ‘That scowl is quite terrifying, if you must know.’

‘It is meant to be,’ Thorin growled.

Kate snorted. ‘Save it for the orcs,’ she advised. ‘You don’t want to alienate your own allies, especially not now.’

No, he didn’t. Part of him wanted it, though. Dwarves were not supposed to be like this. They were loyal to a fault. Apparently that didn’t mean that they could not question his decisions. Exactly how strong was the sentiment that Nói had voiced among the dwarves of the Iron Hills? Did they all believe that madness rules supreme in his line?

Still, Kate was right, and therefore he gritted his teeth and even managed to school his expression into one of cool politeness when he met the commander of the dwarves Dáin had sent to him. His name was Róni, if he remembered correctly; he had been one of the advisors present at the negotiations.

To him at least the commander was polite enough, even though he was pointedly ignoring Kate, as if she wasn’t even there. Kate returned the favour by paying him no mind either. She waited five minutes, and when Róni did nothing to acknowledge her presence, she let herself be called away by Nori to help him with something. It was a good move, because she didn’t show that it was because of his rudeness that she left. She only went to help someone out. Still, Thorin hated the need for it.

But this was not the time to fight that battle. If he was still alive tomorrow, then that was something that needed to be addressed, sooner rather than later. Kate had promised him to stay, and therefore he owed it to her to make sure that she had no cause to regret that decision. It was the right thing to do. For now he discussed battle strategy. They would hide in the Mountain – Thorin silently objected to the word hiding, since it sounded too cowardly, and mentally replaced it with lying in an ambush – until a sign was given. Gandalf had made a piece of his to hobbits apparently legendary firework available, and it would be shot into the sky when it was time for them to join the fray. There was nothing really wrong with that plan, because it would give them an element of surprise, something that might prove to be sorely needed if Kate’s book was right about anything at all. They might even turn the tide of the battle if they planned this well.

‘So it will be then,’ he said eventually. When not confronted with the future Queen under the Mountain, Róni was a good fellow, everything a dwarf ought to be: loyal, honest and hard-working. Thorin might have liked him for it. ‘I have a request for you.’

‘Anything,’ Róni answered right away.

 _Oh dear, is he going to regret that_ , Kate’s voice commented in his head. Quite frankly, that was a little alarming; she wasn’t even here to hear it.

‘I have to ask you if one of your men can stay in Erebor to stand watch over my wife and…’ For a moment he wondered what he should say about Bilbo Baggins, how to describe him to someone who had not been on the quest with him. ‘Mr Bilbo Baggins,’ he said eventually. He had briefly contemplated calling him the burglar, but that might have sufficed to make eyebrows go up to Róni’s very hairline.

As it was, the eyebrows only came down in a frown before he remembered himself and called out to someone a little behind him. ‘Lufur!’

The dwarf answering to that name came forward, almost tripping over his feet in his eagerness to obey the command. A young one, Thorin thought, probably only had a few years on his own sister-sons. Having said that, this dwarf was a strong one, even despite his youth, and Thorin liked the look of him. He had a broad, but honest face. He sported a large nose, probably broken once, but inexpertly set, an equally large mouth and green eyes, sparkling with excitement. So young, so eager. Fíli and Kíli had been like that before they had come with him on this quest. He would have spared them growing up so fast if only he could.

‘Aye, sir,’ Lufur said. He noticed Thorin, made a short bow and introduced himself. ‘Lufur, son of Alfur, at your service.’

He remembered Róni giving the same name before, leading him to believe that they were brothers, with Róni being the elder. It would seem Thorin wasn’t the only one with a wish to keep younger relatives out of the fray. And could he blame anyone for that? Besides, he reminded himself, the orc armies were unlikely to come anywhere near the gates of Erebor. This was only just a precaution. He didn’t need someone very experienced.

He gave a curt nod. ‘You’ll do well, lad.’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I don’t know what Thorin is talking about with that grumpy commander of Dáin’s, but he’s definitely up to something. Why do I have a feeling I won’t like that at all?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: a lot of farewells and Kate suddenly realises something rather important.  
> And for those of you who read Duly Noted, yes, the Lufur first appearing in this chapter is the same as in that story. Also, if you’ve missed it, I uploaded a new chapter for Duly Noted last week, dealing with what is going on with Kate’s family while she is in Middle Earth.   
> Please review?


	81. Farewells

_Suffice it to say that no one really slept well the night before the battle that later would come to be known as the Battle of the Five Armies. Strange maybe that I knew its name long before it even happened, long before I knew for certain that it would happen. But that’s life for you, dears; strange and utterly confusing from time to time._

_And I can’t really explain it, the book and the information it contained. I’ve never really understood it. It’s one of life’s unsolved mysteries. How could an author from my world, who had long since died, have written a story about things that had yet to happen in a completely different world? Did he know at the time that he was practically writing the manual on how to handle a quest to slay a dragon and reclaim a homeland – or, more accurately, how_ not _to handle a quest – or was he just writing a story to entertain people? I’ve never found out the answer to that one and I doubt I ever will. Like I said, it’s one of life’s unsolved mysteries._

_Because life is not a story. Stories generally tie up every loose end before “the end” is written under the manuscript. And that is something that doesn’t happen in real life. Sometimes you find out the answer to a question, and sometimes you don’t. Very frustrating thing, that is, let me tell you._

_So strangely enough it was that particular thing that I was wondering about the night before the battle. Well, I forced myself to think about it, so that I wouldn’t think about other things, that might have sent me straight into a panic attack of some kind. It was a frightening situation, even more so because there was nothing I could do about it. Part of me knew that it would be for the best if I didn’t get anywhere near that battlefield. I may be able to hold my own in a minor skirmish – and even that I can do for only a very limited amount of time, even when the opponent is no skilled swordsman himself – but a battle would be another thing entirely. Thorin’s decision not to let me fight was an altogether sensible one._

_Which didn’t mean I liked the alternative. Instead of fighting it would be my job to sit back and wait for the battle to be over. Now, as you probably know, I am a woman of limited patience. I can wait for some things if I really have to, but waiting while friends and family risk their lives in a fight is not something I can very easily do. Sensible decision though it was, for me it was akin to torture._

_It’s a woman’s lot in life to wait, that is a lesson I have learned rather well since that day. That doesn’t mean that I necessarily got any better at it throughout the years. Thorin has been on a lot of military campaigns since, and the waiting, the uncertainty about the fate of a loved one is never going to get any easier to bear. And judging by the all-around absence of snores that night, I wasn’t the only one missing out on much-needed sleep…_

 

It was a very strange night, Thorin thought. It was too silent. Normally he didn’t mind the silence. He had never been one for a lot of company, but this was different. Something about this silence was wrong. It was too silent. The air should be filled with the sound of snoring, of Kate mumbling in her sleep – something she did sometimes and a habit she was completely unaware of – and tossing and turning, the rustling of blankets and the sound of one of the guards lighting his pipe. There were no pipes now, no snores, not a single sound to pierce the silence. Thorin didn’t get up to check, but he had a lingering suspicion that most of his men were staring at the ceiling, waiting for dawn to break.

At least they would have till dawn. Gandalf had sent out some spies, and they had come back with the news that something had caused some slight delay to the marching orc armies. Since Gandalf himself had been out of the camp the moment the meeting had been concluded, it wasn’t that difficult a leap to conclude that he might very well be the reason that the orcs had been delayed. If his – temporary – allies had been fooled by whatever explanation the wizard had given them, that was their mistake, not Thorin’s. He knew better these days than to be fooled by the old man’s innocent smile.

Now he was grateful to the old man, though. It bought them time, time they needed to get ready. Because of this they would have the advantage of fighting the orcs in daylight. Orcs didn’t like daylight, they never had, probably never would. It was one of the reasons why they had thought Azanulbizar would be easier, much easier than it had turned out to be. They hadn’t anticipated the sheer amount of numbers the orcs had been able to call on, and neither had they foreseen the thick clouds that had obscured the sun, and that had been their doom.

But in the night before the battle, they hadn’t known that, and so things had been different than they were now. Thorin remembered it, remembered that he had been unable to sleep, but not because of fear, but because of excitement. There had been hope, and optimism. Many of his people had taken the opportunity to rest, no nerves plaguing their slumber. Why should they? They stood a very good chance at winning after all. The night after the battle Thorin hadn’t spent sleeping either, but for other reasons entirely. He had wept, beard cut in grief, wondering why the world was still existing after so great a tragedy. How many of them would still be alive when the sun set today, wondering the exact same thing?

No, he couldn’t think like that, he could not give up before he had even started. He had made a promise, and he had things left to do. His life’s work wasn’t finished, not yet. True, at times he had not been able to see further than killing the monster that had invaded his homeland, but that was not his ultimate goal. It was his goal to bring his people home, to give them back what they had lost. And for that he needed to be alive.

A quick sideway glance reminded him that he also may have a more personal reason for wanting to remain alive and breathing for a couple more decades. Kate was something he hadn’t expected, but he didn’t have any real regrets. It didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be fighting. _Still doomed to fight to the end of our days then._ Maybe they were. Maybe that was what they were going to do. But it would be a different fight altogether. They would fight to have her accepted by people whose default setting it was not to tolerate her kind any more than they had to. But for that fight, he needed to live.

True to expectations, Kate was awake herself, lying on her back with her hands folded underneath her head like an additional pillow, staring at the ceiling. He should have known; there had been no movement, which beyond the shadow of a doubt meant that she was wide awake.

It was as if she had felt his gaze, or maybe she had spotted it from the corner of her eyes. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she mouthed. Without waiting for a reply she rose to her feet, swaying a bit when she did so too quickly and she became dizzy as a result. Thorin could have told her that in advance, but then, she would probably not have listened. Still, he got up and followed her out to the balcony, taking her cloak with him, that she had forgotten.

He didn’t know if he should be relieved or dismayed when he saw that the sky was already turning a lighter shade of blue in the east. On one hand it was a relief that this night was nearly over, because it meant that the wait was at an end. On the other hand it meant that battle was fast approaching, bringing with it many uncertainties and risks. No, it was not for himself that he feared, not while there were so many others to fear for.

For a long time both of them were silent. Thorin found he didn’t want to speak. Not only would it force him to take this seriously, acknowledge that it really was about to happen, but he would also not know what to say. Words of affection had never been a strength of his. And Kate was trying to get him to deny the possibility that he would fall in battle, and he wouldn’t make her a promise that he may not be able to keep.

In the end it was Kate who broke the silence. ‘You should probably get into your armour,’ she remarked when the sky was coloured in a mix of purple, orange and red. Beautiful colours though they were, he was not in the appreciating mood and even though Kate looked at them with a focus usually reserved for the quest, Thorin was sure she didn’t really admire them either.

‘There is time.’ Not much, but he had not quite run out, not yet.

‘I suppose.’

There were things that needed to be said though, before the sands had run out entirely. They were both adults; they ought to acknowledge it. And so he took a deep breath and spoke the words she wouldn’t want to hear. ‘If I do not return…’

He waited a few seconds, but Kate didn’t interrupt. She only turned to look at him, to show him that he had her attention. There was something frightening about this lack of protest.

He resumed his speech. ‘If I do not return, tell Gandalf to take you back to your world.’ It wasn’t easy for him to say this, but it was the result of hours of thinking. Dori would immediately volunteer to look after Kate for the rest of her days, as would Ori and even Nori if their older brother didn’t make it through the day. They were a family and they looked after their own, as only they should. But it had become clear to Thorin that Kate’s presence here would not be approved of, and without him there, what would keep her here? She loved her family, but she had a family in that other world too, people who loved her and wanted her there. If he died, there would be nothing left for her, not in Erebor.

Kate nodded. If there was any emotion he would have to name, Thorin would choose defeat. It was written all over her face. She had been thinking herself, she must have, and she had arrived at the same conclusion he had. But it was painful in a way to find that Kate was acknowledging the possibility that things may not go their way. It felt too much like giving up. Only when she wasn’t fighting anymore did he realise that he would prefer the fighting over… this, whatever that was. Kate was a fighter, was she not? Mahal preserve him, that had been all that she had been doing from the moment they had first met. That she wasn’t doing so now was alarming, in so many ways.

‘I know.’ The words were spoken so quietly, so softly, so unlike Kate that he almost missed them.

‘You are not protesting?’ He wondered if she could hear the plea for a protest in his voice.

Kate shrugged and snorted, wrapping her arms around her torso, almost as if to protect herself, to brace herself. ‘It wouldn’t do us any good, would it? And I have never been the one to fall on her knees, beg and make a scene, have I?’

He forced himself to revive some of their banter. ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about the scene.’

The smile he received in return for his efforts was only half-hearted and didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Hilarious. I mean it, though. What good would it do? It won’t change anything.’ She shivered. ‘The board is set now anyway. If we could change anything, then we have done that. What else can we do but wait and see how it all turns out?’ The defeat was in her tone now, too.

‘We can fight,’ Thorin replied.

‘ _You_ can fight,’ Kate reminded him. Some of her spirit made a reappearance. ‘Whereas I’ll be sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, with a babysitter all day.’ She frowned. ‘I haven’t had one of those for ages, Thorin. I can look after myself, you know. It’s not as if there are orcs stopping by here anyway. And if they did get into the Mountain, one guard who’s barely reached his majority is not going to stop them from having their way.’

Now it was Thorin’s turn to frown. ‘How did you know about his age?’ he wondered. ‘I thought you said you found it difficult to determine the age of a dwarf?’

‘From his appearance I wouldn’t know, agreed.’ The smile was a little less half-hearted now. Only a little. ‘His behaviour on the other hand…’ Kate threw in another snort. ‘He’s like an enthusiastic puppy bouncing around the room. What’s that expression Dori keeps going on about? More beard than sense?’

‘He has quite a beard,’ Thorin pointed out.

‘So has Nori, and the less said about his common sense, the better,’ Kate countered. ‘I don’t mind him, really. I understand why he’s got to play bodyguard for the day.’ That look of hers told Thorin that she probably understood more than he wanted her to. ‘I don’t have to like it.’

‘No, you don’t,’ he agreed. But as long as she would listen, he at least could go into battle knowing that she was safe and that he would not cause her death. That was a relief to know. ‘But I’ll feel better for it.’

‘I suppose it allows you to focus on getting back to me alive,’ Kate said in that would-be nonchalant tone of voice that didn’t fool Thorin for even a second. But this was what they did, dancing around the subject of feelings, as they had done since the moment they realised that there was an awful lot more than mere friendship going on between them. They always read between the lines when it came to feelings. And really, what need was there for words when they knew what the other meant without them anyway? ‘Which you will. I ordered you, remember?’ She shivered, but it didn’t look like the cold had anything at all to do with it.

‘I remember.’ He did. He just didn’t know if it was an order he could follow. If he couldn’t, it would not be for lack of trying, of that he was certain, but in battles trying sometimes wasn’t enough. He needed luck as well, and allies on his side.

‘You really do need to get into your armour now,’ Kate said. ‘No use in running onto the battlefield in only your trousers and tunic.’ She chuckled, but it sounded forced. ‘Now that would be a nice picture.’

The conversation was coming to an end, but it felt as if not all had been said, not all had been done, before he entered the battlefield. He didn’t immediately realise it, but then he remembered Glóin and Bombur kissing their wives goodbye before they set out on the quest. Aye, that was what was missing here.

And so he took her face into his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to push away the thought that this might be the very last time he would be at liberty to do this. When the sun set, he may see her once more, or he would have departed to the Halls of Waiting, never to lay eyes on Kate again. She was a woman of Men, and would not share his fate. Even the elves did not know where her kind went after they had died. Thorin only knew that she would go to a different place than he.

He remembered a story his tutors had once tormented him with, in the days before the dragon came. An elvish love story it was, of Beren, the mortal man, and Lúthien, the immortal elf maiden who gave up immortality to be with the one she loved, even after death. But that was a story, and he was no elf that he could give up immortal life to follow Kate to whatever place she went to after dying, and she was no dwarf and would not be given entrance to the halls of his forefathers.

Of course he would only think of this now, when death was such an imminent possibility. Thorin wondered what was going through Kate’s mind, but thought better than to ask. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it spoken, not after the naked panic he had seen in her eyes.

‘Spend some time with your brothers,’ he told her brusquely when he ended the kiss. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t.’ He spoke from experience there. In the days before Azanulbizar he hadn’t been able to spend much time with Frerin, something he had bitterly regretted after the battle, when he carried his brother’s broken body to a pyre.

‘What about you?’ she asked.

‘I have some things I need to see to,’ he replied. He had. It wasn’t a lie.

Kate nodded. ‘Okay.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I love you.’ She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth, just a fleeting touch, and then she darted back inside, leaving him cursing his own inability to speak the same words to her.

But he shouldn’t think like this was their last goodbye. Nothing was certain yet, nothing was set in stone. The book didn’t need to have the right of it, and as long as he remembered that, he had a chance. And he had indeed things to do. It was something he had thought about long and hard, but in the end he had come to the conclusion that it might be the best solution.

And so Thorin walked back inside, eyes searching the room for the company burglar. He found the hobbit in the far corner near the door, struggling to put on the mithril shirt Thorin had gifted him the day before, clearly unaccustomed to donning armour. It was a wise decision to wear it, though, even if he would not go near the fight. There was no telling if a single orc or a small group would or wouldn’t slip into the Mountain unseen. Better to be prepared than to be caught unawares.

‘Master Baggins,’ he greeted.

The hobbit hadn’t seen him coming, and consequently dropped his the small sword he’d been trying to attach to his belt, unsuccessful thus far. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I…’

‘It is of no consequence,’ Thorin assured him. ‘Do you require any help?’

‘It would not go amiss,’ the company burglar admitted reluctantly. ‘We hobbits are not usually warriors and we haven’t fought in battles for many years, not since Bullroarer Took killed the Goblin King in the Battle of the Green Fields.’

Thorin had to hide a smile at the mental picture of a hobbit charging into battle; it didn’t seem like something hobbits would do. ‘I have never heard of this,’ he said truthfully, listening with growing amusement and admiration to the story Bilbo told him whilst he fixed the hobbit’s armour. These creatures really had hidden depths. It seemed that Gandalf’s brain had not been all that addled by his smoking after all.

‘According to Gandalf that was how the game of golf was invented, but I think he made that up,’ the hobbit finished, suddenly looking up at Thorin inquiringly. ‘But you didn’t come here to listen to my family history, did you?’

Thorin shook his head. ‘I have come to ask a favour.’ He had, and it felt strange to do so, especially when he had not been on good terms with Bilbo Baggins for most of the journey, or at the very least had entertained doubts about his usefulness.

The hobbit’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. ‘A favour?’

‘Indeed.’ There was a last remnant of doubt about this plan still lingering in his mind, but this was not the time for doubts. He needed to act. And so he pulled out the Arkenstone. ‘I cannot take this with me into battle,’ he said. The risk of it getting lost and falling into enemy hands was just too great. And now that Nói had proven to be a traitor, could he really trust his own kin? ‘I entrust it to you for safekeeping.’

Bilbo’s eyes all but popped out of their sockets when Thorin pressed the gem into his hands. ‘Why would you ask that of me?’ He seemed even more confused than he had already been when Thorin had announced that he had a favour to ask. ‘I am not a dwarf.’

‘Exactly.’ That was exactly the reason Thorin had selected the burglar for the task.

‘But Kate would surely…’

Thorin cut off his objections. ‘You are the company burglar, Master Baggins, and you have an uncanny gift to hide, which is why I am asking you to look after my family’s heirloom. And if I do not return, I want you to give it either to my sister-sons or to my sister.’ Not to Dáin. He didn’t really speak those words, not with so many of Dáin’s men in the room, but he believed that the message had come across well enough. Bilbo’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he seemed to take the hint and nodded. It was a relief that there was no protest against the notion of him dying from his lips. They both knew it was an option. They had both read the book, although Thorin would have to confess to not having wanted the hobbit to do that. But what done was done. No changing it now.

He was rewarded with a solemn nod. ‘Not…?’ He shot a quick glace to Dáin’s men, making it clear what he was thinking.

‘Not,’ Thorin confirmed. He was grateful that his cousin had come, but that didn’t mean he trusted him, not entirely, not after he had failed him before. And not after he had discovered a traitor amongst his cousin’s most trusted advisors. Elvaethor had warned him that they may not have seen the last of his treason yet, and Thorin was inclined to agree with him for just this once. It would be foolish beyond imagination to rake risks now. ‘Take care, Master Baggins. And may your sword serve you well, should you have a need of it.’ Which he sincerely hoped would not be necessary.

‘I wish you good luck,’ the hobbit said, sounding somewhat uncertain, as if he didn’t know what to say to someone who went into battle. He probably didn’t know; in the Shire there were no wars, not for generations. It sounded very strange to someone like Thorin, who’d fought all his life, in one way or the other.

‘Thank you.’ Why was it whenever he tried to speak his heart that his tongue tied itself into knots and his words sounded awkward and formal? ‘I was mistaken about you when we first met, Master Burglar, and I offer my apologies. You have been very valuable to this quest indeed, and I am sorry for doubting you.’

‘I was doubting me, too,’ the hobbit confessed. ‘So I suppose that makes it entirely forgivable.’

‘Maybe,’ Thorin allowed. ‘Take good care.’

He left the hobbit with that, turning to speak to Lufur about his duties. Kate was not entirely wrong about his attitude, and now that she had mentioned it to him, he could almost too easily recognise the puppy-like qualities she had spoken of. But they would need every able-bodied and level-headed dwarf for the battle, and Lufur was easy to spare. He was side-tracked en-route by Róni, who informed him that outside the gates, the battle had commenced, and that they should get into position. Thorin snapped at him to make sure that it was done then, and added in slightly milder tones that he would join them as soon as his business was concluded. No point in alienating allies after all.

He found Lufur inspecting his weapons. The moment the young dwarf caught sight of Thorin, he jumped to his feet and made a low bow, puppy behaviour instantly abandoned, which put Thorin’s nerves slightly more at ease. ‘Sire.’

‘You will look after the queen and Mr Bilbo Baggins,’ he ordered him.

‘With my life,’ Lufur replied. Strangely enough it didn’t sound like something he would only say because it was expected of him, but something he actually meant. Here was a dwarf who took his duties seriously, which was something to be grateful for. ‘No orc will harm them while I can still breathe and hold a sword. I give you my word.’

Those were big words for one so young, but they put Thorin’s heart at ease. ‘I am relying on you.’

There was no more time for words. There was no telling when Gandalf would give the sign, and now that his business had indeed been concluded, everything that needed saying had been said, and there was a battle that awaited him. And so he made his way to the front gate, taking over the command from Róni, who seemed to be just that bit too comfortable with being in charge, and made sure he had all the weapons on him he needed.

During his conversation with Bilbo he had lost sight of Kate, but he saw her now, making her way to him. For a moment he feared she would make a scene after all, but she was calm and collected. The only thing that gave her away was the look in her eyes, one of fear and unadulterated terror that she nonetheless tried to hide. Róni didn’t look too pleased to see her, and Kate in turn completely ignored him.

‘I don’t think I wished you luck already,’ she said. Thorin wondered if he could hear a tremor in her voice or that he was only imagining it. Probably the latter.

‘You did,’ he said. _In your very own way_. Without words. But then, that was how they worked together.

‘Can’t hurt to hear it twice,’ Kate shrugged. She took a deep breath. ‘Well, if you lose your sword, you know where to find the spare.’ _Come back_ , was what he heard underneath the joke. _Don’t you dare die. Come back to me._

‘I do,’ he said, remembering the story Elvaethor had told them about the origins of their blades. _I will. I will if only I can._

He didn’t know what would have happened to his resolve not to address the emotions he felt if not at that moment he had been told that the sign had been given and that the time to fight was upon them. There was no fear, though; Thorin had seen too much of battle and death both to be frightened of it any longer.

‘Take care,’ he reminded her. ‘Live. It’s an order from your king.’

She half-smiled when she remembered her own words to him. ‘You remember your orders, and I’ll remember mine. Good luck. The very best of luck.’ There definitely _was_ a tremor this time.

But time was up, and the army was moving. And so Thorin for the moment banished Kate from his mind as he left the gate and threw himself into the fray with all that he had. It had begun.

 

***

 

Saying goodbye was about the hardest thing Kate had ever done. That was a hard fact. It was even harder because the people she bade good luck might not even come back. And so Kate found herself looking at their faces, wondering who would still be here come nightfall. She tried not to, but it was hard. The fear and tension made her stomach tie itself in knots – again – making it impossible for her to swallow a single bite of the breakfast both Bombur and Dori insisted she ate. Kate knew that she would find it easier if she’d be certain that all of the members of the company – _all right, admit it, Andrews, they’re your friends_ – would come back, preferably alive and with all their limbs still in their proper places. The thing was that she didn’t know, didn’t know what would happen and who would live and who would die.

That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? The uncertainty, the fear for their lives. At the same time it was also hugely frustrating that she would be sitting on her backside, safe, and in no form of danger whatsoever, while they were risking their lives. It was a very mixed feeling, because common sense also informed her that she would be no use to anyone if she would join them there; her skills with a sword were nowhere near up to scratch, so she would be a liability to them, the very thing to put them all at risk, and that was the last thing Kate would want. But there was something undeniably frustrating about not being able to help her friends. It made her feel so powerless, like she was drowning and could not keep her head above the water.

Her conversation with Thorin had only made her more jumpy, more frightened. She hadn’t heard him admit to the possibility of danger for quite some time now, and it was unsettling to hear him speak so plainly about the possibility of him not returning. Of course they had known for months that it was very well possible that he would not live to see his kingdom restored, but it was something else entirely to hear it spoken about. It made it real, inevitable almost.

And then there had been the kiss. Kate could still feel his lips on hers, desperation and maybe even something akin to fear in it. There had been too much force behind it, too much urgency. It was as if he was telling her without words what neither of them wanted to acknowledge. _I won’t lose him. I can’t lose him._ Maybe she was making another attempt at being a soppy cliché of a fanfiction heroine, but at the moment, she truly could not care less. All that Kate knew was that at the moment this was very real and very frightening, and she would not even be in the battle.

 _But you don’t need to be in a battle to be afraid_. And that was true as well, especially when it wasn’t her own life she was afraid for. The company at least could fight, influence the outcome of events, and Kate envied them for that. She envied them the options they had, that she so obviously had not. It was annoying, if nothing else.

But then there had been that last thing Thorin had said to her. _Spend some time with your brothers. You’ll regret it if you don’t._ Kate was no fool; she knew how to read subtext, and this last piece of advice was nothing less than him admitting there was a distinct possibility they might not come back to her. She had fled then, even though she had probably masked it well. The thought of loss was all but paralysing.

Kate had followed the advice all the same, literally marching over to her brothers. It was true that she had not always been on the best of terms with them – were siblings ever? – but they cared enough about her to call her their sister, and she cared about them in return.

‘Need some help with that armour?’ she asked when Dori was obviously struggling to get some piece on his back adjusted.

‘I can manage.’ The words sounded gruff.

‘We see that,’ Nori commented. It was the usual jabs and taunts for him, but Kate could have sworn there was something forced about it, as if he was just trying to keep up the banter to avoid facing the fact that there was a very real battle coming. It was like it had been before they had gone in to kill Smaug, exactly the same. The banter wasn’t really banter, but more of a way to prevent thinking about what was to come, a way to mask fear. It was all but driving Kate insane.

But it was a way to survive, a way to keep going, and to keep their sanity, whilst not acknowledging that the danger was real. And there was something very tempting about that kind of behaviour, because it kept the panic at bay. But then there was that advice of Thorin’s, to spend time with them, so that she wouldn’t have any regrets. And she had left her own world with more regrets than she wanted to think about already – never having said goodbye to her friends and family, never having made things right with her father, not being the bridesmaid at Jacko and Jane’s wedding as Jane had asked her to because she didn’t have any siblings of her own… the list was seemingly endless – and she would not make the same mistake in this one, would she?

‘You’re forever looking after us,’ she pointed out.

‘Smothering us,’ Nori chimed in.

‘And helping us,’ Kate went on.

‘Lecturing us, more like,’ Nori corrected. ‘No, nagging is more accurate.’

Kate snorted. ‘Ori, would you poke him for me? The thing is, we should help you out every now and then. So, for heaven’s sake, will you stand still and let me fix this for you? I’ve seen enough armour over the past months to know the basics.’ Kate wasn’t sure she could really bring herself to say more; she wasn’t any better at talking about feelings than she had been when she first came to Middle Earth. Now it was just necessary to talk about them before it was all too late.

 _You’re being a bit of a drama queen, Andrews_ , she told herself when Dori finally conceded that he indeed could do with a little help and granted her access to his back. _You don’t even know how bad things are going to be._

No, but they could be bad. Better to anticipate the worst and be reassured than to be too optimistic and have it all taken away without ever saying the things that had to be said.

And maybe she was being too dramatic and way too pessimistic about it all, but then, she had never been expecting that she would ever be so close to an actual battle, ones that weren’t fought half a world away where she could easily ignore them. Nobody she knew had ever been actively involved in a war and she was woefully unprepared to deal with any of it. Not making a fool out of herself would do for the moment, she supposed. If that was going to get her through this battle, that remained to be seen.

‘All sorted,’ she told Dori. ‘No doubt the orcs will run from you in fear.’

‘He only has to shake his finger at them and say “now, see here…”’ Nori agreed. ‘They’ll throw down their weapons and turn tail to run for their mothers.’

Ori, who had been very quiet thus far, suddenly chuckled. No, _giggled_. In the way Kate herself giggled when she was so ridiculously nervous that it seemed quite impossible to talk normally. Meaning, this was wrong.

‘Imagine the chronicles,’ he said. ‘And Dori, son of Haldr, came out onto the battlefield, shook his finger at the might of the orcs, and spoke the legendary words “now, see here! Look at the mess you are making. Do you expect me to clean it all up for you?” The orcs, hearing these terrifying words and seeing this terrifying gesture, all fled before him in fear. And thus the battle was won, and the orcs were taught manners at the same time.’

Kate didn’t know why this was suddenly so funny that it had her succumbing to giggles that sounded hysterical even to her own ears. The joke was funny, but it wasn’t _that_ funny. Maybe it was because Ori had started giggling all over again and Nori was laughing so hard that he had literally fallen over. Even Dori, who as it was had begun his legendary ‘now, see here…’ speech, abandoned the lecturing in favour of an indulgent smile.

And for some reason this was horribly wrong. Nori, Ori and Kate having a laugh over Dori’s manners was nothing out of the ordinary at all; Dori gave them enough cause to laugh at him from time to time, but then he always lectured them about it, because it was bad manners. He never ever joined in the fun; he was too much of a killjoy – Nori’s description, not hers – for it. The fact that he was actually smiling now indicated that something was not as it should be. It killed her laughter instantly.

‘Well, much as I’d love to see that, let’s stick to realism instead,’ she suggested. She’d much rather not stick with realism – it was far too bleak and depressing at the moment – but escapism wasn’t going to do them any favours now either. They would have to face it, and soon. She’d heard one of Dáin’s men say that the orcs had arrived and that the battle was beginning. This had been five minutes ago. For all she knew, it had already begun outside. The windows had been blocked, to keep outsiders out, but it also kept the sound of fighting well away from her ears, something she was secretly grateful for. She didn’t need a reminder of what was going on, not when her own imagination was doing such an amazing job of reminding her of all the things that could happen, might even be happening already.

Of course it was Ori who heard what she wasn’t saying. He may be the quietest of the brothers – which was actually his best characteristic, as the arguing his elder brothers could become very tiring – but he also had the best intuition. ‘We’ll be back before you know it,’ he assured her. He reached inside his bag. ‘Look, I found this in the library.’ He held out an old and dusty book to her.

‘The library?’ she asked, confused, taking the book all the same.

Ori smiled a brilliant smile at her. ‘I’ve found it two weeks ago,’ he informed her. ‘But you were busy, and then I got reading and I forgot to tell you.’ That sounded like Ori, yes. ‘So we really have to go and take a look at it after the battle. It’s so huge, and the dragon never even got there. Not shiny enough, I think. Dragons only have interest in gems and gold and the like. There are so many books there, you wouldn’t believe it.’

Kate almost smiled, but at the same time it also reminded her of just how young Ori was. This might be stupid of her, because Ori had several decades on her, and by the time she was his age, she would count as old. But he wasn’t old in his behaviour, was he? And that was the whole point, the thing that made her bite her lip in order not to say something about how he shouldn’t be in this battle, how none of them should be in this battle. What could she care about others when her loved ones were to march out, maybe even to their own deaths?

 _You are a selfish little girl, Andrews_. Common sense made another appearance. _If you’re going to be a queen, it is about time that you acted the part. No more of this soppy behaviour. Pull yourself together!_

Just this once she didn’t disregard what it had to say immediately, because it was right, and she was behaving and thinking like a child. There were others, beside the ones she counted friends and family. If she was indeed going to be a queen, that was a lesson she had better learn very soon. _But then, you’ll only be a queen if Thorin survives…_

She squashed the thought. No, she didn’t have time for that now. So she smiled at Ori with a smile that might hopefully convince him that she wasn’t scared out of her mind for all of them. ‘What’s it about?’

‘It’s the history of Erebor from its founding,’ he replied, looking like it was the best treasure he could have possibly stumbled across. After all, what would he want with gems and gold when there were books to be had? If only Thorin granted him the position of head librarian, Kate doubted he would even want his share of the treasure. ‘It’s in Khuzdul, so it may be something of a challenge for you still, but it’s good practise and it’s about the kingdom you’re going to rule, so I thought it’d be useful, and it’ll keep you occupied until we get back. You won’t even notice we’re gone.’

 _Except that I_ will _notice, and I won’t be able to focus on anything_. But she kept those words to herself, because she was moved, extremely so, by the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and she’d be damned if she was going to cry now. The fact that he had gone to such lengths to make sure that she would have something to do other than worrying herself crazy while the battle raged on was something that was typically Ori, so selfless in his own unique way. But he really ought to worry more about himself. She was not the one in danger of getting killed, after all.

‘Thanks,’ she said, trying to sound her normal self. ‘It’ll help enormously.’

The wide smile she got in response for that convinced her that she had indeed done the right thing in answering as she did.

‘Of course we do expect you to be able to teach us our history when we come back,’ Kíli’s voice said behind her. ‘With such a book at your disposal…’

‘Either you have a faulty idea about how long a battle lasts or you have a far too high expectation of the speed with which I read,’ Kate countered, holding the tome up for his inspection. It was heavy and large, and possibly more suitable for weightlifting than reading.

‘Possibly the latter,’ Fíli said. ‘He’s been going on about how we’ll be back before lunchtime since dawn.’ He smiled, but seemed less optimistic than his brother, because the smile didn’t reach his eyes, although on closer inspection, Kíli’s optimism seemed a bit too optimistic to be entirely genuine either. Why was this so not helpful in calming her down again?

She went with the banter, though. ‘I’ll have lunch ready then, shall I?’ It helped, a little. ‘Just make sure you’re here to eat it. I’ll be all put out if you make me do all that work for nothing.’ And that was a mild way of putting it.

‘I’ll look after them,’ yet another voice said. Kate didn’t even need to turn around to know that it was Dwalin who had spoken.

She turned all the same. ‘I know.’ She did know. It was more or less Dwalin’s job to look after Durin’s line, since they were so prone to trouble.

‘I already promised their mother I’d keep an eye on them,’ Dwalin shrugged as Dori told the others it was time to go, and led them away, leaving Dwalin and Kate to follow at a slightly slower pace. ‘And Thorin said they might need some additional looking after. Because of that book of yours.’

Kate grimaced. As if she needed reminding at this point. ‘Did he say that he might need some “additional looking after” himself, or was that something he conveniently forgot to mention to you?’

She had a frown released on her. ‘The book mentions his…?’

Kate didn’t give him the opportunity to say death. ‘It does.’

‘And he knows?’ Dwalin apparently hadn’t known about this, but given Thorin’s repeated statements that he wasn’t afraid for himself, that should hardly surprise her. It did worry her, though.

‘He’s known since our stay at Beorn’s. I thought he’d told you. Since you are such good friends and all.’ She shook her head in frustration. ‘I should have known that he would panic more about Fíli and Kíli than about himself, the bloody fool.’

‘Aye, that’s Thorin for you,’ Dwalin agreed. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him as well. I’d do that anyway, whether you’d asked me or not.’

It was a relief to know that, even though she hadn’t really needed the verbal affirmation to know. Thank the heaven for Dwalin. ‘You’ll need to keep an eye on yourself as well,’ she reminded him. ‘I know we didn’t always get on in the past, but I’d prefer you alive over dead, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘Aye, I’d prefer you alive as well.’ Dwalin didn’t exactly meet her eyes as he said that, but it sounded as if he meant it.

‘For Thorin’s sake,’ Kate understood. She didn’t make herself any illusions on that account, not from Dwalin. He’d never really liked her, so he wouldn’t start to do so now, but he at least didn’t consider her a danger to his king anymore. He might even think of her as an ally, although she wouldn’t put any money on that.

‘Partly, yes,’ was the answer. ‘But you’re not half-bad company, lass. And your book has proven to be of value.’

Kate supposed that was as much of a declaration of friendship as she was likely to get, but she appreciated it. ‘So, we part as friends then?’

‘That we do.’

The pat he gave on her shoulder almost made her stumble and fall, but that had probably not been the intent. After all, she was a lot less strong than the average dwarf, and the force of his kind pat might have made someone else sprawl on the floor. Kate would have done that, had she not fallen against the unmoveable back of her eldest brother.

‘We’ll have to work on your balance,’ Dwalin remarked. ‘When all’s said and done.’

‘Probably,’ she agreed.

They had entered the hall now, filled with dwarf warriors, many of them covered literally from top to toe in armour. From a good few she could only see the beards and the noses, which didn’t do much in helping her to tell one from the other. Thorin however was easy to recognise, because he hadn’t put his helmet on yet and was talking to another dwarf who was also still holding his helmet in his hands, one she recognised immediately as Róni, older brother of her babysitter for the day, and the dwarf who had the questionable honour of disliking her the most, for whatever reason he had for that.

‘I don’t think I wished you luck already,’ Kate said, marching in Thorin’s direction. There was a sudden anxiety taking hold of her again. Or maybe it wasn’t all that sudden; it had been there since the moment she had learned there really was going to be a battle, but it had abated somewhat during her brief conversation with Dwalin. The fear of losing loved ones was still very much present, and the thought of letting Thorin go out without a final goodbye made her almost panic all over again, which would not be helpful. So she schooled her face into an expression of calm and hoped to God that was enough to convince everyone.

Thorin seemed to understand. His mouth had been a thin line of annoyance – never a good sign – but his expression softened somewhat. ‘You did,’ he said. The words sounded formal, but that was just something Thorin did when he was anxious about something. He didn’t really seem to mind her presence.

Kate shrugged. ‘Can’t hurt to hear it twice.’ Really, this was awkward, because she had no idea how to do this, how to say goodbye, in front of everyone, with people watching her every move, some of them probably just waiting for her to make a mistake. _Oh, don’t be such a marshmallow, Andrews._ So she took a deep breath and followed Doris advice of being herself. ‘Well, if you lose your sword, you know where to find the spare.’ To an outsider it probably sounded way too casual for a wife to say to her husband when she sent him off to fight, but she could do this better than soppy romance, and there was no doubt that Thorin knew exactly what she meant. He knew who carried the spare, after all.

There was almost a smile when he answered, confirming that he indeed understood the message. ‘I do,’ he said. Kate only hoped that she hadn’t imagined the subtext that said he would come back if only he could, but that it was something he had actually intended to say. ‘Take care,’ he added. ‘Live. It’s an order from your king.’

Kate only half-smiled at that, recognising her own words to him. ‘You remember your orders, and I’ll remember mine.’ It was as good a deal as she could make. Besides, she was not the one walking into a battle. ‘Good luck. The very best of luck.’ _Don’t you even think about dying. Come back. I don’t care what it takes. All of you need to come back, need to come home._

But that was a young girl’s wish, clinging to the idea that her loved ones would come home if only she wanted it enough. Life didn’t work that way. It should work like that, if only life was fair, and Kate had seen enough of life in both worlds she had seen to know that life was seldom fair, if it ever was. If that idea had not yet dawned on her, it did as she watched the army leave through the gate, squeezing itself past the dragon. The only thing left for her to do was to shut the gate and bolt it tightly, until the battle was over. The dragon would make it difficult for enemies to get to the gate, and the plan was to not even let them near that beast. The shutting of the gate was just a safety measure, Thorin had said, but to Kate it felt like she was cutting off the only way of escape. She sent him in there and locked the door so he couldn’t come back. Or that was what it felt like. After all, this had been an order he had meant for her to follow.

 _And now the hours of anxiety begin_ , she thought as the three of them – Bilbo, Lufur and Kate herself; the only living beings still under the Mountain, if one didn’t count Nói, who was still locked in the dungeon and likely to remain there indefinitely – bolted the gate and did a step back to see if all was done well. All three of them were wearing armour and weapons – just in case – but it seemed a bit stupid. The Mountain was eerily quiet, all the sounds from outside muffled so much that Kate honestly could not make anything of it.

‘You’re certain everything is locked?’ Bilbo asked. He didn’t seem to escape the anxiety any more than she did. And even Lufur looked a bit jumpy. But it was as much the thought of the battle as the thought of being all alone in this huge Mountain that made her look around her in unease.

‘It is,’ she said. It was good to hear the sound of a voice, even if only just her own; it made her feel less alone, made the silence seem less frightening. And it was the truth she spoke. They had spent the better part of yesterday afternoon finding all the windows and doors to balconies and shutting them so that no orc with a gift for climbing could drop in on them. ‘Everything’s boarded up. Even Smaug possibly wouldn’t be able to get back in, and it’s not as if the orcs can just come in by the…’ It was only when she said that, that Kate Andrews realised she had forgotten something very important after all. ‘… Backdoor. _Shit_!’ She turned on her heels and _ran_.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _How in heaven’s name could I forget about the bloody side door? We’ve shut every door imaginable, we even practically shut every mouse hole in the walls, so how could we have possibly overlooked the side door? We might as well have put a neon sign over it. I’ve been a bloody idiot!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter turned out all right, since it was pretty difficult to write and to get it right. It took me quite a bit of time, which leads me to the next point: my stories are going to take a holiday for a few weeks. Real life is really busy at the moment and demands a lot of my attention and time. Don’t worry, it’ll be for three weeks at most, so please have a little patience with me. I’ll be back.  
> Next time we get to see what’s going on at the backdoor and Thorin has a run-in with the insect.  
> Please review?


	82. Forced Entry

_The side door; great way of entering the Mountain when one doesn’t want to use the front gate, especially when there’s still a dragon, but a bloody liability when orc armies attack and one has forgotten to shut it. To top it all off nicely, we hadn’t even removed the makeshift ladder made of rope that hung down all the way into the valley, Elvaethor’s preferred way of avoiding a long hike when he made his food deliveries. The end result of that stupidity? We had given the orcs a perfect way to enter Erebor should they feel like it. The thing was that it was almost certain they felt like it, because why else would they have sent such armies in our direction? Our only hope was in the possibility that they had been too busy attacking the armies awaiting them that they had not yet paid attention to the possibility of a side door. After all, we hadn’t told Nói about it, so it was possible that it was still a secret after all._

_The lesson to be learned from this? Never ever forget about the backdoor. Seriously, my dears, I still can’t even begin to figure out how we forgot about it in the first place. You’d think that this was the first thing we sealed off, because it was the most obvious one. So why did we forget about it? The truth is that I am not entirely sure. I do however have a theory. I think that because it was the most obvious entrance into the Mountain apart from the main gate, everyone thought that someone else had already seen to it, because it was the most obvious entrance. Well, of course Dáin’s men didn’t know about the door, something we intended to tell them about, but hadn’t gotten round to actually doing it. The company of course did know about the door, but hadn’t shut it, possibly for the reason I just mentioned._

_Suffice it to say that we had been a bunch of bloody fools and leave it at that, because honestly, we had been exactly that. Or maybe it is just because backdoors are a weakness, wherever you go. If there is anything I have learned from this quest, then it is probably this very thing. Let me explain._

_When we got captured in Goblin-town is the first of my examples. Of course we were dragged in through the emergency exit – something that still sounds so positively ungoblinlike to me that I still have trouble believing they actually had one – but we got out through the backdoor. Not, I have to admit, that this was a particular weak spot of the goblins, since they had about half an army posted in front of it when we made our escape, but having a wizard with you sometimes really does have some advantages._

_I am not quite sure if we could rightly call the trap door in Thranduil’s cellars a backdoor, but I suppose it is close enough to one, and it was also one he had completely failed to pay attention to before we made our escape from it. Afterwards he had it guarded more closely than a dragon guards its treasure, so I reckon it wasn’t a weak spot anymore then._   
_So really, it should not be such a surprise that we ourselves had completely overlooked the backdoor. The thing is, we really should have known better. After all, it was that very door which allowed us to enter Erebor unnoticed and helped us enormously in killing Smaug. He certainly must have understood the danger of such a door in the moments before he breathed his fiery last. And still we made the same mistake as the dragon in simply forgetting about the secret door. I am not all that sure that I want to know what that says about us…_

 

Kate Andrews ran. She ran as if the devil herself was at her heels, not even stopping to check whether Lufur and Bilbo were following. She was only running, hoping and praying that she had not just made the mistake of a lifetime in forgetting all about the bloody door, hoping that the orcs had not noticed the ladder and that there would still be time to cut the ropes loose that would be the end of the ladder and then shut the door. When that was done, it would look like just a piece of rock, nothing special, even when she didn’t have the key to lock it. Well, they could think of something.

There shouldn’t be a reason to believe that the orcs even knew about the door. It was a secret door for a reason; hardly anybody knew of its existence. But of course Elvaethor had to come up with the idea of a ladder, making it perfectly obvious to anyone with a brain that there was something up there at the end of it. Taking into consideration that the orcs were coming down from the north, that meant that they practically walked past the bloody thing. How could they not notice?

There was a very simple answer to this. They would notice. Of course they would. And they would be fools if they didn’t notice. And she had been as stupid not to think of this fact before the army had left and there was nobody left to defend the Mountain save a young and fairly inexperienced dwarf warrior, a hobbit burglar with a letter opener for a sword and a human wannabe Queen under the Mountain who knew just enough of a sword to tell the pointy end from the hilt. It sounded like the making of a very bad and rather tasteless joke to Kate. They were hardly the stuff of legend, hardly the kind of people who would be able to defend an entire kingdom on their own. But there was nobody but them, and there was no option to rush out into the fray and raise the alarm. It was all down to them. _Heavens, what a mess_.

It was difficult to hear over the pounding of her heart and the sound of her own footsteps on the stone, but when she tried to she could hear at least on other pair of footsteps following behind, heavy boots, so definitely Lufur, because Bilbo didn’t wear any shoes.

‘What is the matter?’ He sounded thoroughly confused and seemed to have trouble keeping up with her. Well, that was the one advantage – the only advantage – she had when it came to dwarves; she had the edge on them in speed.

‘The side door,’ Kate panted. Normally she wouldn’t be this quickly out of breath, but she had been sitting around doing nothing for the past two weeks and that wasn’t doing her any favours now. ‘It’s still opened.’

‘I thought…’ Bilbo said, pausing the speech to gasp for breath. ‘Bofur said…’ Another gasp. ‘He closed it.’

Kate shook her head. ‘He was going to, before Thorin said someone surely had done that already and sent him to the southeast wing.’ If they lived through this, she was going to kill him for that. It was only now that she recalled with perfect clarity that Thorin had demanded reports of everything that had been done, of every window and door that had been closed. Only now did she realise what was missing: any mention of the door, the only door that truly mattered. And Bofur, the only one under this thrice-cursed Mountain with a bit of sense, had been sent off to do something that was absolutely unnecessary. She was definitely going to kill Thorin for this.

It was a strange sensation, because suddenly all the fear, all the anxiety, vanished quicker than it took for her to blink her eyes. No, that was not entirely true, because she was frightened, terrified even, but not for the fate of her loved ones. Her mind was focused on the task ahead. In this very moment it was her duty – there was that word again – to keep the enemy out of Erebor, and the only thing she feared was that she would not be able to do what it took. Was she strong enough? Skilled enough? The truth was that she didn’t know, only that she would have to be strong enough. _You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have._ The words attacked her mind with the force of striking lightning. She must have heard them once in her own world, even though she could not recall who said them or where she heard them. But there was truth in them, because being weak was not an option now. _And now you’re just playing at being a fanfiction heroine discovering hidden talents in your hour of need_. Could it be even more cliché?

She ignored the voice in the back of her head, though. Now was really not the time to start doubting herself. Instead she poured all her energy into running, silently thanking Nori for taking her on a few of his outings so that she at least had the main routes and some of the shortcuts memorised. Otherwise she may have needed to go round and lose even more time than she had lost already. As it was, she may already be too late.

There was only one other pair of footsteps audible behind her, but she supposed that what with the noise Lufur and she were making, Bilbo’s footsteps would hardly stand out. If even elves with their sharp senses could not hear him when he didn’t want them to, what chance did the rest of them have? He would be following; she knew that even without turning to make sure. The hobbit was a brave fellow, that much was obvious by now.

‘I do not understand, Your Majesty!’ Lufur exclaimed, still running behind her.

The title almost stopped Kate dead in her tracks. Never once had she expected that people would address her like that. It felt like something straight out of some novel. Well, she had better get used to it now, since she was likely to become a queen. If Thorin didn’t die. If she herself survived. If the whole of Durin’s Folk didn’t believe that she wasn’t fit for the position Thorin had offered her. After all, Nói’s words about her never being accepted had sounded far too true.

‘There’s a side door,’ she explained, not slowing down. Her legs were cramping a bit, but she ignored it. ‘We entered through it when we first came here to slay the dragon in his lair, but we never closed it again.’ She took a sharp turn for the left. Only a staircase and another short corridor and then they would turn left again, into the tunnel that led straight up to the door. They’d walked this way a few times to collect all their luggage when they settled into the guards’ quarters and later she had made the journey by herself to bring back the provisions Elvaethor had brought them every other day. This was a part of Erebor she could walk with her eyes closed, so many times had she walked here. ‘And there’s a ladder hanging down into the valley below. The orcs would be fools not to see it and make use of it.’

One quick look back taught her that the confusion on Lufur’s face had made way for something that looked more like shock and the panic Kate herself experienced. Good. He realised the problem then. ‘But, Your Majesty, why was this door not closed?’

‘Because we’ve been a bunch of idiots, that’s why,’ Kate growled. There really was no other explanation for it. There certainly was no excuse for their actions, or rather lack of actions, and underneath the fear that she may already be too late, Kate mostly felt angry, with herself as much as with every other member of the company. None of them had ever spared this as much as a thought, and they were very likely to pay the price for that mistake unless they came to the door sooner than their enemies. It felt like a race against time itself. ‘And my name’s Kate.’

There were no more words. Lufur just followed her lead. Bilbo seemed to be struggling to keep up, having tripped on the stairs that were made for smaller feet than a hobbit’s and were meant to be climbed with good boots, not with bare feet. Like as not the one who had made these stairs had never even heard of hobbits in all his life, much less could he have known that one would ever come to this kingdom. As it was, Kate had the lingering suspicion a good many now deceased dwarves were turning over in their graves had they known what was currently going on in their kingdom. But never mind that now; she had a feeling Thorin’s ancestors would be more shocked to have orcs for visitors. _The race hated by every other race_ , Kate thought. _You’d almost pity them. Almost_.

The corridor was dark, almost too dark. Lufur was the only one with a torch, so the small space had a little of light, but Kate had been here so many times she didn’t need the light, even though she would doubtlessly get lost in any other part of the Mountain you cared to name. It was only thirty-four steps before the small opening into the corridor leading to the door. In the dark it was hard to miss and it was so inconspicuous that most dwarves would probably not have looked at it twice if they came through here, even before the dragon came. And even when they did feel like exploring, they came to a dead end, because the door wasn’t visible when closed, not even from the inside. Hidden in plain sight, it was, and that was the brilliancy of it.

But Kate knew where it was, as did the entire company. But there was something different this time, something that made her skid to a halt before they could enter the tunnel properly. Voices. And it were not the kind of voices one wanted to hear, especially not in a dark corridor.

‘Back,’ she hissed. ‘Put the torch out.’

Lufur gave her a confused look. ‘Your Majesty?’

‘ _Out_!’ she repeated forcefully. ‘Do it.’

Lufur still did a fish on dry land impression when the voices drifted down the corridor again and the penny finally dropped. ‘Oh.’ It did him credit that he at least did as he was told, and judging by the sounds following that, took out his axe, but she would have to do without a visual confirmation; the corridor had been plunged into darkness and she couldn’t see a single thing. Not a second ago she had been thinking that she could walk here with her eyes closed and not get lost, but it was something else entirely to have no visual information to go on at all. Oh, she still knew perfectly well where she was, but the dark was frightening, even more so because she now knew there to be orcs. And they were unlikely to merely drop in for tea and a biscuit.

‘What do we do now?’ Bilbo hissed. If she heard him right, he had positioned himself on the other side of the entrance to the tunnel.

With something of a shock Kate realised that both Lufur and Bilbo were now looking to her for leadership and for a brief moment Kate felt a wave of panic crash over her. She was not the stuff leaders were made of, and she had never been in any such situation before. Now there were orcs coming, at least ten of them, judging by the number of voices and footsteps on the floor – thank heavens that orcs couldn’t sneak around even if their lives depended on it – and here she was, being the leader of this mission. Her hands felt sweaty.

_No, you can do this. You were skilled enough when it came to bossing your classmates around when there was a group assignment. That’s what this is, a group assignment. And you have been bossing your teammates around for years. This is no different. So pull yourself together and get a bloody move on._

Kate almost smiled when she realised that, as long as she could force herself to look at this as a group assignment and not as a queen or army commander, she could indeed pull this off. Or she could pretend that she could pull this off, which was as close to taking charge as she was going to get.

‘There’s at least ten of them,’ she said softly. Whispering sounded too much like hissing, something the orcs would possibly be able to make out even over all the noise they made themselves, which would be enough to suggest a dozed elephants were waltzing through the corridor. ‘But the corridor’s not that wide own here. I’m guessing two of them, including armour and weapons, can walk next to one another. But there may be more of them coming before long.’

‘Then we must act,’ Lufur said. All of a sudden he sounded oddly determined and certain of himself. Had he done any of this before or was he, like Kate, only pretending that he knew what he was doing? ‘How long is that corridor, Your Majesty?’

‘Kate,’ she corrected automatically, before she answered the question. ‘I’d say about a hundred and fifty paces from here to the door.’ She had walked her often enough to know that.

‘No disrespect then, Your Majesty, but I have heard you are untrained in combat, as is Master Baggins. Please follow my lead.’

Kate was very grateful. ‘Please go right ahead.’ That took care of the task she didn’t know how to perform. It looked like her babysitter could at least boast some experience. She hadn’t any. Well, she had fought orcs before in Mirkwood – and only look at how that had ended – and before that she had defended herself from angry goblins, but that wasn’t exactly what she’d call experience either, because she found it hard to remember any of the things she had done then. It had been instinct and panic guiding her actions, and only because there were more experienced warriors at her side and because she had a lot of luck, had she come out of that madness alive.

Lufur did a few steps forward, so that he would be the first one to enter, something Kate didn’t like the notion of very much. Wasn’t she supposed to be the responsible one here, and letting Lufur dive headfirst into danger was not exactly responsible. But then, he was her bodyguard, and no doubt Thorin had demanded some kind of promise to look after her from him. It was his job after all. _Get a bloody grip, Andrews_.

At the same time it was a relief to have someone with her who knew what he was doing, and fact remained that there were a lot of unsavoury types lurking about and there was no one to defend Erebor from this threat but them. Running scared was really not an option now. And so she merely gripped Excalibur a little tighter, even though her hands were sweaty. _And here’s to hoping there won’t be any need to throw this sword into some lake in the near future_.

Not that there was any more time to think; Lufur had thrown himself into the fray with a Khuzdul war cry on his lips, and there really was no choice but to follow suit. _Don’t think about it, just do it._ This was something else entirely than defending yourself from attacking orcs when they threw themselves at you, Kate realised. Making a conscious decision to fight when there was an option to run was so different from fighting because there simply was nowhere to run. It required a good deal more courage to begin with, courage that she was not entirely sure she possessed.

 _Too cowardly to do this? Fine Queen under the Mountain you’ll make._ The thought crept up on her almost unexpectedly, but it proved to be the very thing she needed. Kate Andrews had never been able to turn down a challenge, apparently not even one that was issued by herself. Quite the achievement really, but this was not the time to dwell on that. And so she took one last deep breath and ran into the tunnel after Lufur, Bilbo hot on her heels.

The tunnel was far better illuminated than the dark corridor they had stood in, but that had something to do with the fact that it was filled with orcs, holding torches. And there were quite a lot of orcs at that, enough to give Kate pause and make her skid to a stop before she remembered that was not something she was going to do today. Lufur and Bilbo didn’t even seem to have realised that she had been hesitating. Lufur was focused on the fight and so, somewhat to her surprise, was Bilbo. He was charging into the fray seemingly without fear. Hobbits really were remarkable creatures. For someone only armed with a letter opener and without any real fighting experience to draw on, he was positively brave.

 _So, are you about to be beaten in that department by a hobbit, Andrews?_ No, she certainly was not. She wouldn’t be the bravest person in the known worlds, but she could make an effort for the kingdom she was apparently going to rule, and so she followed suit.

The trick was not to think about it too hard. A lot of it was instinct, and a little brainwork. Maybe it were Dwalin’s lessons finally paying off, and maybe it was fear driving her actions. Kate didn’t know, and neither did she particularly care. She just fought, using her sword on the orcs with not too bad results, and in the meantime she tried to get a grip on her own mind, trying to lock the fear and panic away for later.

Lufur was still leading the charge. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Bilbo was a bit more uncertain about his movements, but he had less to worry about. It was only  
when Kate saw that an orc was about to run him through, but failed to do so, that she remembered why. The sword pushed Bilbo back, but didn’t pierce his armour and the orc was visibly confused by that. Kate on the other hand was not. Mithril. She had been there when Thorin had gifted the mithril shirt to the burglar. And of course she had seen its uses in a movie, but to see it for real was far more impressive.

In the end it was impossible to say for how long she fought. Kate couldn’t exactly say when she slipped into what she could call battle mode, because it just happened. There was nothing but the fighting, nothing but the need to stay alive and fight. Even so, she was lucky. She came last. Bilbo and Lufur took the lead, and Kate only got the ones that were already weakened and injured by her companions. It was some unspoken agreement between those two, she’d wagered. Protect the weak female. It was the same everywhere and really, she was getting a bit annoyed with it just now.

‘That was the last.’ Bilbo sounded a bit shaky when he pulled the blade free. Kate looked at her own blade, smeared with black blood. She looked away immediately; her stomach was turning, like it had done in Goblin-town, and she was not going to throw up, not again.

Not that the rest of the tunnel made for such a cheerful sight. The floor was littered with bodies. Fortunately they were all orcs, but still. The very thought that she was personally responsible for ending lives was a very depressing one. _They should not have come here then_ , she reminded herself. _They chose to come here and they would have killed us given the slightest chance. That’s what a war is all about._

 _Focus on something else_ , she ordered. ‘I thought you didn’t let outsiders hear Khuzdul,’ Kate remarked, saying the first thing that popped up into her head.

‘We don’t,’ Lufur agreed. ‘But it doesn’t matter when it is the last thing they hear before they die.’

 _Well, that’s one way of approaching things_ , Kate thought. It was remarkable though that they weren’t looked at as outsiders, especially since Lufur could not possibly know that she was already speaking the language, reasonably well at least, according to Ori. It had seemed wise not to put her knowledge of it on display, though, not with the likes of Róni under the Mountain, pouring scorn on her every action.

‘Good point,’ she agreed. ‘Come on. Let’s get the door closed. I doubt that was the last of them.’

And it turned out that her doubt was well founded. The sight that met them on the doorstep was the farthest thing from good as it could possibly be.

***

It felt too much like Azanulbizar, Thorin thought. There were too many orcs, far too many, and the skies were clouded. The sun must be somewhere behind them, but it didn’t show itself. It was just like Azanulbizar. They had been hopeful then that the daylight would help them turn the battle in their favour, but when the day itself had dawned it had not been light. There had been dark clouds hanging over the valley, blocking most of the sunlight, granting the advantage to Azog’s forces. It seemed as if today was not all that different, except that the optimism that had preceded Azanulbizar was lacking here now. This time they knew in advance how desperate things were, but he couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse.

At least Kate was safe inside Erebor, and that was a relief. Not that she had tried very hard to come out with him; fortunately they both knew that would be a grave mistake. But she had been worried, fearing for his safety, and that was something a bit harder to get out of his mind. If this went wrong, if he died here today, then what would be left for her in this world? What would still stand between her and all the scorn this world had to offer her for the choices she’d made? The answer was that there was nothing at all. He’d seen that already. Kate had admitted that people had been insulting and rude when she had gone to the negotiations on her own. The insults had still been present when Thorin himself had come, but they had been more veiled, more concealed. People tended to watch his tongue around him more than they did with Kate. And it was hardly a secret that they loathed her passionately. It could be that her words were a reason for that, and maybe it was just her way with words that turned people against her. Either way, it was just as good a reason to stay alive as any.

Dwalin and Fíli were fighting beside him. Kíli had been about to take the place on his right, but Dwalin had squeezed in at the last possible moment, and had pulled the youngest of his sister-sons behind them. Thorin would not deny that it was a relief to have his oldest friend looking out for him and his.

‘Thank you,’ he’d said. They had just gotten rid of one of their foes, but that was not the thing he was thanking Dwalin for. He had explained that the lads would need some additional looking after, because of something in Kate’s book, and Dwalin had not asked any more questions.

‘It’s not just for Kíli,’ Dwalin said.

There was a moment when both of them had other enemies to occupy themselves, and Thorin could think about what it was that he mean. Not that it was too much of a mystery; he’d seen Kate and Dwalin sticking their heads together shortly before they had gone out. He’d really hoped that she would not inform him of the danger. The risk of her doing that was not all that big, not with things being so tense between them, even now. People didn’t go around suddenly trusting one another when they had a history of distrusting the other. A crisis however may have been considered bigger than their dislike, and so they had bonded over protecting him. He should have known that Kate was devious enough to try and keep him alive in whatever way it took, even if it meant assigning him a guard dog of his own. Not that Dwalin would take kindly to being called a dog.

‘What’d Kate tell you?’ he demanded when he next had a moment. Deep down he was touched at being so cared about, but there was some anger as well, because no one should be risking their lives for him when it would already be so difficult to keep oneself alive.

‘You’d need some additional looking after yourself,’ Dwalin said. The fool was even grinning. ‘You forgot to mention that, eh?’

‘You’re not here to protect me!’ he snapped. Did not a single one of them understand that this was so much bigger than him? They had themselves to look out for. He could protect himself. He had lived through Azanulbizar, had survived exile and orc raids. He had gotten here, chased by orcs, locked up by elves and nearly crushed to death by a giant dragon. If he had not proven by now that he could look out for himself, then he wasn’t sure what would convince everyone. After all, this was not his first battle.

‘No, that’s my secondary task,’ Dwalin replied, completely unfazed in the face of Thorin’s legendary temper.

‘And mine.’ Thorin didn’t even need to turn to know who had spoken. It was him, the insect, the only elf Kate even counted as a friend.

‘You are not supposed to be here,’ he snapped, true to form not even turning to acknowledge Elvaethor’s presence. ‘Are your people not fighting somewhere else?’

‘I’m the lookout,’ the elf informed him, shooting an arrow right over Thorin’s head and into an orc that had been going for Fíli’s head.

‘You’ll draw all of them straight to us with that hair of yours,’ Dwalin commented, a bit angrily. With all that red hair he stood out, very much so, and since he was also that tall, that made him a living target for orcs’ target practise. And Thorin was really not in the mood to explain to Kate why one she called a friend had been so badly damaged. He was not responsible for elvish welfare and neither did he want to be.

‘Some gratefulness.’ Either the elf had never seen battle before today or he had a very optimistic idea of what should happen in one.

‘We’re not grateful!’ Thorin finally turned to face him when there was a small moment. He really ought not to have been surprised, but there was not as much as a hair out of place. It looked like Elvaethor had just strolled into the battle and was casually picking off enemies as if it was something he just did between breakfast and lunch. He had not quite figured out if this was something that was unique to elfkind or if this was just Elvaethor being Elvaethor, as Kate would say it.

The looking back was a mistake he dearly paid for. He felt a searing pain going past his neck and he roared in pain. He was quick enough to realise that the blame for this could all too easily be heaped on the elf’s doorstep. He had been injured, possibly rather gravely, since it was his neck and he could feel blood. And it hardly even been five minutes since he stepped out onto the field. That was what it felt like anyway; it was hard to measure time in a battle. On one hand it felt like it had been going on a lifetime, until he didn’t remember anything else than fighting. On the other it was over in what felt like minutes and he was left wondering where time had gone.

He was aware of people dragging him and then he was dumped onto a floor. ‘Hold still.’ The voice speaking was female. ‘You are wounded, but it is not too grave.’

Thorin disregarded the order to remain still and turned his head to look at where he was and who was with him. As hairless as Elvaethor was, he didn’t exactly sound like this, not this female. He ignored the pain that burned anew when he turned around and only acknowledged its existence with a sharp hiss. He had more important things to worry about. He knew they weren’t orcs; they didn’t sound like this, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

It turned out they were in some sort of niche, squeezed in between rocks, partly hidden from sight, and he had two companions, both elves. But since both of their heads were covered with hair as fiery as Kate’s, that probably meant they would not remain hidden for long. He knew both of them, though. Elvaethor was guarding the entrance while the female, his sister Kate had said, was seeing to his wound. He could not recall her name, though, nor did he have any wish to know what she was called.

‘Hold still,’ she said, as if she was chastising a small child, which Thorin was undoubtedly not. ‘The wound is not too deep, but the blade was filthy. It may poison your blood.’  
Thorin ignored her; she was not important. ‘Did Kate tell you to look after me?’ he questioned, tone as icy as he could manage. Seeing as he was very angry about being wounded and all but abducted by elves, that was hardly a difficult achievement.

‘No, she did not.’ Elvaethor did not even look at him when he answered; just kept his eyes fixed on the battle that was raging out there. ‘I did not need to speak to her to know that you were in danger.’

Tauriel – he remembered her name now – was not really a part of this conversation; she merely dealt with his injury and that was the end of it. Thorin ignored her. ‘Then why? You have aided my people before, but not for my sake. I am assuming it was more for my wife’s.’ Elvaethor liked Kate after all. He’d hardly made a secret of that.

‘Our mutual acquaintance told me to keep an eye out for you,’ the elf replied. _Gandalf again_. ‘He did not tell me to cease my interference after you had left my king’s realm.’ Which was the most likely explanation for why he had been hanging around the Mountain for weeks. ‘I furthermore gathered that your life might be in more danger than most people’s. I am only doing my duty.’

Thorin did not believe a word of that speech. ‘You talked to Kate,’ he growled.

‘Not as such.’ How he could remain so calm was beyond Thorin, but it was annoying him. It made him feel like a toddler on the verge of a temper tantrum, whilst Elvaethor was the composed adult. ‘But your wife keeps very interesting books. One in particular had my special attention.’

Thorin didn’t even need to guess at which book could have warranted that kind of attention. ‘She gave it to you?’

‘No, I borrowed it.’ He still didn’t look back at Thorin. ‘But I am afraid I did that without her permission. She had no knowledge of it.’

It was good to know that Kate had no hand in this. ‘You would not be the first,’ he muttered under his breath. Even over the sound of the raging battle, those sharp elf ears would hear him. The longer this went on, the more people gained access to the book, and Thorin was not sure what to think of it. Bilbo Baggins was one thing; Thorin trusted him. Well, he hadn’t always, but he trusted him now. Elvaethor was not rewarded with the same courtesy. The book was dangerous and no doubt about that. It was not something everyone should have access to, least of all the elf.

‘I’d apologise, but I wouldn’t mean it,’ Elvaethor said. ‘It is too useful to be… Duck!’

Thorin could never really say why he obeyed that command, but he did, years of experience in fighting taking over, making him duck as low as he could, hands gripping the hilt of his sword, ready to defend himself the moment the danger came close. It was something he could do.

But no attack came. Instead he was lying on the ground with the female elf on top of his back. Well, she was lying more on his head than on his back and so all the sounds were muffled. He could hear voices, but nothing else, but those voices were enough to raise the hairs on his back, if they had anywhere to rise with this she-elf lying all over him. Those voices did not belong to elves, men or dwarves. He could recognise orcs everywhere, at any time, even in his sleep. He would recognise them even if his ears were so blocked. It suddenly made sense why he had to duck.

The natural reaction was to grip the sword even tighter, but there were no sounds of footsteps coming closer. If there had been people coming, he would have heard. Orcs made enough noise when they walked to wake the dead. Instead the voices seemed to be moving away from them, something Thorin disliked for a different reason. He knew their speech, but could not make anything of it, not with an elf on his back. He’d very much like her to get off. If he lived long enough, Dwalin would never let him hear the end of that.

It was as if she had heard his thoughts, because the elf rolled over and got to her feet in one fluent motion. ‘They know,’ she simply said.

‘They know what?’ His temper was dangerously close to snapping and he didn’t even feel like reining it in. He was in the middle of the battle without being really in it, and now he was kept out of the loop by two elvish guard dogs, who apparently understood the tongue of the orcs as well as he did.

‘Something about a door, a secret door.’ Tauriel shook her head. ‘Their language is very differently from how I learned it.’

‘You learned it out of a book?’ Thorin really didn’t think he should be surprised, but he was. ‘You do not learn that tongue from a book, you learn it on the battlefield, and from your prisoners.’ That was the way he had learned it, but elves, the ones who had never gotten their hands dirty, would learn it from books. Why was he not even surprised anymore? It was not until he remembered that something had been said about a side door, that he really started paying attention. ‘A side door?’

Elvaethor looked equally alarmed. ‘And they know of it?’

Tauriel looked confused. ‘That’s what it sounded like. Didn’t you hear me?’

‘Your boots were stuck in my ears, my dear little sister.’ The words were cheeky, the tone was not. And Thorin was starting to understand why. It was only now that he realised he had made one colossal mistake. He had forgotten about the side door, and therefore it was still open. The ladder was even still hanging down. The orcs must have walked right past it, no way they could have missed it.

‘Kate.’ Her name was on his lips almost immediately. Strangely enough he wasn’t concerned for Erebor or his people, but for the woman who was going to be his wife. She was in there, with only the hobbit for company and Lufur for protection. And now there were orcs on their way to kill her? Well, he knew they were not really after her, but they wanted Erebor and Kate was in there. And she didn’t know of the danger.

Elvaethor looked positively horrified. Well, it was good to know that he seemed to care. Maybe there really was some genuine affection. But then, Thorin had never doubted that. The thing he feared most was that he liked Kate too much. ‘It will take us too long to get there.’

It was the last thing Thorin wanted to hear. ‘I will not abandon her.’ He had made an oath to protect her. Even knowing that he was going to be too late, he was not the kind of person to sit back. He had fought impossible odds before and come out victorious. To stay here, to do nothing at all to save Kate, that was the wrong thing to do.

But on the other hand Thorin knew he had a responsibility towards his people, people who looked to him for leadership. There were thousands of people and he may not be the leader of all of them, but he was the king of some of them. It would be frowned upon to leave the battlefield for just one woman when so many were looking to him for commands and guidance. Lives may depend on his decision, the lives of his kin may depend on his decision. Could he let thousands die for the sake of one woman of Men who may even be dead already?

There was something far too alarming about his own impulsive response. Yes, of course he could. He had sworn to protect her. He had not promised her that she would be safe before he left; no one could promise that. But if her life would be in danger, he had thought, it would only be because the battle turned against them and all would be lost. If orcs entered the Mountain, they would only do so over his dead body, and he meant that literally. He’d die before they would gain entrance. He had never meant to leave her vulnerable, but because of his own mistakes that was exactly what he had done.

But Fíli and Kíli were on that battlefield there, risking their lives, destined to die. The book predicted it. And he could not stand by and let that happen without a fight. Over his dead body. And yet it still seemed to come to a choice, an impossible dilemma about who to save. Should he go after Kate, who could be gone before he even got anywhere near her, or should he stay and fight to protect his still living kin, as he had sworn to do? It was a straight choice between his future wife and his people. The worst thing was that Thorin knew exactly what he should be choosing. The knowledge all but broke his heart.

In the end he would never have to speak his choice, because Elvaethor and his sister took it out of his hands. ‘We’ll go,’ the former captain announced without even looking at the current captain to see if she agreed with his choice. ‘Our elf feet run faster than yours. We will see her safe.’

Never would Thorin have believed that he would gladly accept the help of elves, at least not without excessive protesting. Yet here he was, nodding at the insect without as much as a moment’s hesitation. Deep down he knew that his duty was with his people, even if that meant losing Kate. It was a harsh truth, but it was what it meant to be King under the Mountain. He could not desert his people to save one woman, but these elves could. And they had better make sure that Kate would live to see the sunset.

‘Then do it,’ he ordered brusquely. ‘Keep her alive. And the hobbit as well,’ he added as an afterthought. He had grown fond of Master Baggins, even though he had not immediately thought of him.

Elvaethor nodded, no sign of the trademark cheeky smile that Thorin had almost grown used to. ‘We will see it done. Trust me.’

Not all that long ago, Thorin would have said never when such a request was put to him, but what other option was left to him now? ‘With her life I trust you,’ he said. It was only when he spoke the words that he realised that he meant them. It was a trust born of necessity, but not a misplaced trust. Elvaethor had demonstrated that he cared, more than once. Now was the time for him to prove just how far he was willing to go.

The elf unsheathed his blade. ‘I will not fail.’ The absolute confidence in his voice was admittedly somewhat reassuring, but he and his sister were gone before Thorin could reply.  
Thorin himself found his footing again and picked up his own sword from the ground. He had been here for long enough, and he had a battle to fight and win. For now he should push the concerns about Kate from his mind and have faith that the elf would keep his promise and keep her safe. It was out of his hands. All he could do was give this fight his all.

But maybe it was already too late for that as well. That was something he realised the moment he stepped back out onto the field. The battle was turning against the allied forces. They were being driven back by hordes and hordes of orcs, whereas the fight had seemed to be going relatively well before he had been injured. Soon enough he found himself fending off orcs left, right and centre, no other thought in his mind than to stay alive, to keep breathing and to keep going, no matter what.

And then it all changed, just like that. He couldn’t even say why the furious roar turned his head when there were so many other noises. Maybe it was because it triggered a memory of another day, another battle, a century ago. But whatever it was, it made him look up, and what he saw made him go all cold on the inside, which might be counted as an achievement. He had seen so much; there was precious little that could still succeed in turning his stomach to water, ice water. This did.

The first thing he saw was Kíli, standing on a rock that would bring him almost eye level with the foe he was fighting, a giant orc standing only a few meters away from him. He held his bow, and had evidently just fired a shot; the arrow was stuck in the orc’s thigh. The roar must be the sound of pain the monster had uttered. Kíli’s triumphant expression was the rest of the proof he needed for that assumption.

But his sister-son’s victory was short-lived, and Thorin knew that. The orc knew it too. Kíli was the only one unaware, shielded from the truth by youthful overconfidence and a feeling of triumph at having successfully shot an arrow at an orc commander. But Thorin recognised the orc. Oh, it was not as if he had ever met him before in his life, but there were only so many pale and tall orcs available, and he had the knowledge of the book to rely on. All of that resulted in him making a very educated guess that he was looking at Bolg, son of Azog.

From the moment the orc had laid eyes on Kíli, the outcome had been decided. It didn’t mean that Thorin would not fight it with all his might. One of the things he had feared most was losing his sister-sons, and the fear was squeezing his heart, making it hard to breathe. And so he ran, taking down the orcs in his path as he went, hoping and praying that he would still be in time. He’d lost too many of his kin. No more, he’d sworn. No more losses, not as long as he had breath in his body and a sword in his hand.

It was a promise he ended up breaking. He fought harder than he’d ever fought before, but he was still too late. The orc descended on Kíli like a force of nature. Kíli had thrown away the bow and grabbed a sword instead, a determined expression on his face as he met the first few blows. But he was no match for the orc, and slowly the determination made way for doubt and then fear. The sword was the first thing to be knocked out of his hands. Kíli picked up something from the ground, a spear, before the next blow landed, but that too was taken from him, before he could even try to use it. And suddenly Thorin was back on the battlefield of Azanulbizar, watching as his grandfather fought a losing battle against an orc so intent on killing him that he would never rest before his goals had been achieved. Despite the fact that he was still fighting, with more desperation behind his blows with every passing second, and the sweat was trickling down his back, a cold shiver went down his spine. All of a sudden he knew exactly what would happen.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it. No matter how fast he ran, no matter how many orcs he’d slain in his quest to get to Kíli – and there had undoubtedly been a fair number, although he had not kept count – he was doomed to fail, had never really stood a chance. He’d been too far away. All he could do was scream, a wordless scream of rage and hurt that went so deep that it almost tore him apart as the orc’s blade cut through flesh and bones and then Kíli’s body fell to the ground, like a puppet of which the strings had been cut. The body, but not the head. The head was held up by its hair.

Thorin was vaguely aware of some physical reactions to the horror he now saw – nausea, chills and shaking hands, amongst others – but most of his brain was otherwise occupied. For a moment it was like he could see two realities all at once. For a moment it was not Kíli’s head he saw, and Bolg holding it out to him to taunt him, rubbing his nose in his own failure to protect one of the people he held most dear. All he could see was Azog, holding his grandfather’s head with an expression of unadulterated glee on his maimed face, throwing it down the hill with the utmost carelessness, the way someone might throw away their waste.

Like father, like son. Bolg did exactly the same thing his father had done, but at least it did the job of snapping Thorin out of the flashback that was trying to drag him back to that horrible day a hundred years previous. His heart felt like it was breaking, over and over again until all there was left was hurt and loss, bile rose in his throat and he really wanted to throw up, but he had been trained a warrior for far too long to ignore the instincts now. And in this case Kate led by example; anger was a much safer choice, and that he had in spades. Anger and rage, all pent up inside. Kíli had been his sister-son, his kin, someone he had loved and cared about. So many were already lost to him, were there none that would remain? It was unfair, so horribly unfair. And so he allowed the rage free reign, let the fury pound through his veins as he tightened his grip on his sword.

Little did that orc know that he had not broken Thorin; he had only succeeded in creating his own worst enemy.

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Heaven knows we could really do with a bit of help right now. Some eagles would be really, really nice. Even an elf or two might do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Life has been something of a chaos here.   
> Next time: Elvaethor to the rescue.  
> Please review?


	83. Unlikely Heroes

_The sight that met my eyes was not a cheerful one. There were orcs, a lot of orcs, and undoubtedly there were more on their way. And they really didn’t look as if they were dropping by for a cup of tea. Come to think of it, I think most orcs would be hard-pressed to identify tea when confronted with it; they don’t strike me as the kind of creatures to ever engage in a pastime as harmless as drinking tea and eating biscuits. They are too brutal for any of that._

_I was scared that day, more afraid than I can ever remember being, and that includes the Mirkwood inferno, which scared the hell out of me. But that day was worse, so much worse. And it is even difficult to say why it was so, because the circumstances were remarkably alike, if I may say so. In both situations there were a lot of orcs and no back-up to speak of. Of course there was Lufur, but he had to fight and had better things to do than to make sure I didn’t become orc supper. Bilbo was there as well, but well, the less said about his fighting skills, the better it is. The less said about mine, even better still._

_In short, we were hardly the kind of people one would call on to defend an entire kingdom from invaders, and yet that was what we had to do. And maybe things were only this bad because I knew I was responsible for the fate of an entire kingdom. Not that this was anything new entirely; I had represented Durin’s Folk in the negotiations as well. But this was different. Words were my forte, swords were not. But it was not as if I could talk orcs into leaving._

_It’s one of the reasons why I stay far away from fights. I don’t think I’ve ever voluntary come near a skirmish since that day, never mind a full-blown fight. Of course I have not always been able to stay away from swords, but it’s an exception more than a rule. Suffice it to say that I have never been all that good at self-defence. I wished I was, but there seems to go something wrong between my brain thinking up the movements I should be doing and my body carrying out the commands I’m giving it. That day on the mountainside I was vehemently cursing my own inability to do what needed doing, because it didn’t look like we would last more than a minute. What we needed was nothing short of a miracle…_

 

They didn’t stand a chance. They never stood a chance. That was the one thing that became very clear to Kate Andrews once they found themselves on the doorstep, Lufur in the middle and Bilbo and Kate somewhat behind him. There were too many orcs, half a dozen on the doorstep with them, and more coming up still. That would be the only explanation for why all of them moved in front of the ladder the moment they came out. They were making sure they could not cut off the entrance, literally.

‘Oh, my God.’ The words escaped her before she could even begin to stop herself. Six orcs, hardly an army worth mentioning. Except they were. They were very much worth mentioning to her. Because they were outnumbered and Lufur was the only one who could even fight. Kate very hard tried not to think about exactly why he had been singled out for the task of looking after her. It wouldn’t do to remember that he had been deemed too young and inexperienced to step foot onto the battlefield, now least of all.

_I could do with a stroke of genius right about now._

But strokes of genius were in short supply as her mind was overrun with panic. It crashed over her in waves and left her feeling both freezing and burning at the same time. The head of a seventh orc became visible as it climbed up. How many more were coming? Kate wasn’t sure she even wanted to know. All she knew was that she wanted to run. But there was nowhere left to go. Even if she ran back into Erebor as fast as her feet could carry her, the orcs would find and kill her eventually. She’d only be postponing the inevitable.

And if she did that, the armies fighting out there on the field would have an enemy at their back. Now, Kate was not a very strategic person, and she would never claim any useful knowledge of battles and the like, but even she knew full well that such a thing was bad. And she was one of the three people who stood between them and certain defeat.  
Maybe that was the kind of thing she really should have been thinking all along, because it at least did the job of snapping her out of her panic. Or rather, the panic was still there, but she could think around it, and determination was slowly starting to take its place. She was not a quitter. Here she was, sword still in hand and breathing. This fight was not lost yet, could not be lost yet. Surely she could at least try to make a stand, even if it would not be a stand that would be worth mentioning in tales and songs. Thorin was doing his part on the battlefield out there, now she had to play hers.

No words were necessary. An ultimatum to the orcs to clear the hell out of here was not going to do her any good, and Kate didn’t think she could possibly come up with one battle cry that would not sound either ridiculous or cliché, or both. It didn’t sound like the kind of thing Thorin would do either. And so she merely tightened her hold on her blade and took a deep breath before she threw herself into the fight only half a second after Lufur had set the right example. Unlike her, he had cried something in Khuzdul, but her heart was pounding so loudly that she could not make out the exact words. And what did it matter anyway?

The first orc she encountered made her rethink her initial optimism immediately. Had she been thinking that they stood a chance, that they could really fight these monsters and have a chance at success? Perhaps that would have been the case if there had been three dwarves standing guard over this Mountain, but Kate only received a very painful reminder that she was not a born and bred warrior and that she had actually no idea what on earth she was even doing.

The worst thing was that the orc opposite her knew it full well. He was toying with her, just like his kinsman had done in Mirkwood. The similarities between that day and this one were painfully obvious to the company advisor, but there was one noticeable difference; it was highly unlikely that Thorin would come to her aid this time, not when he was fighting for his own life somewhere down there. This time she was on her own. She had lost sight of Bilbo, and Lufur was trying to take on three orcs at once.

Situations like this one brought out either the best or the worst in people, and Kate would have been unable to say what it would do for her in advance. It was something of a relief – if the brief, fleeting emotion could even be called that – to find that it brought out the best in her. Tempted though she was to run and hide, she was sensible enough to know that would not do her any favours. And so her world shrunk. There were only two things that mattered now: keep the orcs away from the door and cut the ropes that secured the ladder.

The strangest thing was, she reflected after a rare successful blow that bought her a few seconds to catch her breath, that staying alive somehow seemed to come third only on her list of priorities. How that had happened she was not entirely sure, but it may just have something to do with the realisation she had earlier that she was on her own, and that her life was forfeited whichever way she sliced it. The only thing that was truly strange about it was how she had seemingly accepted her imminent demise without having a panic attack all over again. Emotions like that had just disappeared, leaving only a focus for the task at hand.

The orc said something in that language she did not understand. Thorin would have understood the words, but it sounded as gibberish to Kate’s ears. It didn’t sound complimentary, though.

‘You’re quite ugly too,’ she retorted, unable to stop the insult from crossing her lips. No idea where that came from – she seemed to have some elementary troubles understanding herself and her actions, something she might find alarming in any other circumstance – but it was a piece of her, of the old Kate, and so she welcomed it with open arms. Was she ever really defeated as long as she had words at her disposal? It was the kind of fighting she was best at after all.

Kate couldn’t understand a word of the orcs’ foul language, but he sure as hell understood hers if that vicious growling and glaring was anything to go by. She’d made him angry, but angry was good. That was something Dwalin had once told her, in what now felt like a lifetime ago. It had been a warm and sunny day, while the company was staying at Beorn’s and life was mostly good and even more or less peaceful. When your opponent was angry, they were more likely to make mistakes, Dwalin had told her. Anger blinded people, made them reckless, and recklessness in turn led to mistakes. She could do with a mistake on his part right about now.

‘Of course, none of your kind are particularly attractive,’ she conceded. ‘But even then…’

She wasn’t given the opportunity to end that sentence before a blade was swung at her head and she had to duck out of its way. The fighting began in earnest now. Before she had started to insult him, he had been toying with her, but that was over and done with. This was the kind of fight that could be labelled as a fight to the death, and Kate had a lingering suspicion that it might be her death they were headed toward, not the most cheerful of prospects to be sure. This had been a mistake, a very big mistake. The orc was angry all right, but he didn’t get reckless. Well, Kate supposed that he was being reckless, but she had no way to turn that to her advantage, not when she was struggling to fend off the blows he directed at her. She didn’t even have time to breathe, didn’t have time to think, and at long last instinct took over, guiding her sword there where it needed to be to take the blows instead of her own body. Not that her instinct was doing such a good job of protecting her, but it was better than nothing at all.

How long it lasted, she could never be able to say. All she knew was that she suddenly felt a searing pain across the length of her thigh and she fell. There was a patch of grass that somewhat broke her fall, but if she lived long enough for the sun to set, then there would still be some very nasty bruises to show for it. How she had the presence of mind to hold on to Excalibur, Kate didn’t know, but it was still in her hand when she came back to her senses, only to realise that she should have been dead by now.

Her body was aching all over, and her left leg felt like it was on fire, but her mind was still working fine. She was running on adrenaline still. Nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to establish that at least for a few seconds she must have been completely vulnerable, and only a fool would not have used the opportunity. They toying was over after all. Some experience with orcs had taught Kate Andrews that she should never ever underestimate the intelligence of orcs. They were smart, and cunning too. They didn’t use their intelligence in the way the other races did, but that did not make them stupid. They weren’t all brawl and no brains. It was a common mistake, but a mistake all the same. Just because they were physically strong did not mean they weren’t clever as well. Underestimating them, especially in war, would be the same thing as signing one’s own death certificate.

So, by all rights she should be as dead as a doornail. No orc could have possibly hesitated in killing a defenceless opponent, especially since aforementioned opponent had not made a secret of her dearest wish to have him six inches underground at the earliest opportunity. She really should have been dead, but here she was, quite alive.

The reason for that became obvious though when she saw the orc had turned his back on her and was now fighting against someone with red hair, someone who looked remarkably like Elvaethor’s sister. Now it was almost for certain that she had hit her head, because there was no earthly reason why Tauriel of all people would be here. How would she even know that there was a need to come to the side door? More to the point, how was she even aware of the location of the side door?

 _Priorities, Andrews_. Common sense chose a good time to make a reappearance for a change. This was really not the time to wonder about this. There were still far too many orcs on this doorstep, making the small space feel rather crowded. _On your feet. Keep going. Now’s not the time to be lazing about._

That was the strange thing about battles. Kate was having difficulty recognising herself as the woman who did as her common sense told her to do, who got up and measured her opponent’s back to see where his weak spots were. She had never been the kind of person to stand up and fight, never mind attack someone from behind. That was not her, not who she was.

She became that person now. Her heart was pumping, her thigh was burning, but determination and fear had taken away most of her reservations about killing someone in cold blood. This fight, it transformed her into someone she didn’t quite know, someone who put the job before everything else. _War makes monsters of ordinary people. It makes them do things they would never do otherwise._ Suddenly Kate wasn’t all that sure anymore that this was bringing out the best in her. No, she wasn’t running, she had not suddenly become a coward. Maybe she had become something even far worse. She didn’t want to know what this said about her.

Her hands were shaking, but the orc was still there and there was not a moment to lose, and so Kate gave herself a mental kick in the behind and told herself to bloody well get on with it and save the moral reflections for later, when all was said and done. Her hands raised the sword almost of their own volition, instinct and self-preservation taking over once again. Without giving it any more thought – and quite frankly, she had spent too long thinking and too little doing already – and stabbed the orc in his back. It wasn’t the most gracious of moves in the history of Middle Earth, but the blade cut through leather, skin and flesh all the same. It was nothing like the smooth moves one would see in movies, but no less effective for it. The orc uttered a sound that was something between a scream and a growl and in the end really mostly sounded like a dog throwing up. Then he fell, almost dragging Kate down with him. Her sword had got stuck, and she was not planning on letting go of it before all of this was over. It was her only weapon and so she pulled and the blade was free. Kate exhaled in relief.

Only when she had the weapon in her hand again and she found herself face to face with a flabbergasted – there really was no other word for it – elf woman, did it truly dawn on her what she had just done. War or not, she had just killed a sentient being. Not only that, she had for all intents and purposes committed murder. Was there really any other word for the deed she had done? After all, she had stabbed him from behind, something he could never have seen coming. This was not what she had been taught about honourable battle. But on the other hand, if our roles had been reversed, would he have shown me mercy? Kate didn’t think so.

‘What are you doing here?’ Tauriel snapped at her, practically staring at her in disbelief.

‘Thank you for coming to our aid,’ Kate said, immediately correcting her assessment of Tauriel’s intelligence if she really wanted an answer to such a stupid question. To Kate it was rather obvious why she was here. The same reason Tauriel was, she assumed.

‘But in your condition!’ the elf objected.

Kate had neither the time nor the wish to argue about that. Her leg was hurting true enough, but she could handle it. The blood loss would slow her down before long, she expected, but at the moment the adrenaline still ruled supreme. As long as that was in her system, she would be perfectly all right, provided an orc didn’t end her life sometime in the next few minutes. She had her wall against the rock wall now, and a short moment to see how things were. Elvaethor and Lufur were both fighting dangerously close to the edge, fending off the orcs that were still climbing up. Between the two of them they seemed to be more than capable to keep any attacker from getting past them to the women, which was the very reason why they had a little time to catch their breaths, at least for the moment. The most alarming development was that Bilbo seemed to have gone missing. This place was not that big that someone could get out of sight. Even though the hobbit was small, they should be able to see him.

‘Where’s the hobbit?’ she demanded. ‘Have you seen a hobbit?’

The blank look the elf bestowed on her was all the answer she needed. Well, Kate supposed Tauriel could not possibly know about Bilbo. He’d stayed out of sight of all elves during their time of captivity, and had not shown his face at the meeting either. Come to think of it, Kate wasn’t even certain Elvaethor’s sister even knew what a hobbit was. It wasn’t as if they travelled in the direction of Thranduil’s realm on a regular basis. Why would they? Hobbits weren’t travellers after all. And apparently Elvaethor hadn’t been spilling any beans either.

‘Damn it.’ Kate wasn’t usually so foul-mouthed, but this was a special occasion and she really hoped Bilbo was okay. Never mind about her personal loss if he died – she had grown rather fond of him – but she didn’t even want to begin to contemplate the consequences for future events should he breathe his last today. He may very well have done that already. If he wasn’t here, it must mean he had fallen off the ledge. No one could survive such a fall.

‘What do you mean?’ Tauriel asked.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Kate said. It probably didn’t matter to this elf anyway. Oh, Kate liked her, certainly, but she had no patience whatsoever with anyone asking stupid questions at the moment. She’d apologise later, provided there was a later to begin with.

She could see the current captain of the Mirkwood guards was dying to ask more questions, but they were both distracted before it could get to that. There were screams, orcish screams, which made Kate swivel around to see what was happening. She was only just in time to see how one of the last orcs to make it to the top of the ladder lost his footing and fell to his death, because one of the ropes holding Elvaethor’s makeshift ladder in place had broken. Well, that was a stroke of luck. Apparently all the pulling and all the weight on it had finally been enough to make the rope snap. They may not be able to deal with this themselves, but it would seem that they had not run out of luck altogether.

But it wasn’t luck. It took Kate another second to realise just that, because that was the moment when the other string snapped. There was no one there to do it, but even Kate, not remotely counting as an expert on these matters, could see that this was not something that happened to a normal rope when its strength ran out and it just snapped because it couldn’t carry the weight of the people depending on it anymore. This was a clean cut. Someone had used some kind of sword or knife to cut the last rope holding the ladder in place. And now it was falling. Kate could hear the screams of the orcs as they fell down to their deaths. They may be harder to kill than hobbits, but even they could not survive that. But even if they did, they would be in no state to take the longer route and climb back up again.

Elvaethor pushed one orc over the edge, while Lufur dealt with the final foe by cutting open his belly to show the owner what was in them. Kate immediately glanced away. With her own actions still very fresh in her memory, she had no wish to see any more injury and death. Her stomach was rather protesting against the whole thing too. She didn’t think she was in immediate danger of throwing up – she had come far since that horrible fight in Goblin-town – but it still made her feel nauseous. Maybe that was something of a good thing as well, because it meant that deep down she considered all this bloodshed as something that wasn’t meant to be. A necessary evil, that was what it was. She wouldn’t condemn anyone for fighting these beasts – how could she when they threatened people she cared about? – but killing them still felt wrong somehow. Contradictory feelings they were, and really not helpful under the given circumstances.

She’d better focus on something she didn’t understand, something that wouldn’t force her to think about death and the ones who dealt in it, especially since she now fell in that category. The mystery of the rope, because someone had to have cut it, even though they had not been visible.

It was only then that the penny dropped, and Kate cursed herself for a fool for not thinking of this earlier. _Forget sword of knife. How about a letter opener?_

She might as well have spoken aloud, because Bilbo appeared the next second. His hair looked like a hurricane had its merry way with it and his clothing looked distinctly dishevelled as well, never mind his face. It suggested that he had been crawling through the dirt, which was probably exactly what he had done in order to get to the rope.

‘Hero of the hour,’ she announced. It would be stupid to deny him his moment of fame. He deserved it.

‘Who’s he?’ Tauriel demanded. She would do that, having never seen the hobbit before, and both Thorin and Kate had taken great care never to mention him. And although he had been seen walking around Lake-town, no one had paid him much mind, just assuming that he belonged with the company, but was not of any particular importance. And how wrong they all were. They would be dead at least thrice over if it weren’t for the courage of one little hobbit from the Shire. He’d saved Thorin’s life in the Misty Mountains, had started the Mirkwood inferno, had rescued all of them from Thranduil’s dungeons, had distracted Smaug long enough for Thorin and Kíli to kill him and had now saved Erebor from orc invasion. No, Bilbo was more than just the hero of the hour. Hero of the quest was more like it.

‘Bilbo Baggins,’ she introduced him. ‘Burglar extraordinaire.’ She didn’t know why she said that with a certain measure of pride, but she did. After all, he was part of the company.  
Kate intended to thoroughly enjoy the look of bewilderment that graced the face of the captain of the guard – her predecessor looked not at all surprised, but then, he had been spying on the company for ages – but it seemed that the sudden lack of adrenaline in her system, caused by sudden absence of fighting for one’s life, allowed for the pain in her thigh to become rather overwhelming all of a sudden. She found herself sucking in a breath when the pain really began to register. ‘Oh, shit.’ She really meant not to make a fool of herself right here, but her last thought before she passed out was that perhaps that intention was not really going to work for her.

***

His hands felt sweaty. It was one of those strange, irrelevant observations that made itself known to Thorin in a moment when he had no use whatsoever for it. Sweaty hands would mean that he was nervous, but he wasn’t. No, he wasn’t nervous in the slightest. The only thing he could feel right now was anger. No, anger was not the right word for the thing he felt. Fury would be a more accurate word by far, but even that would not suffice to truly describe the emotion he felt. Because it was not just righteous rage. It was fury fuelled by pain and loss and a hurt that went to the bone.

No, it was not just rage. It was hatred, strong and burning, guiding his every action. He had felt it before, knew it was a dangerous thing to surrender to it so completely, especially on a battlefield, because it often led to recklessness. And recklessness was nothing less than a shortcut to injury and death. He ought to have learned his lesson in that department after Azanulbizar. He had come very close to being killed then, too close for comfort. But he hadn’t listened to reason then, and he didn’t plan on listening to reason now, not when the loss of Kíli was still so fresh in his memory, not when the comparison with Azanulbizar was far too obvious to miss.

The memories were overwhelming. Or rather, they would have been overwhelming had he been in any other situation than the one he was in now. Because he did not only recall Azanulbizar with perfect clarity, there was also the memory of the Mirkwood inferno making itself known. Azog’s taunting, the fear that both his sister-sons had been killed and he had been powerless to stop it.

But he was not. He wasn’t powerless. He had a sword in his hand and all the motivation in the world to stand up and fight so that at least Fíli might live. He hadn’t exactly seen him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. And it was a key to keeping his sanity if he believed that at least one of his nephews was still alive and breathing.

‘ _You will die, Oakenshield_.’ The words were spoken in that foul tongue all the orcs used, the language Thorin had heard so many times on the battlefield, the language that he, unlike a certain elf he could mention, had not learned out of a book. He had learned it because he had fought, fought and lived. And he didn’t intend to die now.

The fact that he could even make out what was being said alerted him to the fact that he had come rather close. There was something mildly alarming about the idea that his legs had carried him here without his permission, but on the other hand, there was no place where he would rather be now. There was after all only one thing that must be done here today, because in the moment that he had seen Kíli’s body collapse and his head thrown to the ground, all the other things happening here today had ceased to matter. Now he was only here to rid the earth of that orc’s filth.

‘ _Your father died at my hands_ ,’ Thorin retorted. ‘ _And his father lost his life at the hands of my grandfather. What makes you think you stand a chance to live?_ ’ Taunting was safe, as long as he was not the recipient. He had angered Azog into an attack. His son – at least he believed it was the son; it still wasn’t more than a guess, albeit a rather educated guess – might not be all that different.

‘ _And your grandfather perished by my father’s hand_ ,’ Bolg returned. At least he had done Thorin the service of confirming his identity. ‘ _And your sister-son perished at mine. What chance do you think you have?_ ’

The words hurt. It wasn’t as if he needed the reminder of what he had lost already rubbed in. Those wounds had not even begun to close, ripped wide open by new loss. Sometimes he wondered if it would ever end. Or maybe this feud would rage on until both families had been dead and buried. Thorin remembered the book. If that got its way – something Thorin really had no intention of letting come to pass – then both his kin, the last male descendants of Thrór, and Azog’s would die here today, effectively ending the bloody feud that had lasted for well over a century.

‘Whichever way, this will end today.’

He had not exactly meant to speak these words aloud, but he meant them. The feud had only brought them here, and more lives were lost than could be justified. At the heart of the matter this may only be about a blood feud, but so many more lives had been lost in the process. It had to end somewhere. And while Thorin personally could not care less about how many orcs had died – in fact, the more, the better – his people had been suffering so many losses. And that had to stop before the losses could start to threaten them with extinction.

And that idea was not all that far-fetched. With women making up such a small percentage of the population, and quite a lot of them choosing never to marry at all, reproduction could get very easily be a rather big problems. In times of peace and stability there was nothing to worry about, but this was not a time of peace and stability. His people had known war and exile for so long that they hardly knew any different. Fíli and Kíli belonged to a generation that didn’t even remember Erebor anymore.

With that his thoughts went back to Kíli and the fact that he was no longer here because of the orc Thorin was about to face. If he had need of any more motivation, he had just got it. He didn’t think he could actually have tightened the grip on his sword even more than he already had, but it happened all the same.

All his senses screamed at him to launch himself into an attack, but some last remnants of common sense reminded him how foolish that would be. At Azanulbizar that was what he had done, and the result had been that he had ended up on the ground, without a sword and without a proper shield. All he’d had was that oaken branch, and that was only because it had been lying around on the ground, a stroke of luck in that otherwise disastrous battle. That was where his recklessness had gotten him, and he was not about to subject himself to a repeat performance with a quite possibly lethal outcome this time; he didn’t see any oaken branches lying around here.

No, better go about this the way he had baited and killed Azog. If he could get Bolg to make that first move, if he could anger him into a reckless assault, then he would have the upper hand, but if he wanted for that to happen, he needed to be less emotional than he was now.

 _Revenge is a dish best eaten cold_ , Kate had once remarked as she sat beside a campfire, positively smirking as Nori did a frantic search of the camp looking for some prized possession Kate had, Thorin knew, hidden at the bottom of Nori’s own pack. It was revenge for him stealing something of hers back in Rivendell, but she had waited until Beorn’s to get her own back, by which time Nori didn’t even suspect her of the crime anymore. And of course they had all gotten a good laugh when after a few hours of unfounded accusations and headless chicken behaviour the missing item had turned out to be in Nori’s own luggage, just not in the exact place where he had last left it, and where he consequently hadn’t looked at all.

It was a completely inappropriate memory to recall in the middle of a battle, and totally irrelevant for the thing Thorin had to do, but the phrase had rung true and therefore it had stuck. He needed to keep calm and not race into this like a headless chicken, but by the Maker, it was hard when his hands were itching to run Bolg through and just have his revenge, no matter what he should and shouldn’t do.

‘ _You think you can save him, the other one?_ ’ Bolg’s tone of voice more than suggested that he would fail to do just that. And he didn’t even need to mention Fíli’s name. They both knew who he meant. ‘ _After you failed to save the first?_ ’

The words made it feel like he had somehow swallowed down poison that was burning him from the inside out, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to break through the pain, so that he could do what needed to be done. Nothing was gained by him giving in to his emotions, and he could lose everything that mattered if he did.

‘ _As I recall, you were not even there to try and save your father when he fell._ ’ He needed to, as Kate called it, turn the tables on him. But words were hardly his forte. Usually he didn’t mind that; the company advisor talked more than enough for the both of them. But now he found himself wishing for her quick tongue, and the way the words bended themselves to suit her needs like it took no effort at all. It didn’t help matters along that this was not his own language he was using. He could understand it perfectly, but the speaking part was much harder. Bolg had the advantage in that department. And he really was nowhere near calm enough to stop and think about what he was saying, not when all he wanted to do was to plunge his blade into Bolg’s flesh and end him. ‘ _Did you know how he died?_ ’

It wasn’t the best way of doing this. Mahal knew it wasn’t even original. But did that really matter? Did it matter in what way he persuaded that orc to take the bait and attack as long as it actually worked? He didn’t care about original. It was well-known that when a method worked, it couldn’t hurt to use it twice. And Thorin wanted to lash out and hurt, even though he wasn’t generally in the habit of lying. He clearly remembered loathing the need for it to trick Nói only… Was that really only yesterday? It felt like so much longer.

But now he didn’t care. Now he only wanted to deal out the pain, in words if he couldn’t yet use a weapon to achieve his goals. And it was working too, because Bolg’s face twisted in anger, maybe even hatred, and although it was hard to make sure over all the noise of the battle around them, Thorin could have sworn that he growled. He was on the right path.

And so he continued. ‘ _I ran him through and left him to die, left him to die in agony as the flames burned him to death. I watched. He couldn’t run, and I watched as he burned to ashes. I heard him beg for mercy and I didn’t give it to him_.’

That was not how it had gone, but it was how it could have gone. The idea was so very plausible, and Bolg must know that too. And he believed it. That was what it looked like anyway. It could be that he still had doubts, but Thorin had at least succeeded in planting the idea that it could have happened in his head. And an idea could be an incredibly powerful thing, he knew from bitter experience.

Still, Bolg didn’t move. He only stood there, weapon in hand, but not moving. It was almost as if he was waiting for something or someone, although Thorin couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for. The rage was obvious; Bolg was angry, almost as angry and desperate to lash out as Thorin himself was, but he kept a very tight leash on his emotions and his actions by the look of it. It would seem that the son did not take after the father in every aspect. Azog had been more driven by emotions, had been impulsive, a force of nature. Now, no one would deny that Bolg was not strong and orcish, like Azog had been, but he had obviously a lot more self-control, more the mind of a battle commander than a soldier. This was a foe he should not ever underestimate.

He had only just finished that thought when a burning pain shot up his right leg and he fell to the ground, unable to stand any longer. That was already the one that had suffered the worst under the crushing weight of a dead dragon, and he was not entirely sure that it had even fully recovered yet. As of now, it was as bad as it had ever been, and he could not remain standing on it for even a second longer, no matter how much he tried. The leg simply refused to bear his weight.

As he sank down on one knee, the realisation that he had been attacked from behind was starting to dawn on him. And Bolg must have known this. _That_ was why he had been waiting, why he had remained absolutely still even in the face of Thorin’s taunts. He’d had a plan, a rather good plan, too. While Thorin had been too preoccupied trying to anger Bolg into making that first move, blinded by grief and hatred after Kíli’s death, Bolg had sent someone to sneak behind him, but he hadn’t been killed. He had only been crippled, brought down on his knees.

The truth of this, the rather terrifying truth, was that this was clearly not a fight. This was an execution. Thorin wasn’t stupid; he understood perfectly what message Bolg was sending him. _I’m executing you like I would a criminal. You will not have the honour of dying in battle._

But he wasn’t defeated yet. He had something to live for yet, and even though he had seemingly lost the control over his leg, he had lost none of his wits and none of his battle instincts. And so he lashed out, turning around and slashing his blade through leather, skin and flesh. The orc that had been standing behind him like an executioner – although Thorin doubted he would be the one to do the killing; Bolg would likely want to have that “honour” for himself – fell to the ground before he could even begin to defend himself. If he had not been anticipating Thorin to fight back, then he had indeed been a fool. He had been fighting all his life; he was hardly going to stop now. _As long as there is breath in my body and a sword in my hand_. And he still had his revenge to take, and his people still needed him to bring them home. His life was not done yet.

It was strange, he would later reflect, that he had seldom felt so alive as he did then. It did not make any kind of sense to him at all. For all intents and purposes he was severely injured, unable to put up a proper fight, or at least not for long. Yet here he was, clinging to life with every fibre of his being. Maybe it was only because he truly realised what he had left to live for when things looked most bleak.

Maybe that was why he found some last remnants of strength to get to his feet, using Orcrist as a makeshift walking stick for the time being, until it was required as a weapon again. Even if he was to die here today, he would not die on his knees, like someone who had given himself up and had accepted defeat. Bolg had tried to take away his chance to die with honour, so Thorin would make sure that, if his death was indeed inevitable, he would at least take that particular victory away from his enemy. If he was to die, he would do it on his own terms, and he would take Bolg with him if only he could.

‘ _Your sword will be of no help to you_ ,’ the orc commented, strolling over to where Thorin was struggling to maintain his balance. His leg hurt like it had when the dragon had fallen on it, but he could hold out for a while longer. What was truly vexing him was that the orc was walking there as if he had every right to be here, as if this was not a battlefield and there was no one fighting and no one dying.

 _Pride comes before the fall_. It was a saying his mother had always had a particular fondness of, and for some reason it sprang to mind then. And it was rather strange, because the thought was followed by a grunt of pain and then it was Bolg on his knees, Bolg brought down by something as small and meaningless as a small pebble. But aforementioned pebble had hit him right in the eye, and when Thorin turned around – well, the more accurate description would be that he looked over his shoulder in order to see his saviour – he could see Ori standing there, looking equal parts pleased with himself and horrified at what he had done.

 _Get out of here! You should not even be here!_ Ori was too young, too inexperienced, and he was fighting by launching small stones at his enemies of all things to do, although it must be said he launched them with deathly precision. There was a sword hanging from his hip, but it was still sheathed and it didn’t look like it had been used at all. And yet, here was Ori, clearly shaking in his boots with fear, but with only minor scratches, having just brought down one of the most fearsome orcs Thorin ever had the misfortune to encounter with nothing more than a well-aimed pebble. There was more to the young scribe than met the eye, but that didn’t change the fact that he really ought to get out of here before he could get hurt. Bolg was injured, but not dead, and when he got to his feet again – because he would; orcs were notoriously difficult when it came to things like accepting defeat – Ori would be his first target, because he’d had the nerve to attack him. And that was the kind of fight Thorin himself was not even sure he could win, never mind that Ori could win.

‘Get out,’ he snapped at Kate’s brother.

Something of Kate’s complete lack of actually listening to something he said, especially when it was a direct order, must have contaminated Ori, because instead of running away from the scene as fast as his legs could carry him, he came closer and reached out to be the alternative for the walking stick Thorin was currently using. The only similarity between the sword and the scribe was that neither had ever been intended to be used for that purpose.

‘ _Go!_ ’ he said forcefully. He would have underlined that with an equally forceful shove in the right direction if he had not been so certain that he would fall should he attempt such a thing. As it was, it already took most of his strength just to remain upright. Ori’s support was not just welcome, it was needed. And how he hated that. He wasn’t used to being weak, always having been the strong one, and lately it seemed like he was constantly dependent upon others to keep going. It wasn’t as it should be. He was the one to protect, not the one in need of protection.

‘Can’t.’ Ori was panting, but his _can’t_ sounded remarkably like _won’t_ , like stubbornness that Thorin knew the source of only too well. Reckless stubbornness, that was what it was. Clearly they didn’t even have to be related by blood in order for them to have the same characteristic traits. ‘I need to get you back to Erebor.’

Thorin forewent stating the obvious – namely that the gate had been bolted shut behind them when they left and therefore there was no way in now – in favour of trying to make Ori see sense and run. Maybe he should have known in advance that was not going to work, but at least he would have tried, and that had to count for something. If Kate and Dori were going to give him a lecture for bringing their brother into danger, he could at least say in his defence that he had tried. Ori would likely try to interject by saying that yes, it had been his own doing and Dori shouldn’t worry all that much. At least, Thorin imagined that was what would happen if they lived long enough to see the end of this battle.

And that was highly unlikely. Without really meaning to he had let Ori turn him around, back to Erebor, but a growl of anger made him turn back again, turning his helper back with him, only to come face to face yet again with Azog’s son. His left eye appeared to be gone. There was only a bloody hole where the eye had been, and the blood itself was steadily trickling down his face. But Bolg did not seem to be hindered by it. He was still every bit as dangerous as he had always been, and Thorin knew that only too well.

‘Back!’ he yelled, hoping that at least for a while they could stay out of reach of Bolg’s blade, until he had thought of a better way to get out of this alive and preferably with all their limbs still in their proper places. It was something of a bother that Ori had taken his right arm, his sword arm, so that he for all intents and purposes was now defenceless, effectively ensuring that he himself could do nothing to defend them. Bolg would use that.

But if there was one advantage that Ori had created, then it was that depth perception became rather muddled when one had only one eye available. But depth perception may be muddled, fact remained that he still had a sword, and Thorin didn’t have a shield.

Except that he had. Bolg lashed out with his blade, but it would have missed Thorin by at least a few inches anyway. But that was something Ori clearly didn’t know. He only pushed Thorin out of the way and instinctively raised his right arm to fend off the blow. And that was a mistake.

The next moment Thorin found his leg failing him yet again and he fell, dragging Ori down with him. It was only when he looked at the lad that he realised that he had lost consciousness, that his right hand seemed to have vanished and that the wrist to which that hand had been attached was nothing more than a bloody stump.

As he looked up, he could see Bolg, triumph written all over his face, as eagles soared overhead.

 

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _How strange that one of the only things I can think of when I am about to be killed by an orc is how much more painful Dori would make my passing if he were here to learn what had happened to his little brother._


	84. Deus Ex Machina

_Let me tell you, my dear ones, that there are very few things that had frightened me more than waking up in a very dark place while my body ached as if it had been trampled on by a dozen elephants. I think that sums my position upon waking up to perfection. Let me tell you, it was far from pleasant._

_Bilbo later told me that after I had lost consciousness, apparently because of the blood loss, Elvaethor had lifted me up and had swept me back into the Mountain, bridal style. If there is one thing that I am grateful for, then it was that I was not actually awake to see that. Let’s face it, it would have been more than just a little embarrassing. And that’s probably why no one ever saw it fit to tell your father anything about it; he might not have reacted as reasonable as usual. Of course there is no denying any of it now anymore, but at least several decades have passed, and as far as I am aware, Elvaethor himself is currently busying himself with some thing or other in Rivendell for the next couple of months, so no trouble there._

_Trouble was something that we, at that time, had no shortage of. Tauriel saw to my wounds while she tried to bring me back to the waking world simultaneously, which worked. Not that I particularly liked the waking world overly much at that time, though. Like I said, I was disorientated and I woke in almost complete darkness, which very nearly led to a panic attack. It was only narrowly avoided when Bilbo told me that the orcs had gone – at least for the time being – and we were safely back inside Erebor, while Lufur and Elvaethor, who had come to a temporary and reluctant truce, closed the door, to make sure that we would not be bothered by any more uninvited guests. We all agreed that we’d had far too many of those already._

_Which presented us with another problem. While Tauriel stitched up the wound in my leg – the darkness didn’t hinder her in her actions, so I assume that there must be some benefits to being an elf with super developed senses – the one I was trying my hardest not to look at because I got awfully queasy when I did, we discussed what to do about the door, because it had escaped no one’s notice that we didn’t have the key to lock it again. True, when closed it was probably not even visible, but it felt wrong to leave the door when there was no telling if the orcs would not be back. They roughly knew the location and who was to say they would not throw themselves against every piece of rock they could find in order to open the side door all over again? And without a key, we had no way of locking up._

_Did I by any chance ever tell you that from time to time, I really have very ridiculous ideas? Did I also tell you that every once in a very long while, one of these plans actually works? Tauriel was still working on my leg, aided only by the light on the one lone torch we had been able to get to work. I don’t quite remember how it happened, but Lufur moved and suddenly the light fell on one of her hairpins._

_It’s an old technique, I don’t even know how old, but it was something I’d heard of when I was very young. Initially I didn’t believe that it was even possible to lock and unlock doors with only a hairpin – if that was so, then why did people even bother with keys? – until Jacko and I put the theory to the test by unlocking one of the cupboards with one of my mother’s pins, stealing a handful of sweets and then locking up again behind us. Our mother never quite found out how we managed it, because of course she realised that somehow we must behind the theft. But we didn’t have any keys after all, so she never pieced it together, and of course we always denied it. And I suppose I am only just telling you this because by now you have outgrown the stage in which you’d do anything to get your hands on sweets anyway._

_So, there you go. I asked Tauriel for a hairpin and it all went from there…_

 

Thorin didn’t need to be an expert on battles to know that he had gotten himself into quite a predicament. He was torn between making sure that Ori didn’t bleed to death and making sure that he got out of here as soon as possible. Common sense told him that he would be no good to the lad if he himself got killed, something that might just happen if he sat around here for any longer. He’d been lucky as it was.

On the other hand it went against the grain to leave someone behind to die for him. That was not the kind of person he was, and he never had been. And he had already failed Kíli today, someone who had been looking to him for guidance. Kíli may not even have known that he did it, but it was the truth all the same. He had been the uncle who always knew what to do in a crisis, and Thorin had led him on in that belief, even when he was at his wit’s end and he only pretended to know what he was doing.

And now Kíli was dead and Thorin had not been able to save his life. That knowledge hurt more than that wound in his leg, a feeling as if a knife had been stabbed into his heart and was twisted there, over and over again, distracting him from the things he ought to be doing. And he could very ill afford a distraction now.

Because Bolg was still there, visually impaired, but not defeated by any stretch of the imagination. They had managed to dodge a blow, but Thorin made himself no illusions that he was safe now. He wasn’t, and neither was Ori. And Thorin may have shown his hand by reacting to the lad the way he had. Even a fool could have told that he cared for this young dwarf. Today, and in the present company, that put him right in harm’s way.

 _No more. Not one other_. The thought sprang up and momentarily made him forget his current physical restrictions. No one else was going to die for him here today. No one else was going to be killed just to get to him. That was not the kind of dwarf he was. And this was Kate’s brother. How could he ever look her in the eye again if he perished here today while it was in Thorin’s power to prevent it?

‘ _Your quarrel is not with him_ ,’ he said, looking up at his foe. He hated that; being smaller than his enemies. They looked down on him in the figurative sense already, and so he was loath to give them any excuse to do it in the literal sense as well. ‘ _Leave him be_.’

‘ _My quarrel is with all your race_ ,’ Bolg spat.

 _Your quarrel is with everyone that isn’t an orc_ , Thorin thought venomously. _And even then I’ve heard that your people frequently make a habit of killing one another._ Kin-slaying wasn’t as despised a crime to orcs as it was to the other peoples of Middle Earth. In fact, it was something they did quite often and it only served to make Thorin despise them even more.

‘Leave him be.’ He hoped to Mahal it didn’t sound as feeble to the orc as it did to his own ears. Judging by the look on his enemy’s face, he had no such luck.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Bolg, even as Ori was still bleeding out. If he waited much longer, it might be too late, but if he even for a moment let himself be distracted, Bolg would use it, and Thorin would never be able to see the attack coming. He could not afford that either. What good would he be to either of them dead? Staying alive had to be a priority. And Bolg had already demonstrated that he had no intention of granting Thorin an honourable death. He wanted him to be killed like a coward would be killed, like a criminal would be executed.

They were at an impasse. Thorin didn’t know why the orc had not done anything yet, although he assumed there was reason behind his conduct. He was toying with them, making them sweat in fear of the inevitable. It wasn’t as if he could go anywhere. Thorin doubted he could walk at all, but even if he could, there was Ori to consider, and he would not leave him behind. Even then, Bolg would never even let him rise to his feet. He would want Thorin on his knees when he finished him.

But death did not frighten him, not his own. He had known from the beginning that it was an option, and he had stared death in the face for more times than he cared to count. He would not start fearing it now. But he was not just responsible for his own life now. Ori may have held himself responsible for Thorin’s, but the roles had been reversed since then. He was the one responsible now. He was also in no position to do that.

And all of a sudden the impasse ended with a deafening roar. Thorin instinctively ducked down lower, groaning as a burning pain shot up his leg, throwing himself over Ori’s body to shield him. The younger dwarf didn’t even stir, which was decidedly not a good sign. _Please, lad, hold on for a little longer_. Thorin could still feel a heartbeat, but it was not as strong and steady as it was supposed to be, not by a long way.

The next moment a shadow soared overhead. Thorin vaguely remembered seeing eagles in the sky, the same eagles that had rescued his company from wargs and orcs alike on the slopes of the Misty Mountains if he was not very much mistaken, but eagles generally didn’t roar, not the way this creature did. That was usually the prerogative of the wargs the orcs were so fond of, although this did not really sound like one of those disgusting creatures either. Even so, it was the best explanation for the current events, and he for one wouldn’t put it past Bolg to have a warg sneak up to them to finish him off while he wasn’t looking.

And then the shadow was gone, and Thorin got up. Lying on the ground with no visual information to go on at all, that was akin to suicide. And although he didn’t fear death, it didn’t mean he’d welcome it. He still had a life to live, and there were people he had to look after. He was nowhere near ready to die yet.

Bolg was gone. That was the first thing he noticed when he raised his head to see what was happening. Well, he was not exactly gone. Thorin could see him, a small distance away, but he was no longer standing. The creature that had jumped over Thorin’s head was standing over him, tearing at armour and flesh alike. Whatever it was, and it was hard to see while it had its back turned to Thorin, it was doing a rather fine job of tearing Bolg limb from limb, and one could – should – take that quite literally. There was not even any doubt in his mind that his enemy was gone. No living being could survive that treatment.

But that didn’t mean he was safe yet. There was still a battle ongoing, and although he wasn’t in the middle of it anymore, he was not out of the danger zone. The orcs were almost all gone in this section. The fighting had moved on, but had left Thorin, Ori, Bolg and his cronies behind. The latter could still be here for all Thorin knew. They would have been under orders not to touch the dwarves, but that was while their leader was still alive. Now that he was gone, it would be up to them to finish the job. And that was not even considering the fact that there was no telling whether this big black beast would limit its supper to orcs only. It didn’t give off a very friendly impression thus far.

One look over his shoulder however taught him that he wouldn’t need to worry about orcs though. There weren’t any there anymore. There had been, but they were no longer alive. Their corpses were strewn across the battlefield as if someone had picked them up and carelessly had thrown them down again, ending their lives somewhere along the way. Well, he said corpses, but some of them were barely recognisable as such any more. This beast had torn through them like a starving wolf among the sheep. He sincerely doubted the orcs had stood any more chance than the sheep he had just compared them with.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to try and stand, taking Ori with him. He couldn’t quite muffle the groan of pain that escaped his lips as he did that, but now was not the time to give in to injury. He needed to get them out of here, before that beast finished its meal and started looking for dessert. Ori was still bleeding and still unconscious, and that forced Thorin to at least make some makeshift bandage to stop the worst of it. But the strip of cloth he’d torn from his own tunic was already stained with blood before he finished wrapping the wound. He was no physician; he had no idea what to do. Óin would know, but he was not here.

And he had wasted enough time as it was. He could stay here to try and stop the bleeding, but that would mean risking both their lives to the brutal beast, and besides, he knew for certain that there was nothing he could do to really make a difference. He needed a healer for that. So, getting out of this place it was. Ori was still not responding, so that meant he’d have to carry him. But Thorin knew his own position well enough to know that in his current state he would never make it back to Erebor before he himself collapsed.

But then, what else was there to be done?

He lifted Ori up. The lad was a scrawny thing by dwarven standards, and normally he would have had no trouble carrying him for some time, but Ori’s armour weighed him down, and today he needed all of his strength to even set one foot in front of the other and hope that wound didn’t cripple him to such an extent that it caused him to fall. That orc that had wounded him didn’t know how well aimed his strike was. The old and the new injury conspired against him.

But he was the King under the Mountain, direct descendant of Durin the Deathless, and he would not give in. And so he did what he had to, putting one foot in front of the other as he forced his body to keep going. At least the eagles seemed to have turned the tide of the battle. Under any other circumstance he would have resented not being there to lead his people in the charge, like he had done at Azanulbizar, but then, he had more pressing concerns on his mind. And the first and foremost was to get Ori to a healer. At the moment, he didn’t even mind if it was an elf, as long as his life was saved.

He didn’t get far before an enormous shadow fell over him, and still it felt like it had been hours. Thorin did not even need to turn to know that it was the beast that he had seen attacking Bolg and his followers, but he turned around all the same. If the end was coming, he wanted to see it. He would not be left in fear, wondering when death would strike him down. That was the coward’s way to go, with one’s back turned. And Thorin Oakenshield was not a coward.

True to expectations he found the beast towering over him, but only now that he was face to face with it, did he see what it truly was: a gigantic black bear looking down with far more intelligence in its eyes than a wild animal should have any right to have. Yes, there was intelligence in its eyes, and rage as well, but also something that looked remarkably like sadness.

The next moment Thorin cursed himself for a fool. Of course the bear was not going to swallow him whole. That was not why the animal was here at all. And he should have known that; he’d read Kate’s book after all. There were bits and pieces he had read over and over again. In some cases it was because the commentary she scribbled next to it was particularly amusing or informative, but that was not why he suddenly recalled this with perfect clarity.

Because there were other bits that he had read again and again, because he didn’t want to believe it, because deep down some childish part of him hoped that the story would change if he only wished hard enough. The account of the Battle of the Five Armies was one such part of the story. Only it was not a story. It had ceased to be a story long ago, if it had ever even been one.

It was as much a story now as that was a real bear.

In the back of his mind he had known all along that their host from a few months ago would show up the moment they needed him most, or that was what he was supposed to do anyway, but in the chaos of the battle he had forgotten all about it. That was an understandable mistake, he’d think. He had seen so much today, far more than he had ever wanted to see, and in the chaos of the battle, he had forgotten about the book, had forgotten about everything that didn’t occur in his immediate surroundings. So when the bear had come, his mind had been too overwhelmed with fear for Ori that he had failed to recognise the shape-shifter for what he really was: an ally.

‘Beorn,’ he acknowledged. To his shock he realised that he was out of breath and panting. His leg was making itself known, and the wound Tauriel had seen to – and stitched up – earlier was playing up again as well. He knew why too. Carrying Ori was pulling the stitches, and he would not be at all surprised if it had started bleeding again. _So, that is what Kate’s book meant when it claimed my injuries would kill me_ , he thought wryly.

The bear nodded, and had Thorin not had the day he’d had – and the day was all but over; the sun was already setting – he would have found it strange that he could accept the fact that he was communicating with a bear. As it was, he found he was only very relieved. Because there was another part that he remembered from that thrice-cursed book, the part that said that Beorn had carried him to safety. And if Beorn, in this form, could carry Thorin, then he would be able to lift Ori.

‘Take him,’ he said, holding the young dwarf’s still form out to him. ‘Make sure he’s safe. Please,’ he added when he realised that this was no creature he could order around. Truth was, Thorin already owed him more debts than he could ever hope to repay.

For a moment Beorn studied him, but then paws took the weight from Thorin’s arms, cradling Ori against his enormous form. The scribe looked like a baby held by his mother, except that not even a dwarf woman would ever be that hairy. And he didn’t think Beorn would appreciate the comparison if he would have heard Thorin’s thoughts. He didn’t seem like a man who would approve of ridicule, or the slightest hint at ridicule, even though it was not intended that way.

Either way, it was a relief to know that he had done what he could for Ori. He didn’t interact with him all that much, but he knew enough to know that he was a good lad, bookish maybe, hardly suitable for a quest such as his, but with his heart in the right place. And now his loyalty had left him at death’s door. And even if he would survive, he would be left a cripple. A scribe without his right hand. What good had this quest done him in the end?

And speaking of cripples, Thorin was only too aware of his own prospects as he sank down on a nearby piece of obliging rock. He hadn’t taken the time to look at his own injuries since he had gained them – hadn’t had the time to look at them actually – but now he could, and he should. His neck and shoulder were something he could not examine for himself, not entirely. He wasn’t all that surprised when he touched the wound, hissing in pain but biting back the groan as he did so, his hand was stained with blood. The cut wasn’t all that deep, but he could not afford the blood loss.

Because when he turned his attention to his leg, it turned out that it could be worse. The dragon had caused a lot of damage the first time around, Thorin knew that. Óin had told him so, and then Elvaethor had seconded that. The latter had even gone as far as to say that in the end he might be stuck with damage of the permanent kind. After a while however he had found that he could walk almost normally again. Almost. The pain had faded, but every now and again he had found that he was stumbling, because the knee was weaker than it had been. And now it seemed like the all of the healing it had done since Smaug’s death had been undone with one stab of an orcish blade, and his own insistence to walk when he really shouldn’t have. But then, what choice did he have?

‘You look a bit worse for wear,’ a voice commented.

Thorin had to control himself to make sure he didn’t show how startled he was. Of course the battle may be all but over, but that was no reason not to remain alert. That would be the shortest route to an early grave, and he had not survived this long only to be killed by his own carelessness.

‘Dwalin,’ he acknowledged, only then looking up. His friend had not come out of the fight unscathed himself, but at least he seemed capable of moving around of his own volition. There was a cut all across his forehead, and some blood had trickled down his face, but rather than looking weak, it made him look fearsome.

‘It’s over,’ he reported.

Thorin nodded. He had gathered that. And since there were no orcs swarming all over the field, he also knew that the Free Folk had come out victorious. But what he also knew was that the victory had come at a very high cost, judging by the number of bodies he could see around him. Elves, men and dwarves were lying side by side, sometimes even lying over one another, like they had fallen. Ironic that it took death for them to be side by side without quarrelling.

‘How bad?’ he demanded. He had lost sight of his own company early on – or what felt like early on; it was nigh on impossible to measure time in the heat of battle – but he had seen Kíli fall and Ori gravely injured. That didn’t bode well for the others.

 _Is Fíli safe?_ That was what he really wanted to know, but it would be selfish to put that question into the spoken word. But now that the rush of the battle was rapidly fading away, he all too quickly remembered that the book had not only predicted Kíli’s death, but also Fíli’s. True, Thorin himself was supposed to have perished, and he didn’t think he was going to die anytime soon, but that didn’t mean anything.

Dwalin knew him well enough to know what Thorin was asking even without needing words. ‘Fíli lives,’ he reported. ‘He’s leading the chase. Took control before Dáin could put his iron foot in,’ he added grumpily. He hadn’t liked Dáin from the moment he’d learned he wouldn’t aid the quest. ‘I haven’t seen his brother in a while, though.’ He frowned.  
Thorin ignored the unspoken question. ‘The others?’ he urged, more at peace now that he had the answer he wanted.

‘Óin’s in a bad way,’ Dwalin replied. He wasn’t one for breaking the news gently, but it was one thing Thorin liked about his friend. He’d rather have blunt honesty than the lengthy and useless explanations a lot of others, namely elves, would have given him. ‘Róni’s dead. Dáin wasn’t happy. Bofur lost an eye. There’s some talk that Ori’s lost a hand. Dori’s in a right state. Haven’t seen any of the others yet.’

Thorin squashed the feeling of guilt when he heard Dwalin mention Ori’s injury. It was not really his fault, he knew that. Ori had thrown himself in front of the blow meant for him. It had been his own choice, but it caused a bitter taste in his mouth all the same. It was wrong. All of this was wrong. This was never how he had intended his quest to go when he had first set out from the Ered Luin.

‘Kíli died,’ he said at last. It had to be said. And only now that he had spoken the words did the true meaning of that seep through. He had lost his sister-son, the young lad with the quick smile and a mouth that at times seemed to be moving a lot faster than his brain, the happy child he had known since he was born. The feeling of loss was so overwhelming that all of a sudden he found it hard to breathe.

And even though he had reclaimed his home, he had never felt so lost in all his life.

***

It was very hard to get any work done when there were three people looking over her shoulder at what she was doing, Kate found. And she had never been any good at working when there were people looking at her every move. It made her feel nervous, as if they were trying to catch her out on making a mistake. It absolutely annoyed the hell out of her. And her injury really wasn’t doing her any favours either.

‘Could you lot at least do a step or three back, if you don’t mind?’ she snapped at Tauriel, the one who stood closest to her and who consequently got to endure the brunt of her temper. Okay, and maybe the fact that she had been hovering over her like an anxious mother hen for the last half hour had something to do with that as well. ‘How am I supposed to get any work done with all of you breathing down my neck, eh?’

Honestly, her job was difficult enough as it was. Her leg was thoroughly protesting the treatment she inflicted on it, and it was hard to see properly anyway with only the flickering light of one torch to go by. And it wasn’t as if locking a dwarven door with an elven hairpin was the easiest job in the world to begin with. She could think of easier tasks without trouble. Having said that, she could think of less bizarre tasks just as easily. Locking, and especially unlocking, doors with hairpins was the stuff of fiction, not of real life, but if she’d have gotten a penny for every time she’d thought that during the past months she’d be a very rich woman by now.

Elvaethor held the torch as his sister and Bilbo did a step back. Lufur was observing from a little distance, clearly not yet ready to trust the elven rescue party. Kate couldn’t even say that she blamed him for that. She was grateful for their help, but she could have done without the fuss that they brought with them.

‘Do you think this will work, Queen Kate?’ Elvaethor inquired. Unlike his sister, he seemed more amused than anything else. Well, he would be; he was Elvaethor. As far as Kate was aware, he found most things either interesting or amusing, or both.

‘Well, it worked just fine on my mother’s cupboard when I was a kid,’ she retorted. ‘And it’s not as if we’ve actually a list of other options readily available, unless you’re volunteering to go back out, find Thorin and politely ask of him to be given the key to his kingdom so that we can lock up properly.’ And the chances of Thorin giving the key to Erebor to an elf of his own free will were non-existent.

Elvaethor ignored the last part of her speech. ‘You broke into your mother’s cupboard?’

‘To steal sweets, yes,’ Kate answered, wriggling the hairpin in from another angle, hoping to have a bit more effect. ‘Me and my brother. She never found out how we did it.’ Small talk actually helped. It distracted her from the pain in her leg – dear heavens, it felt like someone was holding a bloody torch against it – and the anxiety that this strategy had no chance of success at all.

‘And you said you grew up in Bree?’ The tone of voice was nonchalant, but Kate knew him better than that. ‘Curious books you keep there. Very realistic, if one may say so.’

It took a few seconds for Kate to understand what he was getting at, but when she did she groaned in frustration. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, not you as well!’ she complained. It was bad enough that Bilbo had helped himself to the book, but she pretty sure that Elvaethor was in fact one of the people she didn’t want anywhere near it. Oh, he was a friend, but he was also an elf, and one who apparently couldn’t keep his nose out of business that did not concern him in the slightest. She wasn’t even very surprised, just very pissed off.

‘I did no harm,’ Elvaethor said.

‘Didn’t you?’ she grumbled, pointedly avoiding looking at him. Instead she directed her best death glare at the hairpin stuck in the lock. ‘Do I perhaps need to paint a sign on my backpack? _Keep out, private property of Kate Andrews_?’

‘Gandalf asked for my assistance,’ Elvaethor said, completely calm and relaxed in the face of Kate’s flaring temper. It was that calm that was so infuriating. He didn’t behave as if he thought he had done anything wrong. Well, he wouldn’t, would he? Elves never thought they did anything wrong at all. Wasn’t that part of the reason why they had all ended up in this situation in the first place? ‘I need to be fully informed if I am to do my job properly. I am wondering how this strange book got into your possession, though. By my knowledge, Bree is merely a simple town, not known for its trade of curious artefacts.’

‘Come off it,’ she snapped, before continuing in a low hiss that she hoped to God would be too soft for Lufur and Bilbo to hear: ‘We both know I didn’t grow up there. If you read that book, then you saw the publishing date and the place it was printed.’ There seemed to be little point in lying about it when he seemed to know everything else already, and if he knew, there was probably no keeping it from Tauriel either.

‘There is no such place on Middle Earth,’ the elf agreed.

‘Then you can connect the remaining dots by yourself,’ Kate said, suddenly very glad that her makeshift key had chosen that exact moment to do what it was made to do. ‘Ah, gotcha!’ The hairpin turned in the lock; Kate could hear the reassuring clicking noise telling her that her crazy scheme actually paid off for once. ‘The orcs can push all they like, they won’t get this open again in a hurry.’ Which was to say that with any luck, they wouldn’t get it opened at all. Kate rather liked the sound of that.

‘I never thought that would work,’ Elvaethor admitted.

‘Tell you something, neither did I,’ Kate confessed, throwing the pin back to Tauriel. ‘I’m not sure if I haven’t ruined that for all eternity, but if I have, I’m sorry.’

Tauriel caught the pin with ease – sharp elven reflexes and all that stuff – and nodded at her, her face otherwise completely unreadable, something else Kate found very unnerving about her. She just couldn’t get the measure of this elf. She had known something about her existence back in her own world. Well, she had known that there was an elf called Tauriel coming in the second movie, but then Gandalf had whisked her away, so she never knew what this elf was going to be like.

All she had now was what she herself could observe. Tauriel was obviously a fair fighter; Kate had seen her in action just now, and one didn’t become captain of the guard for no reason at all. She had some healing skills as well, since she had done a rather good job of stitching up Kate’s thigh.

It was her character that remained something of a mystery. Right now she appeared to be concerned over Kate’s health, even more so than Kate herself, which was why it was so annoying. She also seemed to be in the possession of a strong sense of right and wrong, not unlike her brother, to be honest. But whereas Elvaethor was more in the habit of putting that sense of right into wrong into action, Tauriel was more vocal about it. And Kate had seen her glare during meetings when she couldn’t use words to give an outlet to her disapproval of how things were done. Beyond that, Kate knew nothing about her. Right now, with enemies marching on the Mountain, that was a very uncomfortable sort of feeling.

But this was not the time to think about unreadable elves. For all intents and purposes she was still in charge here. _Get used to that feeling, girl_. ‘So, everyone else all right?’ she asked. When she received confirmations in return, she nodded. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m all for getting back to base.’ _Not the way a queen would have said it_ , she reminded herself half a second after the last word had left her mouth. But then, she was not a queen yet, was she? She was just a young woman pretending to know what she was doing. And seeing as she was the only one in the company who actually got injured beyond a couple of scratches, it was obvious that she in fact had no clue what to do.

Fortunately no one actually called her out on it, and they all followed her back to camp. Well, all of them, apart from Elvaethor, who courteously offered her his arm so that she had someone to lean on. Kate had been adamant about not using a walking stick, but much as she hated it, she needed the help. She may have told herself time and again not to be such a baby. It was only a flesh wound and she was an adult for heaven’s sake; she could handle the pain. Except that she couldn’t. It bloody well _hurt_ , and more so with every step she made herself take. By the end of the fifteen minute walk she was panting and her the sweat was trickling down her face.

Suddenly she could understand perfectly why Thorin had been so difficult to be around the first couple of days after he had been injured, and why he had been so stubborn about pushing his body further than he should. She had been injured only about an hour ago – or was it longer; it was so difficult to tell the time today – and she already felt like screaming in frustration. She hated being weak, but at the moment that was exactly what she was.

‘Sit down, Queen Kate,’ Elvaethor advised kindly, misinterpreting the scowl she directed at the wall. ‘There is nothing any of us can do at the moment.’

‘It’s just Kate,’ she corrected. ‘No titles.’

Still, she followed his advice, sinking down on a chair that had been destined for future firewood, but had not been demolished for that purpose yet. It was an enormous relief to be able to sit and give that leg a bit of a rest, but the moment she sat, the moment she no longer had a purpose of her own, all her previous anxiety about her friends and family made a spectacular return. They were still out there, with nowhere to run to if it should all go south, because they had blocked the entrance into Erebor itself.

Tauriel seemed to have sensed her restlessness – how elves did that, Kate would never know, but she did know she hated it – because she turned around and bestowed a look on her that was a strange mixture between concern and incredulity; in short, the kind of look she had been throwing Kate’s way ever since they had met on the doorstep.

‘Take some rest,’ she seconded her brother’s advice. ‘In your condition it wouldn’t be wise…’

Kate didn’t give her the time to finish that sentence. She was anxious and frustrated, and anyone who had ever known her would have been able to inform Tauriel that trying Kate’s patience under such circumstances was not a very wise thing to do. In their absence, Kate had to take care of that part herself. And she did; she exploded. ‘One more word about my “condition,” and so help me God, I will have you kicked out of the Mountain with immediate effect, battle or not!’ She couldn’t remember getting to her feet again; she only became aware of it when the wound started aching again. ‘It’s only a bloody flesh wound for crying out loud. It’ll heal.’

Tauriel stood her ground with that same calm her brother frequently put on display. ‘That was not what I meant,’ she replied.

Kate had to remind herself that exploding a bit more would make her look like a toddler having a temper tantrum, and so she went for Thorin’s approach of choice when forced to deal with the pointy-ears. She folded her arms over her chest and stared the elf down, a school example of disapproval. The effect was somewhat undermined by the fact that she actually had to stare _up_ , though. ‘Would you perhaps like to tell me what it is then that you do mean?’

Tauriel’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. ‘Do you not know of what I speak?’ She sounded as if she found that very hard to believe.

‘Obviously,’ Kate said. ‘So anytime you would like to enlighten me, would be fine by me.’

She was aware that the others were looking at them, but she didn’t have any patience for that now. Tauriel was being all mysterious, and by the looks of things, Elvaethor knew what she was on about. Well, he was an elf. Whatever it was that Tauriel was not telling her, Bilbo and Lufur were just as oblivious as Kate was, which was something of a relief. _Always good to know you’re not the only moron in the room_. Lufur was practically radiating annoyance, and his hand was rather close to his sword. _Well, there’s another one with no patience for all this elven nonsense._

Kate was rewarded for her request by seeing Elvaethor’s sister positively flustered. ‘You mean… You really do not know?’

‘I know that you’re trying my patience,’ Kate retorted. ‘I also know you are avoiding answering the question I asked you. What I don’t know is why, or why you were assuming I already know whatever the hell it is that you’re not telling me.’

‘You are not aware that you are with child?’ Tauriel’s voice rose an octave in disbelief.

Whatever it was that Kate had thought she was going to say, this had not exactly been on top of her list. ‘Come again?’

It was Elvaethor who did the answering this time. ‘You are with child,’ he said matter-of-factly, as if he had known for ages now. ‘Couple of months along now, I think. It’s always difficult to tell with your people.’

Kate actually staggered back. With child? What the hell was he on about? She wasn’t pregnant, was she? Honestly, did he think that she wouldn’t be the first to actually notice such a thing if that was the case? For one, she would really have noticed if she had missed her period…

And there she stopped dead. Because all of a sudden she found herself wondering when exactly that last time had been. And she also found that she had to cast her mind quite a long way back. When would that have been? Lake-town?

 _Oh, shit_.

Now she found she actually had to grab the nearby table for support. How in the world had she been able to miss something of that scale? It was somewhat annoying that the answer to that question popped up almost immediately. She had been too busy with other things – finding a side door, killing a dragon, nursing an unwilling Thorin back to health, dragging Smaug’s corpse here, there and everywhere, negotiating with the most irritating people Middle Earth had to offer – to recognise the signs. Besides, she hadn’t believed it possible. This sort of thing, it couldn’t happen. Thorin and she weren’t even the same race. Good grief, they weren’t even from the same world. Not for a single moment had she even believed it possible that they could have children together. That was something that happened in fanfiction, not in real life. But then, if she’d had gotten a penny for every time she thought that and it happened regardless…

‘You have _got_ to be kidding me,’ she muttered.

‘I can assure you that I am not,’ Elvaethor said, apparently taking her remark seriously. ‘All the signs are there. All of my people know.’

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, brilliant, so even bloody Thranduil knew before me. I hope to God he won’t ever hear that; he’d have a field day.’

Her mind was going at a hundred miles an hour, thoughts and emotions rushing past with such speed that she could not honestly even begin to identify most of them. Shock was rather present though, as was confusion. Panic was making itself rather comfortable, too. She had never even anticipated this, had not even considered the possibility of this. And now she was told that it was not only a possibility, but it had already happened. She was already pregnant, had been for a few months. And she had no idea how to handle it. Heaven knew she had enough trouble as it was wrapping her head around the concept.

Pregnant, with child, going to have a baby. No matter how she phrased it, it all sounded so very surreal to her. It just didn’t happen. If there was one thing Thorin and she had agreed on, it was that this was impossible. They had even had a conversation about it. Admittedly it had been one of the most awkward conversations Kate had ever had in her life, but they had agreed on that. Men were Ilúvatar’s children, dwarves were Mahal’s. With two different creators, how could they ever be compatible?

Real life however had ignored her and it had happened all the same. Ironic really that she had already been expecting that day she had that particular conversation with Thorin. And here she was, pregnant and definitely panicking by now.

‘Good grief,’ she whispered as the news really started to seep through. Outside a battle was raging, a battle that might end Thorin’s life. The whole future, her whole future, was hanging in the balance, and she had just discovered that she had a baby on the way. And even if this whole fight would result in victory and Thorin would live, who was to say that people would ever really accept her child? Half dwarf only, but child of the King under the Mountain? Good heavens, it might start a riot, if those looks she had gotten from Dáin’s advisors were any indication.

‘You seem to be in good health,’ Tauriel informed her in what probably supposed to pass as a reassuring tone of voice. Kate found it didn’t work on her. ‘Your baby does not appear to be in any danger after today’s events.’

‘That was not what I meant,’ she muttered.

Her worries were of a different nature altogether. Never mind the consequences in the bigger picture, Kate wasn’t all that certain that she herself was anywhere near ready for this. In fact, it might be closer to the truth if she were to say that she was nowhere near ready for this. She’d always wanted children, but not now, not so soon. She didn’t know how to do this. But there was no going back now. This was happening now. Somewhere inside her there was new life growing. And it terrified the hell out of her.

A small voice in the back of her head told her that this was hardly fair to the baby, who couldn’t help existing in the first place, and Kate knew that. But right at that moment it was hard to see beyond her own panic.

Not all that long ago, she had thought about this, had thought about what she couldn’t have and found that yes, in a couple of years, she would like to have kids of her own. In almost the same thought however she had resigned herself to never having them. _Well, it isn’t as if no one has ever told you to be careful with what you wish for, Andrews._

It really was ironic. Had she found out that she could have children with Thorin at any other time, she would probably have been thrilled, would probably have done a happy dance around the Mountain. And now her wish had more or less come true, and she was scared out of her wits. _Make up your mind, will you?_

Well, there was a difference between wishing for something and suddenly finding out that it was real. Wishing was safe, after all. Wishes didn’t come true just because you wanted them to, not usually. That was not the way the world worked. The world also seemed to have developed the habit of blatantly ignoring what was and wasn’t supposed to be possible.

Tauriel seemed puzzled. ‘Then what do you mean?’

And that was the one question Kate really wasn’t ready to answer.

That was quite possibly why she was so grateful for Elvaethor’s umpteenth rescue mission. During the time Kate had been gathering her thoughts – or had been attempting to gather them at any rate – he had climbed up to a window. It was boarded up of course, but he managed to peek through some small opening or other to see what was going on outside. ‘Ah,’ he said, turning around and drawing everyone’s attention.

‘What is happening?’ Bilbo asked. The hobbit had alternated between throwing shocked looks at Kate and trying to make himself all but invisible without the additional help of the Ring for the duration of this sort of conversation, but now he came out of his shell again.

The triumph written all over the elf’s face really was all the answer Kate needed. ‘It’s over,’ he announced. ‘The Free Folk are victorious.’

 

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Heavens be thanked for that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: dealing with the aftermath.  
> Please review?


	85. Loss and Life

_Oh, my dear Thoren, I realise that my last bit of writing may not have been all that easy for you to read. I reckon that maybe it was even rather painful for you. As I am writing this, I can only imagine your reaction to this, and I do feel troubled that I may have caused you pain with it, that I maybe even made you feel unwanted, a burden rather than a precious and cherished blessing from both your Makers._

_I also realise that if you did indeed make such an assumption, your father’s and my own behaviour may not have helped you to be convinced otherwise. After all, we hardly ever talk about those days. We have told you the basic facts, what happened during the battle, who lived and who died, what happened to the alliance of the Free Folk afterwards. In short, we told you as little as we could get away with, and for some reason you never asked further, even though you must have realised at some point that during those events I was already pregnant. I sometimes wonder why. Were you afraid of the answers?_

_The reason why the story of those days was never told is a simple one though. It was too painful, and, when you were younger, it would have been too confusing for you as well. You simply wouldn’t have understood what all the fuss was about, I think. Now, when you are all grown up, I think you will._

_The news of your existence, Thoren, as you know, came very unexpected for me, completely out of the blue. But it also had the downside of coming at a time when so many other things were going on that I could not fully wrap my head around the fact that you were there, growing inside me, and that in a couple of months I was going to be a mother. An ordinary woman – one who doesn’t have to worry about anything more important than the troubles of daily life – might be fretting over whether or not she will be a good mother. By the way, I leave the judgement about my mothering skills entirely up to you, my dear._

_But that was not just the point for me. When Tauriel bluntly – very unlike elves do, I might add – imparted the news on me that I was with child, I did not only have to worry about how good a mother I might be, once I had actually gotten used to that idea in the first place. No, because you are who you are, my dear one, the mere fact that you were going to be born would have Consequences, not just for the future of Erebor and Durin’s Folk – and that were big issues as well, don’t you underestimate that – but also for my personal future and the planned return trip to my home world._

_And sometimes I do believe I think too much. There are many times when I actually think too little and I do or say something that is nothing short of a direct route to disaster, but when there’s no immediate crisis, I have the very annoying habit to think too much, to go over all scenarios – the worst case versions mostly – and effectively scare myself half to death with the possibilities of what could go wrong._

_There was a lot that could go wrong, Thoren. You’re old and wise enough to work out most of it by yourself without me spelling it out to you. But please, don’t ever mistake that for being unwanted or unloved, because you are neither, and you weren’t then either. It took me a while to realise that, I admit, because at the time it was not you, but the idea of you that made my mind go into overdrive. Tiny and invisible though you were, the idea of you terrified the hell out of me, and for that I apologise._

_But, as it turns out, I was soon provided with a whole lot of other very important things to worry myself over…_

 

‘I’m going.’

The words were out of Kate’s mouth before she could check herself, but once she spoke them, she knew that there was no force on earth that was going to stop her. She needed out of here, and she needed out of here now.

 _That’s running_ , she thought. _You’re running away from something you don’t want to hear, Andrews, and you know it._

She squashed the thought. She didn’t do running, not like this anyway. She had faced down orcs, elves and even a dragon. She hadn’t run from any of them, so she sure as hell wasn’t going to run from this piece of news. _Besides, it’s not as if you can actually run away from a baby that’s growing in your own womb. Where you go, that baby goes._

So, no, Kate wasn’t running. She was just desperately in need of fresh air. And outside of this stuffy Mountain was where the aforementioned fresh air could be acquired. There was some way she could make herself useful there, no doubt. It was better than contemplating the consequences of this realisation any time anyway.

‘I would strongly advise against such a course of action,’ Elvaethor said.

Kate’s patience with him – friend or not – was non-existent by now. She’d thought that his announcement that the Free Folk had won had not been just that, it had also been a rescue attempt, a way to stop everyone from fussing over the fact that she was pregnant. Kate mentally flinched at the word. Ugh, she was nowhere near ready for this. There were so many things already demanding her attention, and she had already successfully ignored the signs that only now seemed too obvious to miss to her, so she might as well keep it up for another couple of days, at least until things quietened down just a little bit.

‘Yes, you would,’ she snapped. ‘Fortunately I, and not you, am the one who calls the shots here.’ And she was so done with all the patronising. Elvaethor wasn’t even doing the worst of it, and she was convinced that Tauriel really only meant the best for her, but Kate was hardly in the appreciating mood.

‘I was merely advising,’ the elf reminded her.

‘Then this was me telling you I don’t need the advice,’ Kate retorted. She was only too aware how childish and stubborn she sounded. This was not the way a queen would deal with such a situation, but she didn’t care. Not yet. Soon enough there may come a time that she would regret her actions, but she’d deal with that when the time came. ‘My husband is out there, and so are my brothers. I am going to find them, and I really don’t require your permission. Lufur, Bilbo?’

She turned around and made for the door, only to come to the conclusion that walking out was not as easy as she had hoped it was going to be. Her body was all too quick to remind her that she had been injured not all that long ago and she was in no fit state to walk anywhere at the moment. She was a bloody invalid.

So the heavens be praised for Lufur. He found a long stick, once part of the furniture, now awaiting its fate as firewood, but just long enough to make for a good walking stick. What she wouldn’t give for the hospital-issued crutches from home right now, but then, if she’d been in a hospital, she sincerely doubted they would have let her out. With that injury she would have been confined to a bed for the foreseeable future most likely. And that was probably a good thing, medically speaking.

‘Thanks,’ she said before turning back to Elvaethor. ‘Right. You can either come with me or moan about how I am not supposed to be moving. I’m going out all the same.’ She had been about to add an _And I’d like to see you try and stop me_ , only just in time realising that yes, he might actually do that very easily. Best not give him ideas.

Elvaethor fortunately seemed to recognise a lost cause when he happened upon one, because he gave a long-suffering sigh, as if he had been forced to put up with a stubborn child, but then he offered her his arm to support her on the other side. Well, she didn’t have any crutches, but she’d have to make do with what she could get.

‘May I offer my assistance?’ he inquired.

‘I think you may,’ Kate said, just glad that he wouldn’t fight her over this one any more. She’d had enough of fights to last her a lifetime, several lifetimes quite possibly, and it was a relief to have things going her way for just once without having to make much of an effort of it.

It was a strange feeling that took possession of her as she descended the stairs to the main gate. She still wanted to run, she still wanted out, to forget – temporarily – about what she had been told, but the closer they came to the gate, the more nerves assembled themselves, effectively doing the job of pushing the news to the background.

Because she had more important things to worry about. When Elvaethor had given her the news that the battle was over and that the allies had won, of course she had been relieved to hear it, but her mind had been on other things and the relief had only been half-hearted and mostly reserved for the fact that it ended the awkward conversation they were having. The relief still couldn’t take centre stage, because now it was overshadowed by the very realistic fear that not everyone she loved may have made it out.

The longer she thought about that, the more jumpy she became. They were all out there, everyone she cared about in this world, her friends, her family. She hardly dared to think of Thorin’s name at all. And she hadn’t even spared him as much as a thought in hours, too caught up in the business of trying to stay alive and to keep the orcs out of Erebor. And that frightened her almost more than anything else. He could die, could have died out there and she would not even think of him. Of course, with her mind she knew that it was the height of folly to think that she could keep him alive with the mere power of her thoughts, but she could at least hope that the universe was willing to make that bargain with her for him, for him and for everybody else she cared about out there that she cared about while she was at it. Of course, it was a battle and people died, but they didn’t have to be the people she cared about. At the same time she realised that there had to be women all over the world who were hoping for the same thing.

It didn’t stop her from hoping, though. She wanted her loved ones to live, and she wanted to see them, to have visual proof of their survival, but at the same time she feared that such proof might not be available, not ever. So now she was torn between wanting to go out to see and delay as long as she could in order to avoid what she didn’t want to know. _You’re a bloody coward, Andrews._

Mixed feelings, that was what they were, but Kate had long since ceased to be a stranger to those. Loving Middle Earth while longing for home, loving Thorin when knowing she really shouldn’t. No, she was hardly new to this. It wasn’t any easier for that though. _When did my life become so bloody complicated?_ She had a lingering suspicion that it had begun with a holiday brochure in the post many months ago, in what now felt like a different life altogether. One day, Kate swore, Gandalf would pay for that meddling, one way or another.

She left it to Lufur and Elvaethor to wrench the doors open far enough for them to squeeze through. But this left them with another problem, because leaving the Mountain unguarded went against the grain. Besides, Nói was still in the dungeons – oh, she was so not looking forward to explaining that whole thing to Dáin – and there were lots of people outside who had been very determined about getting in not all that long ago.

Lufur himself seemed to have realised the problem for himself. ‘I will stay behind, my lady,’ he announced, looking mightily uncomfortable with his own decision. Kate didn’t need to look long before she recognised the source of his unease. Lufur was stealing glances at the elves, before turning to shoot worried looks in her direction. He didn’t trust their elvish companions any further than he could throw them, and given the long history of mutual dislike and distrust, Kate could hardly blame him. Goodness knew she herself had no idea what to make of them half of the time. Elvaethor she finally trusted, and she rather thought Tauriel was not about to make an attempt on her life after today, but the Mirkwood elves in general had never seemed all that kindly inclined towards her or her company.

‘Good.’ She really didn’t know what else to say. And it wasn’t as if she had a whole list of other options available. ‘Bilbo, would you mind staying with him?’ So far the rest of the world seemed mostly oblivious to the hobbit’s presence, and it certainly couldn’t hurt to keep it that way for a little longer. Who knows what was going to happen still. They could use an ace up their sleeve.

Bilbo, who as it was seemed to harbour absolutely no wish to reacquaint himself with the big bad world behind the dragon’s corpse, was quick to agree. There was something about the way he shoved his hands down the pockets of his jacket that was a bit off as well. First Kate had thought it was something of a nervous tick, but then she realised he had only started doing it today, making her believe that it was something in that pocket that made him act like this. She hoped to God it wasn’t the Ring that made him behave this strange.

But now was hardly the time to dwell on that. She had companions to find and so she took another deep breath – _Get a freaking grip and keep going, girl. No point in delaying the inevitable_ – and started to hop her way past the dragon’s corpse. Elvaethor couldn’t walk next to her here, because the space was just too cramped, so he went first, leaving Kate to fend for herself. And that wasn’t all that easy with one leg that had decided it had quite enough of carrying her weight around all day. Her body was telling her she was pressing it too far, and she was the one who wasn’t listening.

But right now the pain that shot up and down her leg with every step she took was quite a good distraction from all kinds of doom scenarios her mind kept providing her with. Thorin dead, Fíli dead, Kíli dead, Ori dead… She could go on and on and work herself up into a frenzy of legendary proportions, but the injury kept her grounded in the here and now. She supposed she might even be sort of grateful to the orc who had taken it upon himself to turn her into a cripple for the next couple of weeks. Not that she would admit that when called on it. It sounded strange even to her own ears. Anyone else would think she had gone insane. Of course the elves already thought she had, so it wouldn’t make for that big a change.

Elvaethor took the lead even when they had gone past the dragon. He had probably just been a captain of the guard for too long, and habits were often hard to break. He did offer her his arm to guide her across the field of battle, though. Kate was glad of it. Darkness had fallen and even though the sky was now clear – so unlike how it had been during the day itself – and filled with stars, it was hard to see where she was going, hard not to stumble. And truth be told, Kate really would rather not look down at all. She didn’t want to really know what she could stumble over, too afraid it would be a familiar face. Even though she had been the one to insist she was taken out, it didn’t mean she would ever be ready for this.

In the end the choice was not even up to her. They walked in silence for a while, she didn’t know how long, slowly making their way to a cluster of tents and lights Elvaethor had discovered a while ago, pointing out that was looking like some sort of headquarters. Kate didn’t have his super elven sight and had taken his word for it. What did she know about such things anyway?

‘Kate!’ a voice exclaimed and Kate’s gaze immediately turned left, to be met with the sight of her eldest brother. It was difficult to be sure in this light, but he seemed unharmed. And if he had been injured, the damage was not to his legs, because he was running without any visible effort. And if the way his hands were flapping about were any indication, nothing was wrong with him there either. _One brother accounted for, two still to go._

‘Dori!’ She didn’t think she’d ever called out for him all that enthusiastically. Normally when she spoke his name, it was with an air of either fond exasperation or several levels of absolute annoyance. He was quite skilled in the art of driving her up the wall and around the bend with all his fussing, but today she was genuinely glad to see him.

Kate was tempted to add an excited ‘You’re alive!’ but that would be way too cliché and quite frankly rather stating the obvious. Besides which, she would have to remember that now she was surrounded by elves again, and they didn’t know her in any other role than that of queen. Not that she was the most conventional queen in the universe, but she was already unconventional enough without demonstrating the point any further.

Dori was in no way affectionate, not in the way most people were anyway, but suddenly Kate found herself enveloped in a massive hug she found herself returning after the initial surprise had worn off.

‘What happened?’ Dori demanded the moment he had enough of the hugging and was keeping her at arm’s length to inspect her. It was hardly a surprise the first thing he saw was that bandage around her thigh. It was rather difficult to miss, she supposed.

‘Orcs knocking on the backdoor,’ she reported. Honestly, she really had better things to worry about. Some people would feel the need to crow their victory, and Kate didn’t expect she’d be any different from them, but there was a time and a place. The aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies was neither. ‘We fought them off.’ And she was determined to leave it at that. ‘What about Nori? Ori?’ _What about Thorin? What about Fíli? What about Kíli?_ Those questions seemed like the most important ones to ask, given the contents of that thrice-cursed book, but Dori was unlikely to see it that way. So she had to contain herself and keep her mind on her brothers. _And really Andrews, they are not all that unimportant, are they?_

The next moment she almost felt ashamed for the way she felt. None of them were unimportant, for heaven’s sake. She had been anxious over all of them for the duration of her walk – stumble – here, but it was just that some had been in more danger than other. Or well, if the book was right about anything. And it had been right about way too many things already.

At the mention of Nori’s name, Dori frowned in that well-known way. It was how he looked whenever Nori had gotten himself into some trouble that wasn’t in any way serious. It just sufficed to make Dori worry to an extent that he would all but pull out his own hair in worrying when Nori could not see him, only to give his younger brother a sound scolding when he did lay eyes on him again. ‘Nori is fine,’ he commented curtly. ‘A few scratches. Almost had his toes cut off, the reckless young fool.’

‘Almost.’ Kate could a smile feel tugging at her mouth. Two brothers accounted for. The smile vanished though when she realised Dori had not applied the physical condition of fine to Ori. ‘And Ori?’ She wasn’t all that sure she wanted to hear the answer to that question. _Please, don’t let him be dead. Let him live. For heaven’s sake, he’s barely a grown-up by the reckoning of his people._

Dori remained silent for a few seconds, a shadow of worry flashing across his face. ‘It’s better if you saw that for yourself.’

That was not an answer to her query by any stretch of the imagination. It was avoiding the question more like, and avoiding the topic had never boded well before. And he hadn’t even made a legendary fuss about her injury, which he would have done in any other situation. The only reason why he would ever act that way was because something else was much, much more urgent. And Kate didn’t like to even consider what it would be that would put her injury into perspective like that.

But before she could even begin to voice her protest, Dori was already marching back the way he had come, giving her very little choice but to follow. So she took Elvaethor’s arm and tried to hop over to the tent Dori made course for as fast as her legs would carry her, which wasn’t all that fast right now. She kept up a sotto voce stream of curses that were decidedly non-Middle Earth in origin as she walked. It wasn’t as if it mattered now. Elvaethor already knew she wasn’t from around her, so why keep pretending when there was no absolute need? And it did the job of keeping her mind on minor problems rather than the one she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready to face. Her mind had gone into overdrive, firing horror after horror at her; she could use the distraction.

It was a relief greater than she had words to describe it when she came into the tent and saw Ori, lying on a bed, eyes closed, not moving, except for the rising and falling of his chest. _Breathing. Life. Thank God_. Her mind had ceased to be capable of coherent thought, but had been aware enough to observe and draw the correct conclusion. _Alive. Not dead. Hope. Future. Life. Life, life, life_. ‘Thank God,’ she whispered. The words came from the bottom of her heart. ‘He’s alive.’

Cliché or not, she couldn’t care right now. Guiltily she realised that out of all three of her brothers, Ori was decidedly her favourite. Dori nagged and nagged and nagged until she could slap him, Nori annoyed the hell out of her at times and she could banter with him for hours on the road – and actually they had once, driving the rest of the company to distraction in the process – but Ori was the one who took the time to sit next to her and talk with her. He was basically the one who taught her how to live in Middle Earth, tell her its histories, his language. Kate loved spending time with him. And it had been Ori she had been fretting over most. He was the bookish one, not a warrior. How was he supposed to survive a battle of this magnitude? But he had survived.

Then her mind caught up with her, forcefully reminding her that something must have gone terribly, terribly wrong for her brother to end up here, in a bed, unconscious. Her eyes shot over his still form, trying to find the reason for his condition.

She didn’t have to search for long. His arms were lying on the blanket. The left had some scratches on it, but not enough to justify this, and so she moved on to the right. And wished she hadn’t.

It didn’t take a genius to piece the pieces together. There were so many bandages, it was impossible to miss them. And not all of them as white as they once had been either. They weren’t blood-soaked, but they had blood on them, and it was unlikely to be the healer’s, because no healer would tend to a patient if he himself was in the process of bleeding out, would he? No, the blood would be Ori’s.

The dread fell around her like a freezing cloak, enveloping her completely, leaving her shivering and vaguely nauseous. He was lying so still. Was he in danger of dying? Had Dori brought her here to witness Ori’s final moments?

‘He will be fine,’ someone said. Kate didn’t know the voice, didn’t even bother to turn and look to see who had spoken. _He will be fine_. That was all she needed to hear. _He will be fine._ That meant that he wasn’t so now. _He will be fine_.

The hesitant relief that he wasn’t in mortal danger after all vanished instantly when she finally realised what was wrong with Ori’s right arm. It was shorter than his left. It was shorter than it had been before the battle. It had been violently made shorter, she knew. It had been made shorter by a hand.

‘ _No_.’ Suddenly she felt cold. Her stomach turned. Someone had cut off Ori’s hand. He was a scribe and someone had just destroyed his life in a way that was almost crueller than death. They had taken his hand. They could have taken his legs, they could have taken anything and Ori would go about life as he normally would have, albeit with a bit more difficulty than usual. But no, they had taken his hand, his right hand, the very one he used to write.

In hindsight she couldn’t say how long she had been standing there, or even who was there with her. She could only stare, hands shaking, eyes watering because it was all so unfair. And she felt old, weary, exhausted. What kind of world was this that a young lad like that could be treated this cruel? If not for the grip Elvaethor still had on her arm, she might have fallen to the ground there and then.

She couldn’t even feel relief when Dwalin of all people snapped her out of her shock by entering the tent and telling her that Thorin wished to see her. She couldn’t even feel the relief at hearing the news that Thorin lived just yet. She just fled.

***

By the time Thorin and Dwalin had made their way back to where most of the allied troops were gathering, darkness had fallen. They had the good fortune that the moon was out, bathing the battleground in a silvery light that softened the picture of all the fallen bodies. It made it look less harsh, less horrible, than it would look in the daylight. There was something he did not look forward to seeing, the undeniable evidence that this battle had taken place. He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know how many had perished today.

His leg was protesting all the way, but Thorin hardly felt it. The moment he had told Dwalin that Kíli had been slain, it had all become real. His sister-son, Kíli Dragonslayer, was gone, never to return. He had known for months now that it had been a possibility, but he had always tried to deny it, always tried to find a way around what the book predicted. And in a way he had even succeeded. He was still alive, and so was Fíli. In anyone’s book that would count as a success. Thorin didn’t think success usually felt like this, though.  
The elves had set up tents to treat the wounded in, even though they didn’t look like they would do a lot to keep the cold out. But then, the tent in which the negotiations had taken place had been warmer than it should have been inside.

‘Who goes there?’ a voice called out, elvish by the sound of it. There was something familiar about it, but Thorin couldn’t place it. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to either.

Dwalin took it upon himself to reply and to demand a healer immediately. Thorin hated to be seen as weak, but he could hardly let his injuries go untreated for much longer. The walk had done him no good as it was.

Dwalin was never the most talkative of dwarves, but the news about Kíli’s demise had made him keep his tongue for the duration of the walk. Others might think that he was blaming Thorin, but the King under the Mountain knew better. The silence felt like a consolation more than anything else. And it was Dwalin’s silent support that he now craved. Words only hurt.

They were invited to come in by the same voice that had demanded their identities just a few seconds previous. The light streamed out of a relatively big tent and now Thorin could see the elf that had spoken, Thranduil’s son. Even after this battle, he didn’t even have a hair out of place. Well, that was elves for you, wasn’t it?

He tried to walk rather than stumble into the light, but he failed, spectacularly, as Kate would say it. If it hadn’t been for Dwalin’s steadying presence and his hold on Thorin, he would have fallen face first on the floor. Now that would have made for a terrifying prospect. No doubt all the elves who were anyone would have come through with not as much as a scratch on them. And he really couldn’t stand that.

Legolas – that was the lad’s name – gave Thorin a critical once over and then nodded. ‘I will find you a healer,’ he announced. ‘Please, do sit down.’

Thorin was about to call him out on his assumption that he was the one to call the shots, but the elf had already vanished into the dark and he found that he did not really have the energy to spare for a lecture, no matter how justified it would be. The last reserves had gone into making it back to his allies, and now his strength had all but run out. He as good as collapsed onto the closest available surface, a low cot with something on it that wasn’t even worth the name of mattress and a thick blanket. He couldn’t care less.

Dwalin had that look on his face, that look that Thorin really knew better from his brother to be honest. It was the kind of look that said that he knew exactly how hard Thorin had been pushing himself and he didn’t approve of it one bit. But what else could he have done? Turn his back on the battle and run like a coward? He had never done that in his life and he was not about to start.

It was only now that he was sitting down that he realised that he had really lost something. He had lost one of the people he had tried so hard to protect. Admittedly, after Smaug he had almost fooled himself into believing that everything would turn out all right. Kíli had killed the dragon, the most dangerous monster of their age. He could handle a battle. It was a harsh reminder that he could not now that the battle was over and Kíli’s body was out there somewhere. Mahal preserve him, would there ever come a day that he wasn’t weighed down by the losses he had suffered?

 _You’re having one of those moods again_ , a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. _You’re brooding, and it really won’t solve a thing, so stop it._ The voice sounded remarkably like Kate’s.

Kate. It was like having his head pushed in a bucket of ice water. For some insane reason she had completely slipped his mind. And that was as good as unforgiveable. The last time his thoughts had strayed in her direction was when he learned that the Mountain itself was under attack. She was in danger. Or she had been in danger. Or she was dead. And he hadn’t thought about her since Elvaethor and his sister – her name had slipped his mind again – took off to help them. Kíli had taken over his mind, and then the fighting and Ori had taken the space that still remained. And all the while she had been in there, fighting off orcs with only an inexperienced warrior and a burglar by her side. And maybe she would have two elves. Five people against the might Bolg had commanded? He felt himself go cold inside. _Mahal, no. You took my sister-son. Don’t take her as well._

‘What about her?’ Dwalin asked, frown on his face.

Thorin realised he had spoken her name out loud without even realising it, which was not a good thing. He tended to be in firm control of his own tongue. Not today, though. Today had taken its toll. He _needed_ to know.

‘Have you seen her?’ he demanded without explaining the reason for his question, knowing full well that he was rude, something he hadn’t been to Dwalin in a very long time. He would do the explaining and apologising later. ‘After the battle? Have you seen her?’

Dwalin’s face was unreadable, but Thorin knew him well enough to know that he had probably crossed a line somewhere. ‘I believe Dáin saw her, when she was on her way over to visit Ori. Thorin…’

More words followed, but Thorin couldn’t say what they were. Relief washed over him. She was alive. She had survived. And he couldn’t even care how she had managed it. Right this moment he couldn’t even care if they had lost Erebor in the process. Kate lived, Fíli lived. He himself had also survived. It was a relief to know, even if it did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, the hole Kíli’s death had left. The wound was too fresh, and part of him even blamed himself for being able to feel relief and a small amount at joy for not having taken everything from him.

‘Get her.’ The command had come over his lips before he had really thought about it. ‘Please,’ he added.

‘Well, glad to see you haven’t lost your manners over it,’ his old friend muttered. The tone of voice could very easily be mistaken for chagrin, but Thorin heard the affection. He was a blessed dwarf to have the friendship of one so loyal, he knew. And he hadn’t said that nearly enough lately.

It also reminded him that he had been very remiss in inquiring after Dwalin’s own family, so absorbed had he been in his. And that had to stop here. It was true, he was an uncle and soon-to-be husband, but he was the King under the Mountain as well, and he should have known better than to put his own interests over those of his people. It was not always easy, but it was necessary.

‘What of Balin?’ he asked, trying not to be all gruff and unkind. ‘Did he make it through? Is there any news?’

With anyone else, Dwalin wouldn’t even have dared to show emotion, but they had been friends for so long now, that Thorin was pleased to find that he was an exception. Worry flashed across his face. ‘No news as of yet,’ he reported curtly. ‘He fought with Dáin’s men last I heard.’

‘If his blade is only half as sharp as his tongue, he will be fine.’ Thorin had an annoying feeling that his attempt at light-heartedness had failed before he had even begun. Banter hardly worked when his heart felt as heavy as it did. ‘It’s early still.’

‘Aye, he’ll turn up,’ Dwalin nodded, all emotion carefully shoved back behind that unreadable expression. ‘I’ll get your wife then, shall I?’

Thorin was about to protest that she wasn’t his wife, at least not yet, but he caught himself at the last possible moment. Maker, he must be tired if he was slipping up like this, forgetting that to all his allies, they had been married for quite some time. And there were elves crawling all over this place who could overhear him. Now that he was for all intents and purposes at their mercy – a notion he disliked for more reasons than he had fingers and toes to list them on – it would be most unwise to give them any reason to accuse him of lying. The matters that had led to the conflict that had arisen before the orcish threat had appeared were still unresolved. This had only been a truce. It would break apart soon enough, and then they were back where they had started.

He nodded, and Dwalin left the tent without uttering another word. Not that he was to be left alone for long, for the elvish – of course it had to be an elf – healer made his entrance. He barely spoke a word, and Thorin found himself appreciating the silence. It had to be a first; meeting an elf who didn’t feel the need to either stare down at him like he was worth less than the dirt underneath his shoes or fill the air with a lot of words, meaningless words most of the time. He only said the most necessary things, telling Thorin when to change position so that he could do his job better and advising him on how to treat the wounds afterwards. Nothing he said was something Thorin had not at least expected. He would live, but the healing process would take a while.

The pain was bearable, even though Thorin had to grind his teeth and remind himself that it wouldn’t do to cry out when the elf got to work on his injured leg. He had not actually looked down to assess the damage all that thoroughly, but he knew enough to realise that this time he might not be as lucky as he had been last time, even with elven aid at hand. Strangely enough the thought that he might never walk again as he had before didn’t terrify him as much as it had done. It even paled in comparison with the emotional pain that felt like it was stabbing knives in his chest. Surely he would start paying attention to it soon enough again, when he would need to turn his mind back to matters of state, but not today. Not yet.

It was not until the elven healer was finished and directed his gaze at the opening of the tent that Thorin realised that they were no longer alone.

‘You may enter, my lady,’ the elf said.

Thorin turned his head, only to find himself looking at Kate. He exhaled in relief, not even sure why he did that. He had known that she was still alive, and he had never doubted Dwalin’s word for even a second. It was good to see her standing here all the same, breathing, alive.

He gave her a quick once over. She looked tired, he decided. There were dark circles under her eyes, and even her hair seemed to have lost some of its life. The curls, normally sticking out in every direction, now hung down. She had donned a smile, that she directed at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There were emotions there that he could not name, and that worried him. How much did she know already? What had she been told that made her look like that? He dreaded to think.

‘We make a good couple,’ she said, in true Kate style avoiding all the heavy topics, settling on something that on a better day may have been their very own kind of banter. ‘We’re a pair of bloody cripples both.’ She looked down meaningfully at her own leg.

That was an area that had not been included in his initial scrutiny, but now it got his full attention. To his horror he realised that she had a cane that she actually needed due to a wound that was the length of her thigh. A bandage had been wrapped around it, quite professionally by the looks of it, but it was the fact that there even was a bandage that gave Thorin the shivers. Just how close had she come to the actual fighting?

‘What happened?’ he questioned sharply. As always his attempts at trying to sound worried and caring resulted in a snapped inquiry that tended to convey the opposite of the message he was trying to give.

He had the good luck that Kate knew how to read him. ‘Couple of orcs,’ she replied vaguely. ‘They came knocking on the backdoor. Well, when I say knocking…’ She caught Thorin’s impatient look and gave up. ‘It looks worse than it is, really. According to Tauriel nothing vital has been hit and I should be as right as rain in a couple of weeks. And the orcs have been sent packing.’ The smile seemed just that bit more genuine for just a second. ‘And Bilbo was the hero of the hour, as per bloody usual. He cut the ropes holding the ladder in place. They didn’t take Erebor, Thorin. The Mountain is safe.’ She considered that. ‘Well, as safe as it can be under the given circumstances,’ she conceded.

‘How many?’ Thorin asked.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Orcs? Don’t know really. I wasn’t exactly counting them, if you don’t mind. But quite a lot. It’s for sure that there would have been a hell of a lot more if Bilbo hadn’t come to the rescue. And I may owe Tauriel my life.’

Thorin closed his eyes as he realised just how close he had come to losing her. He was certain that Kate was belittling the events that had taken place on the mountainside, but her injury and the casual mention that she was only still alive because of that she-elf spoke for themselves. So close to losing yet another he cared about.

‘I’d hate to say, but you don’t look any better than I do,’ she pointed out, gaze lingering on the now dressed wound. ‘How’s that going to go?’

‘It will heal,’ Thorin replied curtly. His own injuries were not important.

‘Hm,’ Kate said. She seemed to be on the verge of saying something else, but she was swaying on her feet.

‘Sit,’ Thorin commanded. ‘Before you fall.’

‘Sounds like a plan, that,’ she agreed. It spoke volumes that she didn’t even remark on the fact that he had for all intents and purposes ordered her to do something. And Kate Andrews never listened to orders. ‘Besides, Tauriel might start nagging me, again, if I don’t. I’m telling you she’s been hovering over me like a concerned mother hen ever since I got injured. She’s worse than Dori…’ She trailed off.

‘You have seen Ori,’ Thorin concluded. The lad had been so brave, so very, very brave, but in the end it was more or less his own fault that his hand had been severed. He had been so eager to protect Thorin that he had not seen that the blow would have missed him, and so he had put himself right in harm’s way. And that was sour. Thorin felt responsible too, even though he shouldn’t be, since there was nothing he could have done.

Kate nodded. ‘I have. The healers say he’ll live. But he’s lost his hand.’ She bit her lip. ‘He’s a scribe and he’s lost his bloody hand.’ There were tears in her eyes, but she bit them back. ‘They say Bofur’s lost an eye, and Óin is not out of danger yet. Word is that Nori lost a couple of toes.’ She shook her head. ‘I know it’s a battle, and it would be so unrealistic to expect that everyone makes it out, but…’

‘Did Ori tell you how he lost the hand?’ Thorin asked, uncharacteristically soft.

Kate’s head snapped up. ‘No, but I’m guessing you were there.’ Something in his voice or expression had snapped her out of her melancholy. Thorin knew that face. She was on the warpath for some reason, and he was on the receiving end of her annoyance. ‘And don’t you dare,’ she warned. ‘Believe me, part of me wants to blame you for ever letting him get into this, but he chose to be here, and he chose to put himself in danger. As much as I want it to be different, we’re talking about a battle. And to be honest, I can’t even find the energy to fight with you.’

It was obvious in her voice, the exhaustion. Or maybe it was only so obvious to him because he felt it himself. His body was yearning for a rest, but that was not the most important part of it. It was the mental tiredness, the longing to sleep and wake up to a world that would be that little bit kinder.

‘As you wish,’ he said, far too formal. What he really wanted was to wrap his arms around her, hold her close, be comforted by the presence of another living person. He didn’t feel like he could, though. She didn’t yet know everything. She didn’t know that Kíli had been killed yet. She may not blame him for the loss of Ori’s hand, but she may well blame him for that. They had been friends, certainly after they had killed the dragon, an ordeal they had gone through together.

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Much as I really don’t want to fight with you today, I’m having the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.’ That intuition of hers was spot on, of course, and they both knew it. After months on the road they knew how to read one another most of the time. And his face would be an open book.

‘You don’t want to know,’ he told her truthfully. She may think that she did, but some things would be better dealt with in the morning after a couple of hours of sleep.

‘I think I’ll be the judge of that.’ Her temper was flaring. ‘For heaven’s sake, Thorin, stop patronising me! I’ve had enough of the elves doing that already and I had rather hoped you’d do me the courtesy of leaving it to my own judgment, thank you very much.’ Something in the words made him almost frown. Kate obviously wasn’t overly pleased with what the elves had done and said, and while he assumed that their fussing had been about Kate’s injury, he felt like that wasn’t all of it. She was concealing something.

Best stay on topic, though. Whatever it was that Kate didn’t say, it could wait. His news, however, could not. And there was no use arguing, and Thorin could no longer summon up the strength to fight with her. Like Kate had said, he hadn’t enough energy left. ‘Kíli is dead.’

To his surprise there was no shock, no anger on her face. The only thing he saw was resignation. She’d already known. ‘Dwalin told me,’ she confirmed. ‘Thought it’d be better if it came from him, probably because I wouldn’t pester you about it.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘And I don’t even have the energy left to shout and cry and throw a tantrum.’ Her hand found his, and she squeezed it. Thorin assumed that she meant to squeeze, though. He hardly felt the pressure she applied. ‘You need to sleep,’ she reminded him. ‘And to be honest, so do I. Let’s deal with all of this tomorrow.’

It was the most sensible thing he’d heard for a long time. A small voice in the back of his head told him that he could not afford to rest while yet, that there were people out there who needed him, but for just this once his body was stronger than his mind.

‘Stay.’ He meant that as a request, but it came out as a command.

Kate merely snorted. ‘Does it look like I’m actually capable of walking anywhere?’ It was feeble, but an attempt at their banter all the same, a way to lighten the mood in a situation that did not deserve lighting up at all. But that was how they always coped, wasn’t it? They avoided the heavy topics if only they could, dancing around them.

But they would face it all the next morning, Thorin promised himself as he laid down and budged over a bit to make room for Kate. And then he would ask her what it was that she wasn’t telling him. For now, he welcomed sleep with open arms.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _How did it ever come to this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that all came out well. Next chapter they’ll both be a bit more awake and ready to have discussions than they were in this one, promise.  
> Please review?


	86. Breaking News

_Depressing much, my dears? Well, it was. There really is no other way to paint the situation other than depressing. That’s the thing about battles, you see. In the leading up to them, there’s always excitement, tension, fear. But it’s manageable, because you’re staying busy, keeping yourself occupied. You keep telling yourself that there are still plenty of possibilities. Yes, the worst can happen, but it hasn’t happened yet and so it can be averted. There’s always a chance that it may all be all right in the end. Strange as that might sound, there’s hope too._

_During the battle itself there really wasn’t all that much time for me to get worried at all. Well, I suppose there was plenty of time to get worried about a lot of things, but not for my loved ones’ sakes. Selfish though that may be, I was mostly concerned for my own survival. I simply did not have the time to worry or even think about any of the others. And even then, during a battle, anything can happen. After all, there’s still fighting, a lot of people actively trying to do something. The action is still in progress. Who’s to know what the outcome will be? And so the ones being left behind to wait, they keep on hoping and praying for their loved ones to come out unharmed or, if not that, at least alive, because as long as there’s life, there’s hope. Death is final._

_No, in truth, I think it’s the aftermath of these events that makes the biggest impacts, that is the hardest to bear. You see, my dears, when the battle is over, everything is done. Nothing can be changed. The dead are dead and no amount of hope or prayer can ever bring them back. You’re just left to deal with the consequences._

_That, at least, is how I experienced the Battle of the Five Armies. And even then I felt too exhausted to really think about it on the night itself. Seeing Ori like that was hard, maybe even harder than hearing that Kíli had died, at least when I first heard the news. Oh, I know that sounds pretty horrible of me, but please let me explain._

_I had known that there was every chance that Kíli would not live out the battle as everyone hoped he would. Maybe that is why I didn’t give a very strong reaction when Dwalin imparted the news on me. And maybe my head was still reeling from the shock of seeing Ori in such a way that I couldn’t respond correctly to more bad news. In the end, how much can one person take before they go numb and close themselves off to the world? I think I may have done that then, and I am really none too proud of it._

_What I really needed was sleep. Strange how that is one of those things that can only occur to you when you got what you needed and you realise just how much you indeed needed it. I needed that time, a time to sleep without having the knowledge of imminent danger hanging over my head like a sword of Damocles – and since you lot never grew up where I grew up you don’t know who Damocles is, but I think you get the gist of it – like it had done for so, so long. Things were far from all right, we weren’t even anywhere near it and wouldn’t be for some time to come, but the worst was behind us. And that was such a relief, I can barely describe it._

_Of course that did mean that all those unresolved issues would still be there come morning…_

 

Safe. That was the first impression that made it through the haze that surrounded her mind when sleep slowly began to retreat at last. Safe. Warm. Protected. Home. Kate smiled, only half-awake and with no wish to re-join the waking world any time in the near future. Her mind was blessedly blank otherwise and for just this once she had no intention of working out exactly where she was, or to go over her mental check-list of things that needed doing today. For just this once she was perfectly content to remain where she was.

The air was cold outside her little cocoon of warmth, something she only became aware of because the tip of her nose was a bit cool. It didn’t seem to matter much, not to her anyway. Maybe she was still just too sleepy to even contemplate where she was and what was happening.

But it was light outside, real light, proper sunlight. It was getting into the tent – oh yes, she was lying on a cot in a tent – from every opening it could find, and Kate had always responded to it, even when she really didn’t feel like waking up yet. She certainly didn’t feel like dealing with all the things that needed to be dealt with, even if she was trying her hardest not to think about that.

Of course it didn’t work like that. The more she resolved not to think about what had happened the previous day, the more the memories began to seep through the haze of sleepiness until they were so strong they chased away the last remnants of sleep, leaving her wide awake. The memories came rushing back, the fear, the fighting, the loss. In hindsight she thought she had been far too cold and unfeeling about the news that Kíli was dead and how could she have been like that?

Kíli was dead. The news only now really started to make an impact, leaving her in shock, fighting a shivering that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature. Kíli had died. According to Dwalin, Fíli lived and had barely more than a scratch on him, which should be a relief. It was a relief, but not as big a relief as it might have been. Two out of three saved. It should be counted a success. It didn’t feel like one.

She could still hear his last words to her ringing in her ears. _Of course we do expect you to be able to teach us our history when we come back. With such a book at your disposal…_ They had been bantering about the book Ori had given her to pass the time, not even saying goodbye or good luck. No, instead she had teased him right back, joking about how he clearly didn’t have a clue how long a battle lasted if he expected to be back for lunch. For goodness sake, she had even gone on about fixing lunch for him and telling him he’d better be there to eat it. She had been such a bloody fool.

And now he was dead, nothing she could do to change that. She couldn’t go back either to change what had already been done. The past had happened, and those left behind would have to learn how to live with the consequences, difficult though that may be. Very difficult, Kate imagined. Deep down she knew that there was nothing in heaven or on earth that she might have done that could have saved him. Well, she could have chained him to some column or other and keep him safe like that, but Kíli would have hated her for that, and rightly so. It was cowardly to try and stay out of a fight, but there was always the risk of dying if he did go out. She reckoned he had known that. And he hadn’t seemed afraid when she saw him last.

It would be worse for Thorin. She had seen the haunted look in his eyes last night, the look of someone who had lost so many things that mattered to him. Kíli mattered very much to him, Kate knew that. And he had thought he had lost Kíli before, after the Mirkwood inferno. She had seen first-hand what that had done to him. She had hoped she would never ever see that again. It turned out that her wish had not been granting. Not that she’d ever had much luck in the wishing department to begin with.

She became aware of some warm presence at her back. There was a very familiar arm wrapped around her waist, securing her against her husband-to-be. It was reassuring, yet at the same time it meant that the moment he woke she would have to face his grief as well as her own, all the while knowing that she had something she should tell him sooner rather than later. And she had no idea how she would handle that situation. She was pregnant. That in itself still felt so surreal. But how was she supposed to break this news to Thorin while he was still in mourning? But it wasn’t as if she could put this off for any longer either. Apparently all the elves knew from simply looking at her, and it would be best to save them all some embarrassment by telling him herself before some elf decided to comment on it, assuming that Thorin already knew.

Speaking of the devil. ‘You are awake,’ his voice commented.

 _Shit_. She must have been lying too still, which must have given it away. ‘So are you.’ She refrained from adding a good morning to her words. This was never going to be a good morning by any stretch of the imagination, and she doubted it was still before noon anyway.

Kate turned around, wincing when her leg thoroughly protested the movement. It wasn’t all that deep a cut, Tauriel had said, and she had worked her magic on it best she could, but it was still stinging. It didn’t exactly help now that the healing process had begun it was also itching. Pain was doable, but the itch was bound to start driving her crazy within the day if all the other important issues didn’t take care of that bit long before that.

Of course he just had to notice. ‘Are you well?’

‘Right as rain in about a week or so,’ she reported. Physically at least. Mentally was another thing entirely. But there was no need to tell him that, not with all the other things going on at the moment.

And for the first time in quite a long time, she wished for home. She had missed her family for months, had wished to see them again, but it hadn’t actually been a fierce wish to be out of this world and back into her own. Now she craved the feeling of her mother’s embrace and her assurances that all would be well, even though she could hardly see beyond her own emotions, her own panic. Good heavens, she’d even like to hear Jacko mocking her for not thinking rationally at the moment. At least that’d give her a good excuse to slap someone.

‘How about you?’ she asked in an attempt to distract the attention from herself. ‘Your neck?’

‘Right as rain in about a week or so,’ he parroted her.

Kate was not in the appreciating mood. ‘And your knee?’

Judging by the look on his face that was not something he really liked to talk about, quite possibly because that would not be as easy to fix. And she had suspected something like that, not that she would say that. It looked bad, and he had already had a dragon falling on it. That knee had already been a weakness, and Thorin Oakenshield detested weakness, especially his own, because he could not afford it. Soon enough there would be demanding elves to deal with, and that pathetic excuse of a Master if he had made it through the battle alive. A small part of Kate hoped that he hadn’t, but that was not the kind of thing she could really think. Not very queenly and certainly not very mature of her.

‘Just how bad?’ she asked. Reading Thorin had always been something of a challenge, but today he was not making it very easy on her. _Back on the tightrope again, Andrews_. Thorin wasn’t someone who actually talked about the things that bothered him, and in his current state he was just as likely to draw her near for comfort as he was to push her away because he thought he was better suited to deal with it all alone.

Part of Kate wished he would do the latter, even if she felt extremely guilty about it. As much as she longed for his embrace to melt into, for his voice telling her that they would get through this one way or the other, she also knew he wasn’t capable of offering comfort when he was so deeply hurt. And with the way things were, she couldn’t handle his grief added on top of hers. She wouldn’t be any good to him, or to anyone else for that matter. Not when she only wanted to cry her frustrations to the skies and wish all the world away until she was ready to deal with everything. She was at a point that she didn’t think she’d ever be truly ready.

Thorin’s silence spoke volumes.

‘ _That_ bad,’ she concluded.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, would it kill him to talk? She was in no mood to play the guessing game with him. There were too many things distracting her. Ori, Kíli, an unborn child she could hardly believe to be real, possible consequences of the battle she didn’t know about yet, dealing with elves and men. All those things, in no particular order, were running through her head, and it would just be so much easier to leave until she had her bearings, until her life had resumed some manner of order. If only she had a clear purpose, something to do, something to focus on. Now she was cut loose, drifting, with nowhere to be. It didn’t agree with her one bit.

Finally he deemed it a good idea to speak. ‘That bad,’ he confirmed.

They were silent for a while, with neither knowing what to say. Kate had the unpleasant suspicion that Thorin was retreating deep in his own thoughts, assigning blame for every single thing that had gone wrong yesterday and heaping it all on his own doorstep. Maybe he wasn’t yet quite ready to take full responsibility for the fact that the Battle of the Five Armies had happened in the first place, but he was getting there.

And she really couldn’t let him do that. She had sworn. Well, she had sworn to keep him from succumbing to gold lust by all means necessary, even if it meant insulting him until she ran out of breath to insult him with. This was nowhere near gold lust, but it had something in common with it; both things were in his mind. And Kate Andrews had unfortunately discovered a rather effective way of getting through to him when he was doing that retreating into his own mind thing, but it was bound not to be pretty.

‘Don’t you dare,’ she warned him. ‘Don’t you dare sit here wallowing in self-pity.’ _I can’t take it. I just can’t. Not now. Not yet_. She untangled herself from his embrace and sat up. Distance. She needed distance. Having an argument while being so physically close to one another might not be the best of ideas. Not that she wanted to have an argument right now. She really only wanted someone to hold her, someone who didn’t have a whole load of burdens on their shoulders.

Something sparked in Thorin’s eyes. ‘I was not.’ Oh, that had definitely been the wrong thing to say, probably because it was true and he didn’t want to hear it.

 _What am I even doing?_ The last thing she wanted was to fight, but it seemed to happen without her having any real control over it. Maybe it was to keep the pain at bay. Anger had always been her preferred approach to deal with things she couldn’t bear to think about, but to hurt Thorin in the process, that was never her intent.

‘Yes, you were,’ she said forcefully. ‘And don’t you dare. We can’t change the past. It happened. There’s the future to worry about.’ _You might want to start applying that old saying to yourself first, girl. You know the one, the one about practising what you preach_. And as long as she didn’t do that, her words were just empty, devoid of meaning, and they both knew that.

Thorin ignored what she had been saying. ‘What of Ori?’ he demanded. ‘How is he?’

‘He will be fine,’ she echoed the words of the healer, the only ones she had even heard. There had been more words, but they hadn’t gotten through to her. ‘He will be fine.’

  
It sounded like the lie that it was. He had lost a _hand_. His life was never ever going to be the same again. Nothing about this was even remotely _fine_. Thorin had indicated having been there when it happened, and had apparently claimed the blame for Ori’s injury as his own as well. And Kate really wanted to assign blame to someone, but he made it bloody hard on her to do so since he himself had been so injured and was clearly blaming himself worse than she ever could.

‘He will be fine,’ Thorin repeated. Evidently he believed as much of that sentence as she did.

‘He will,’ she said. If only she repeated that sentence long enough to herself, she might will it to be true. Oh, how wonderful would it be if the world really worked like that.  
They were silent for a while again. Kate tried to avoid looking at him, but found that she couldn’t do that for very long. She felt more than that she saw that he was watching her. He didn’t talk to her though, and it unnerved her, even though she knew full well that Thorin just didn’t talk when he felt strongly about something. It wasn’t who he was, and Kate was hardly one to bare her soul in a hurry either, not even to the man she planned on marrying.

She tried to look at anything but him, trying to bite back tears. She’d be hard-pressed to even name where exactly they were coming from. Grief, certainly. She was grieving for what could have been, wondering how things might have been different if she had just said this or had done that. But the world didn’t work that way.

No, it was more a deep-rooted fear of the future that had her trembling like a leaf in a storm. Now that the battle was over, all those issues that had led to the siege were still there. Soon enough everyone would remember that, and then where would they be? And then they had to explain Nói’s treason to Dáin, another thing she dreaded for quite a number of reasons. And then there was this child. And she could not even begin to think of how she would tell Thorin. And after that, a lot of other people needed to be told, and their reaction was something Kate could only guess at. And she didn’t want to guess at it, because it scared her beyond belief. At the same time she felt badly for even thinking about those things already when there were so many dead to be mourned, when there were so many to be remembered, to be concerned about. It felt harsh and unfeeling to be already thinking about the future. She felt so many things, and hardly any of them positive, that she felt like she was close to bursting, exploding and falling apart, not sure how she would ever put herself back together. _Nowhere near a fanfiction heroine now, are you, Andrews?_

Maybe Thorin sensed that. Maybe he was feeling just as lost as she was. Kate didn’t know, because he didn’t actually tell her. Words were never their forte, not when it came to feelings, even though they were her strength when there was an argument to be had. There was only just the one language that helped them express what was in their hearts and minds: actions.

And this time it was Thorin who chose to be the most mature one about the situation. He reached up to her, and Kate pretended she didn’t see him wince when he pulled his stitches, and pulled her down next to him, holding her like his very life depended on it. And at first she didn’t want that. He needed someone who could be strong for him, not someone who was just minutes away from breaking down herself.

She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but her attempts were doomed to fail; Thorin was much stronger than she was, always had been, always would be. And so she gave up the struggle, letting him hold her and finding that before long she was clinging to him as if she would die the moment she let go herself. And that was unexpected. She hadn’t expected that this was even what she needed, but it turned out that she did. They were both hurting, that much was still true, but maybe that was why they needed each other. Because they _understood_ , even if they were hurting over different things. It was a strange sensation, not one that she was used to at all, but it felt _right_.

In the end she couldn’t even say how long it all lasted. It was one of those moments that seemed to exist outside of time itself. It was just the two of them in a tent while outside the world kept on turning. There were no words, and there weren’t any tears either.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Kate cursed herself for a fool when she was eventually the one to break the silence. They had been here for quite a long time and she had arrived at a point that she was all but convinced they could stay here like this forever and shut the world out until it ended. That was hardly an option, she knew, but she liked to imagine that it was. But they needed their time to grieve and that was what they had been doing, albeit in their very own way that not a great many people would be able to comprehend. Elves in particular would find it difficult, but that would be because they had this annoying habit to talk about everything until they had analysed every last detail. And they were nothing like that.

‘I know.’ It sounded like he meant it, which was something. But it sounded like he knew it with his mind; he didn’t feel like it yet. Well, that’d be a case for Pot, Kettle and Black, because Kate would have to plead guilty there as well. But it was a start. Better than nothing.

‘So do I.’

It was hard to talk today. The words wouldn’t come like they normally did. It was as if there was some sort of blockade in her mind that prevented her from speaking, while there was so much that needed to be said. But not yet. And she wouldn’t know how to anyway.

So Thorin took care of it for her. ‘You didn’t tell me everything last night,’ he observed and good grief, when _had_ he become so observant? He must have realised that she was very carefully editing something out, something she very much didn’t want to discuss, because the moment they did, it would become real and it would change everything in ways that she had no control over. And that was frightening.

‘We were too tired to talk,’ she pointed out. She still was. It wasn’t exhaustion of the body, but of the mind. ‘Can we not? Not yet?’

How would she even begin to tell? Oh, the words themselves were simple enough, she supposed, so that was not the problem. But the timing was all wrong. How could she tell him he was going to be a father when he had just lost someone who had been almost like a son to him? Somewhere in her mind the idea existed that telling such news ought to be a joyous occasion and this was the farthest away from joyous anyone could get. No, not yet.

She could feel him stiffen and even without looking at his face she could tell that he didn’t like what she was doing. It was like before, when she had kept some things from him and he had started to distrust her because he didn’t know what she was keeping from him. It had almost destroyed them then. ‘You are keeping secrets.’

And she had vowed that would never happen again. Not ever. She didn’t want to lose his trust again, so if it came down to a straight choice between telling him what she didn’t want to tell him, or losing him all over again – and it seemed that was the choice now put before her – it wasn’t all that difficult to decide.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know how to tell you. It hardly seems the right time.’ And with all the things going on, there was unlikely to be a right time in the coming months. But she had run out of time to think of a good way to tell him. She’d be lucky if she managed to keep this particular secret for even as much as a minute from now on.

‘Tell me.’ It was a straight command. Not that Kate was in the habit of heeding his orders. In fact, she was famous for blatantly ignoring him when that felt like the best option to her. But she heard the anxiety underneath, the need to be told.

And in turn, if she was the one being shut out, then she would suspect that something far worse was going on than was actually the case. She’d be worried out of her mind. Not that Thorin was particularly prone to fretting over other people – Dori took care of that job quite effectively for all of the company, thank you very much – but he had developed something of a habit of worrying about her.

And maybe it was easier because she wasn’t looking at him directly, so she wouldn’t see it if his reaction to her news was not as positive as she was hoping for it to be. She took a deep breath and spilled the beans.

‘I’m pregnant.’

***

‘I’m sorry?’

For a moment Thorin didn’t think his hearing was working properly. It could very well be that Kate’s voice had been muffled because her face was still pressed against his chest. In their current position he could not even see her expression. All he could see were those red curls, effectively blocking his view of her face.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she repeated, making it painfully obvious that she had in fact been saying what he thought she had been saying.

But it didn’t make an ounce of sense. ‘That is impossible.’ The words had left his mouth before he had taken his time to think about them and he realised that they may hurt her.  
It didn’t make them any less true, painful though they may be. This didn’t happen. They had been over this not all that long ago, in front of the side door, huddling together to banish the cold. They were too different. It should not be possible.

But it was. And he didn’t think for even a second that the child Kate was carrying would be from another. She was not unfaithful. It had taken them long enough to get to where they were in their relationship, she would not desert him or betray his trust like that. There really was only one explanation, but it left him baffled. Children from Mahal and Ilúvatar, they had never been together before, had they? So really there was no way that they could have been certain, but neither of them had believed that there was even the slightest possibility. This news therefore took him completely by surprise.

Kate apparently misinterpreted his disbelief. She sat up abruptly and he let go of her, too startled by the sudden movement to protest in time. ‘Glad to hear you’re taking it so well,’ she commented. He knew that tone; she was headed right for one of her moods.

‘I am surprised to hear it,’ he confessed. That was the truth of it. It was not something he could even begin to understand. His mind had been on many things, but not on that, and how could it have been? He was mourning his loss, as was only right after this horrid battle. He had not anticipated this.

‘Yeah, well, so was I.’ She had her arms wrapped around her torso, almost as if she was protecting herself from some attack that Thorin could not perceive. ‘Tauriel wasn’t exactly subtle about it. Assumed that I had known already. She was surprised to find that I hadn’t known before she dropped that bomb on me.’ She grimaced. ‘Oh, and you’ll love this. Apparently all the elves have known for ages, just by looking at me.’ She got up and walked over to the makeshift table on the other side of the tent to pour them both something to drink just as Thorin stretched out his arms to pull her back.

His reflexes clearly were not what they had been before the battle, but he had been injured, so it could be forgiven, he believed. And he had just heard something that he had not expected, not if he had lived to be a thousand. And he didn’t know what to feel. There was so much of his heart and mind that was preoccupied with the grief that it was hard to think of other things. He should be thinking about other things, though, he knew, and sooner rather than later too. He was still the King under the Mountain. There was hardly any time for mourning. He was lucky to have been given as much respite as he had. It would not last much longer.

And he could have done that. He had done it before. After the Battle of Azanulbizar he had pulled himself together to lead his people to the Ered Luin to create a new settlement – he had been very reluctant to use the word home, because the Blue Mountains had never been that for him; it had always been Erebor – for them. He had done it then, he could do it now.

Except now everything had suddenly changed. Kate was pregnant. And at the same time that changed nothing. His duty was still out there waiting for him, but everything had changed for him. In the midst of death and destruction, there was suddenly life, new life, new life that he had never even believed possible. It was nothing short of a miracle and he could not even begin to wrap his head around it.

'You are with child,’ he said, more to make sure that he had not imagined her saying this.

She turned around, mug and jug still in hand. ‘Yes, I believe I just said that.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘It hardly seems the time to discuss such things, but you asked, so I figured I might as well tell you before one of the elves started talking to you about it and you didn’t have a clue as to what they were on about.’

This made Thorin frown. ‘Did you think I would not welcome such news?’ he asked. By now he knew her well enough to know that there had to be some reason behind her intention not to tell him. She had been evasive about it last night, and had as good as admitted just now that she’d had no intention of telling him just yet until he had all but forced her to.

Kate snorted. ‘How could this possibly be the right time for any of this?’ she asked.

She may have mentioned the question rhetorically, but he answered her all the same. ‘Because it is life,’ he said. Wonderful and unexpected life. It didn’t do anything to take the edge off the pain he felt over Kíli’s loss, nothing to dull the ache in his chest, but what it did do was make the world seem a bit less dark. He could have asked for no greater gift.

‘In the midst of death and injury,’ Kate countered, leading Thorin to believe that she clearly didn’t share the sentiment, not yet at least. ‘Never mind what everyone is going to say about this. I really couldn’t care less about Thranduil’s opinion or of that of his new best friend Lord Erland, but your people?’

‘Our people,’ he corrected. She was believed to be the Queen under the Mountain already. They were hers now as much as they were his.

Kate shrugged, back still turned to him. ‘Whatever.’ She brushed it off before picking up where she left off. ‘What on earth are they going to think of this? Given some of their reactions before the battle…’

Thorin was no mind reader, but he could pinpoint exactly what she was thinking about right now. Nói had done his damage, he supposed, and it made him angry. _What dwarf in his senses would ever be as foolish as to marry a woman of Men? You are a fool if you think our people will accept you as their queen, Kate. You do not stand a chance._ He remembered those words as well as she probably did.

The worst thing was that there was truth in those words, much as Thorin would love to deny it and have his denial be true. No, not everyone would accept her, certainly not immediately, and a child could work both ways. People might accept her because of it, but others might resent her for tainting the line of Durin with mannish blood. And if he knew her at all, she had been thinking about this from the moment she had heard Tauriel tell her the news.

‘We will handle that,’ he said. One way or another. Balin had told him not all that long ago that he would have earned the right to make some controversial decisions after Erebor had been reclaimed, and he could only hope that was true. These recent developments would certainly put Balin’s theory to the test. He’d be pushing his luck to the very limits, he’d known that, but he had been determined to do whatever was necessary. He still was. But when he had decided that a future with Kate Andrews was what he would pursue, he had believed that he would have more time, time enough to take matters slowly. Now that there was a child coming, he would not have that luxury.

It didn’t dampen his gladness at her news. Joy and grief now warred within him, fighting for dominance, but he felt the two all at once and neither gained the upper hand. But yes, the world was less dark than it had been a few minutes ago.

‘You sound optimistic,’ she observed, turning back to hand him one of the mugs. Thorin had worked himself up into a sitting position, which made it easier to drink. He’d love to stand on his own two feet, but that would be most unwise in his current condition.

‘You do not,’ he countered.

‘I just can’t find it in myself to rejoice,’ she admitted. ‘Not yet. It’s all so bloody confusing. I still can’t quite believe that I am going to be a mother to begin with. It feels… it feels surreal, like this is not really happening to me, even though I know with my mind that it is.’

She was right there. It was surreal. Most dwarves who married, married when they were about a century younger than Thorin was now. If they were destined to have children, they would have the first usually within twenty years of their wedding, but not very soon after. This was unconventional in every single way imaginable. Maybe that was why it was even more of a miracle in Thorin’s eyes.

‘It is happening,’ he pointed out.

Kate snorted, a feeble smile on her face. ‘Way to state the obvious. That usually isn’t your job.’

She carefully refrained from saying whose job it was. No, had been. Kíli had always been the one to spell out what was plain for everyone to see. But he was gone, and even though Kate had not said his name, he felt a stab of pain. Death and life on the same day. It was a lot to handle, and somewhere deep down he understood why Kate had thought it better to let him grieve first. These two emotions were very much at odds with one another.

‘Kíli did that,’ he spoke softly. He would not forget him, not one single detail.

‘He was amazing,’ Kate said, biting her lip. ‘Before he left, he told me that he fully expected me to be able to lecture him on his own history. I said that he had either a faulty perception of how long battles lasted or the speed with which I read.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He expected to be home for lunch.’

And now he never would be home. His body would; Thorin would move heaven and earth to make sure that Kíli’s final resting place would be where all royalty was buried, but he didn’t think that would be much of a fight. He _had_ been royalty, even though he had never truly lived like it. He had been running wild, loving life in the sun, not a “proper dwarf” by the standards of the people of the Iron Hills. Beloved sister-son, Dragonslayer, light in darkness. Kíli had been all of those things, and so much more. And now he was gone.

And here was Kate, telling him that there would be a child to cherish before a year had passed. It were two things that should not ever be together on the same day, but it happened. And he had more or less asked to hear it. But he had been anticipating more bad news. He had not believed it possible to hear any good. He had been proven wrong.

‘I am sorry,’ Kate muttered when he took too long in answering her. ‘You should have said you didn’t want to talk about it.’

Truth was that he was not even certain what he wanted. ‘It matters not.’

‘He mattered to you,’ she pointed out, rather unnecessarily. Now she was stating the obvious, but Thorin did not call her out on it. ‘He mattered to me to. Not that I’m saying that could possibly compare, but…’ She trailed off. ‘Sorry, I really have the worst timing in the history of Middle Earth.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ he ordered her. ‘Don’t. Your news is welcome news.’ It was the thing that had snapped him out of his apathy, so how could he be angry? How could Kate even have believed that he would be? It did not make any sense to him.

‘Glad to hear it,’ she said. She seemed to be, and she appeared to be relieved as well, making Thorin believe that she had not been sure her pregnancy would be well-received. And that did make him wonder. Every child was a blessing from the Maker. How could she possibly believe he would not be pleased, even with everything that was going on at the moment?

‘You did not believe I would be glad?’ he questioned.

Kate took a deep breath. ‘At this point I am not even sure what I am supposed to be thinking. I’d rather hoped a good night’s sleep would set me to rights, but it doesn’t appear to have worked at all.’ She threw her hands in the air to emphasise her point. ‘And I just don’t know what to do. I mean, has this ever even happened before?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes, it has.’

Both of them swivelled their heads around to look at the owner of the voice that had spoken those words. Thorin reckoned that he should not even have been surprised to find that it was Elvaethor who had eavesdropped on a conversation not meant for his ears; the elf had a very nasty habit of hanging around places he had no reason to be.

Kate sent him one of her infamous glares. ‘You know why a private conversation is called private?’ she snapped. Thorin had the idea that she had merely been waiting for a good opportunity to lash out at someone. Elvaethor might as well have been volunteering for target by dropping in on them like he had.

Elvaethor smiled. ‘My apologies,’ he said, wholly unapologetic.

‘Take that grin off your face, say that again and I might even believe you,’ Kate commented. Thorin rather thought he wouldn’t even believe him if that happened. Elves were rather skilled at pretence. ‘What are you even doing here?’

‘I am a skilled healer,’ Elvaethor pointed out. ‘I am here to do my job. I believe you trust me with your husband’s health?’

Kate sent him a glare that should have killed him instantly. ‘You’re a sneaky bastard, that’s what you are.’

Elvaethor’s eyebrows were up at his hairline. ‘I do not see what could have led you to believe that my parents conceived me out of wedlock, Queen Kate.’

Had the situation not what it had been, then Thorin would have laughed. He himself had made the mistake of taking Kate’s insult literal the first time, and Elvaethor clearly had not heard it before, or he would have known that she did not mean it in that way. At the same time it was ironic, because while people may believe him to be married to Kate, he was not, not yet at least, and this child was indeed conceived out of wedlock.

No one could ever know that was the case.

The realisation crashed down on him. The situation would be difficult enough without another complication added to the mix. He would need to lie. And Thorin hated lies and deceit. They were more elvish traits than they were dwarves’. But if he did not want to cause chaos and riots – and he had seen enough of chaos to last him a lifetime – then he needed to resort to such things.

‘What did you mean, that this had happened before?’ he demanded, interrupting Kate’s explanation that she had not meant her comment all that literally, that it was merely a turn of phrase and nothing else.

‘You do not know of the legend?’ Elvaethor asked. He looked genuinely surprised, but that hardly meant anything with him.

Apparently Kate hated the evasiveness as much as Thorin did. ‘Stop trying my patience, Elvaethor,’ she warned him. ‘Or so help me, you’ll not be the healer, you’ll need one. Now stop messing around. Just tell us already.’

The elf apparently thought it better to heed her words. ‘The Men have a story,’ he began. ‘About one of their own, a young woman by the name of Inga, who fell in love with a stone mason from Durin’s Folk when they first settled under the Mountain, during the reign of Thráin I.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Feel free to save the story-telling for another time. The summarised version will do just fine for now.’ Her well of patience had well and truly run dry, Thorin observed.

‘Very well,’ Elvaethor conceded, but he looked rather disappointed. Given the elves’ love of words, Thorin was hardly surprised at the fact. ‘It is said that the dwarf, Dari, eloped with her when their courtship was condemned by both their peoples. They lived together for a good many years and did indeed have a couple of children before Inga died in childbirth.’

‘Oh, this makes me feel so very positive about the future,’ Kate muttered under her breath. She seemed paler than she had been before.

‘Dari is said to have created the most beautiful marble statue to mark her grave before he ended his own life,’ Elvaethor continued as if he had not heard Kate’s comment. ‘Only after their deaths did Inga’s people come to love their tale. Their descendants are said to live in the area to the present day.’

‘A story would claim such a thing,’ Kate remarked. She didn’t seem convinced. ‘Are you just making this up? Because if you are, I swear…’

‘He is not.’ Thorin had not thought about speaking, but when he checked, he had. ‘I rather assume that he was there to see it.’

That infuriating half-smile confirmed the theory. ‘Indeed I was. I personally knew Dari. You remind me of him in a great many ways.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Next you’ll be telling me I am resembling that Inga woman.’ Clearly she was still not entirely believing the story. It had to be a first: Thorin taking Elvaethor’s words as the truth while she was still sceptic. Usually it was the other way around.

‘Not at all,’ the elf said calmly. ‘Inga was a very even-tempered woman, very shy. She did not speak much.’

The complete opposite of Kate. It didn’t need to be said. Everyone understood the message, Kate herself included. ‘I _really_ hope you meant that as a compliment.’

It was strange to hear, Thorin observed, strange to hear that they were not the first to ever have had a relationship despite the fact that they belonged to different races. It would have been good to know this tale before, because it may have told them about the possibility of offspring. But he also knew now why he had never heard of it. Durin’s Folk had broken all ties with Dari when he made his choice. That hardly boded well for Kate and him.

 _We are not yet done fighting_. He had known that before. He had known that this would never be easy, that there would always be people who harboured similar sentiments as Nói. To hear that it had happened before and to know now that it had not been accepted then, that was hardly the news he needed to hear on a day like today. _Still doomed to fight to the end of our days then_ , Kate had said. He now doubted they would ever stop, no matter what course they chose.

Thorin only realised that his mind had begun to wander when the tent flap was flung back and Dwalin strode in, followed closely by Dáin. The first was a welcome sight, the second not so much. Even though Dáin had answered the call when Thorin had sent him ravens, he found it impossible to forget that he had not come the first time he had been called on. He wasn’t sure if he could trust him after all that had transpired.

‘Dwalin, Dáin,’ he acknowledged, trying to get out of bed. His leg hurt, but he could not afford to be lying down. And with no Óin available to tell him to rest – or he would tie him down to the bed, Mahal be his witness – he could get out. There was work to be done.

‘What is it?’ Kate asked. From one moment to the next she had changed into the queen he had seen glimpses of every now and then, a commanding presence, even in the same clothes she had worn in the fight the day before and her hair sticking out at all sides.

Dwalin was the first to take the word, even though he should have left the talking to Dáin first. But Thorin’s old friend had never cared much for decorum. ‘They’ve found Balin.’ _It is bad news_ went unspoken. Thorin could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes.

Dáin appeared irritated. ‘There are matters that need your urgent attention,’ he informed Thorin. ‘I would not disturb you unless absolutely necessary.’ He hadn’t even looked at Kate twice. It should not bother him the way it did. He knew that his people were unlikely to take well to her, not so soon. And they would certainly not see her as a leader. It was not something he could expect of them, yet he did.

He knew where his priorities should be: with his people. He was the King under the Mountain, and he should act like it now that he had his Mountain back. But Balin was his oldest friend. All his life he had put his people first, never himself. If anything, he had earned the right to make a decision that was in his own interest, not in anyone else’s. But the time was critical; so much had to be done. His people needed a leader.

‘Go.’ It was Kate who spoke. ‘Go to Balin.’

‘My lady, with all due respect…’ Dáin began to protest.

‘I am his wife,’ Kate countered, eyes blazing, daring him to contradict her. ‘I believe I am more than qualified.’

Thorin didn’t know what to say, and he wasn’t often caught speechless. He trusted her, that was not the problem. She had done well in the negotiations, in circumstances when it wasn’t possible to do it right. But she was not strictly speaking a queen yet, even though very few were aware of that, and now he knew they could not know the truth either. But Dáin was about to protest again, and that decided him. ‘She speaks with my voice,’ he told his kinsman, voice as icy as he could manage. ‘Obey her as you would me.’

It was unorthodox, it was unheard of. But Dáin had better get used to it; it was also the future.

* * *

 

 From Kate’s notes: _Something tells me this was not my brightest idea to date._


	87. Dealing With Dwarves

_Dealing with Dwarves. That should by all rights be a manual for future Queens under the Mountain. Not that I imagine there will be many non-dwarvish Queens under the Mountain after me, but you never know. I may have set a precedent._

_Having said that, this is not a job I’d recommend to anyone who isn’t a dwarf. You see, one of the first things you should know about dwarves, the “proper” kind of dwarves, that make up most of the dwarvish population, is that they keep themselves to themselves. They don’t particularly like outsiders, not even when they are mere visitors or merchants to trade with. So, bearing that in mind, they certainly didn’t like the idea of a woman of Men as their queen, a woman of Men with the right to boss them about._

_Not that I was planning on bossing anyone about. God knows I was dead scared about taking charge. So, why do it? Well, the answer to that is rather simple. I’d thrown myself into it, so that Thorin could go to Balin. I didn’t know what had happened to him exactly, but Dwalin was difficult to shock, very difficult to shock, and he had definitely looked out of sorts to me. So what else was there to be done? With Balin down and Thorin off to see him, that left me to take charge of the dwarvish portion of the clean-up operation after the battle._

_At least that was something I could do. Heaven help me if I had no organisational skills whatsoever, but fortunately those were part of my skill set. Believe me, dealing with recalcitrant dwarves is difficult enough when you’re competent. The only thing you’ll have to deal with then is trying to break through their protests long enough to get some work done. It’s worse when you don’t have a clue as to what you’re doing._

_I think that was the day I realised, really truly realised, what I was going to have to do for the rest of my life. When Thorin and I finally got to stopping to fight our feelings, I may have temporarily been tricked into thinking I would be done fighting for the rest of my life. And that was a mistake, because I was not. If anything, the fight had just begun. But it weren’t exactly feelings I was destined to battle, but rather the prejudices of Durin’s Folk. Well, and those of the rest of the world, but I am not confronted with them on a near daily basis. And Mahal be praised for that._

_So, why go through with it now? Sometimes it would be so much easier to leave the ruling to Thorin and concern myself with other business. And you see, my dears, that’s why I don’t. It would be easier to be sure, but it would also be too much like running away, running away and giving up. And I am quite done with that. And then, if I did that, where would that leave me? What would be the point of me being there? I’ve never been the type to sit back and let others do the job. I’d go mad. And, deny it though he might, I know for a fact that your father appreciates it. We help each other from losing our temper in public. There have been a few near misses in the past and there will be a couple more in the future beyond the shadow of a doubt, but we help each other through it, because believe you me, ruling is in no way easy._

_Whoever thought that it would be fun to rule should be locked up for telling such a falsehood. No matter what you do, it’s never all right with everyone. There’s always someone who disagrees with your chosen course of action. And that day, I had only just begun to find that out…_

 

It was impossible to get another word out of Dwalin after they’d left the tent. The only thing he had said was that Balin had been found, and that was all. Well, he had gone as far as to admit that he was still alive. It was the still in that sentence that had set off Thorin’s every alarm bell. Still suggested that the healers didn’t think he would be alive for that much longer. Still suggested barely holding on, only living because of the sheer power of his will. It was Balin in a nutshell. Kind old dwarf on the outside, but a tough nut on the inside, never giving up. It was how he had beaten the fever that had crippled him in Esgaroth.

There were times Thorin wished he had even an ounce of that will power his oldest friend seemed to possess, the kind of willpower that could move the mountains itself, that could bring a person back from the brink of death. And he was begging Mahal in silence to just let that be enough to get Balin through this time.

‘Is it true?’ Dwalin asked suddenly. They had been walking in silence for a couple of minutes. Well, Dwalin had been walking, Thorin had made attempts at walking, but he needed both a walking stick and Dwalin’s support to even remain upright.

He quietly cursed the fact that his own body refused to obey his commands before he answered the question. Well, answering was probably not the right word for it. ‘Is what true?’ he demanded.

‘Couldn’t help but overhear the last bit of conversation, and then that elf was chattering on about the tale of Dari and Inga.’ That was about as talkative as Dwalin got on average. He left Thorin to connect the remaining dots.

‘You know the story?’

That was something of a surprise. Thorin himself had loved stories when he was younger, although love stories were not among his favourites in general. But he had heard a fair amount of tales, especially the local ones and the ones dealing with the history of his people. But Elvaethor had said that this tale was not particularly well-known or well-loved among Durin’s Folk. So how come Dwalin knew of its existence in spite of that?

‘My brother is of a scholarly mind-set, if you hadn’t noticed,’ came the reply. There was almost a smile on his face now. ‘He’s told me the story once. Surprised he never told you, not even after.’ _Not even after you and Kate got together_. It went unspoken, but not unheard.

‘Maybe he presumed it known,’ Thorin suggested. He didn’t think so, though. In one of his arguments about the topic of Kate Andrews he was sure he had mentioned the impossibility of a relationship with her, citing that it had never been done before. Balin must have known then Thorin was wrong, but he’d never commented on it, for reasons only known to Mahal and Balin himself.

‘Is it true?’ Dwalin repeated.

‘The tale?’ Thorin asked. ‘Aye, I reckon so.’ He had a fleeting notion of sending Ori down to the Erebor library to find out – because if there was any truth in the legend at all, there must be recordings of it somewhere – before he remembered that Ori was in no fit state to carry out any assignments at the time and for some time to come.

‘The story said they had children,’ Dwalin went on. ‘Is the lass with child?’

People who weren’t all that well acquainted with Dwalin, son of Fundin, very easily made the mistake of assuming that he was all muscle and very little brain. And he sure looked terrifying to their foes. They feared his wrath and his axes. Among orcs, Dwalin, son of Fundin, was a name spoken in frightened whispers, but none of those frightened whispers mentioned his intelligence.

It was not something that became very apparent on the field of the battle, but truth was that both sons of Fundin were exceptionally bright. Balin was the scholar, though, the diplomat, the one who never went anywhere without a quill and a book. Dwalin preferred the call of war over the lure of academics, and he rather concerned himself with strategies than with ancient lore, but that did not mean he had no knowledge of it.

Thorin nodded. ‘She is.’

‘Word has it she fought off a number of orcs at the side door,’ Dwalin remarked.

The cursed side door. Even now he had had trouble figuring out how he could have possibly forgotten about that. ‘It is true.’ She had help, to be sure, and if he could take her word for it, then Bilbo Baggins was once again the reason why everything had ended as well as it had. He already owed the hobbit a greater debt than he could ever repay. Now he also had him to thank for Kate’s life and saving his kingdom. ‘According to the elves, the child is unharmed. Kate didn’t know when she threw herself into the fight.’ She could be so reckless at times. She could have died.

‘Balin will love the news,’ Dwalin observed. _It will give him something to fight for_ , was more than implied. It didn’t escape Thorin’s notice that he himself refrained from comment, though.

‘Aye,’ Thorin agreed.

Yes, Balin would love the news. Kate had once said that she thought Bain had been cheering along the side lines of their relationship for months. There was no doubt that he would love the thought of a child, no matter what the complications it may give. It were thoughts like that that warmed his heart. If only Balin would live long enough. He’d long since outgrown the childish belief that Balin could survive anything, but the hope hadn’t died with the belief.

‘How about you?’ he asked, unable to stop himself from asking. And maybe he also asked because he dare not contemplate Balin’s demise for fear it might come true. ‘Would you welcome the news?’

Dwalin thought about it for a moment. ‘It won’t be easy,’ he said at long last. ‘I have no quarrel with Kate, but those Iron Hills fellows will not accept it just like that.’

And didn’t he know it. There was one conversation he was not looking forward to. ‘How about you?’ he insisted. This situation would be difficult in and out of itself. He’d prefer to face it with his best friend’s support rather than without it.

‘It’s the Maker’s blessing.’

It was a simple answer, but the exact answer Thorin needed to hear. Even now he could not tell just how well Dwalin liked Kate and her presence in Erebor, but he had accepted her, and that was good enough for now. And he was right; every child was a blessing from the Maker. His people needed more children. The last centuries had been hard on Durin’s Folk. Exile and war had taken their toll, had decreased their numbers more than was healthy. He only had to look at the devastation the orcs had left in their wake to know this. Too much loss, too much death. Too much irony as well, to lose one heir and then gain another on the same day. It felt as though he’d made a trade somehow, a cruel trade. One for the other. He knew it was nothing like that, but it felt like it.

‘Thank you.’ The words came from the bottom of his heart. It was as good an approval as he was likely to get. And Dwalin would stand by him until the world was remade, that had not changed, even though everything else had. It was strangely reassuring.

The large tent where they had taken Balin was now right in front of them. Part of Thorin felt reluctant to go in and see for himself what had happened to him. Still alive, was what Dwalin had said. Still. Another part of him was infinitely relieved to reach his destination. There was sweat on his brow from the effort and his breathing was laboured. Óin would say that he was pushing his body harder than it was prepared to go, but how could he sit back when one of his own was so badly injured? As long as he could walk he would always put his people first.

Except that he wasn’t putting his people first. He was putting his friends first. Instead he had sent Kate to look after his people. Well, truth be told, she had sent herself, but the fact remained that she was out there taking charge while he hastened – if such a word could be applied to his movements at all – to Balin’s sickbed. And he knew full well that his people would not appreciate a woman of Men coming in to tell them what to do. He had known that, and he had let her go all the same. He didn’t like what it said about him.

But it was a little late to turn back and change it when he had come so far already, and so he took a deep breath before he entered the tent itself. It was made from dark and heavy fabric, and it was dark inside. Dwarvish make, not elvish. They preferred the light above all things. They would never willingly create such a shelter.

The healer he could see at the far end, tending to several wounded was an elf, though. But another was of Mannish descent and he could even see one of his own race nearby, seeing to the injuries of a man nearby. In this big tent there was room for many more people than there had been in the one Thorin had slept in. But he was the privileged king who had gotten space of his own. These people were not as lucky.

Dwalin wordlessly pulled him along to where he needed to be without stopping to consult with any of the healers present. Balin was situated somewhere near the back. One of the dwarvish healers present was tending to him, but Balin himself was unresponsive. His eyes were closed and he gave off no signs of consciousness, but Thorin could see his chest rising and falling. There was still breath, and therefore there was life. And Balin had survived so much. Surely he would live now.

But that was just empty wishing, and wishes had so seldom come true during Thorin’s life that he knew better than to hope these days. And Balin decidedly looked bad. There really was no other word for it. His skin was pale, death-like pale, and there were bandages around his arms and torso. In what little light there was available he could not be sure if they were blood-stained, and he was quite sure he was in no hurry to find out.

‘My lord, if I may?’ he heard someone say and the next moment he was almost run over by a small dwarf who sent Thorin a glare in the passing. If he had to guess, he’d say it was for being in the way.

‘Careful there,’ Dwalin called after the girl. Yes, she was definitely female, one of the healers that came with Dáin then, since he had never seen her before. ‘That’s your king, lass.’

She stopped and turned around. ‘Aye, he is. Nevertheless this is a place of healing and he was in the way. Begging your pardon, but I’ve got work to be done.’ She was off before either of them could react.

‘If she’d been human, I’d say she was a relative of Kate’s,’ Thorin commented wryly. There was something strangely alike in their manners.

The healer with Balin had gone, and he made his way to the bed, perching on it when there turned out to be a lack of chairs all around. He’d make do. He had done that so many times before that it hardly mattered now, even though his knee had ideas of its own. Right now he could do with one of Óin’s brews to take the edge off the pain, but last he heard Óin was himself badly injured. And there were others in his company he still had heard no news about.

Kate’s brothers were all still alive, that he knew. Ori had lost a hand, Nori had light injuries and Dori had come out in one piece. Fíli was alive and well and so was Dwalin. Now Balin was accounted for as well. He’d heard that Bofur had lost one of his eyes, but still left a couple of his men that had gone unmentioned. There was no news of Glóin and Bombur, and Thorin passionately disliked the sound of that. What had happened to them?

But he would have to wait. He was hardly in a fit state to run around to make inquiries at the moment. His leg was giving him all sorts of trouble, worse than after Smaug had fallen on it. This time it was unlikely to be as easily fixed as it had been then. But the prospect of never being able to walk well again was not as horrifying now as it had been. It paled in comparison with all the other concerns preying on his mind.

‘I’m going to find you something to eat,’ Dwalin announced. ‘You’ll drop down dead otherwise.’

Thorin resisted the urge to say that he would at least be in good hands if that happened. It wouldn’t be any use either; Dwalin was already gone. It was his way of giving him privacy. Subtlety had never been a particular strength of Dwalin’s, and Thorin had known him for so long that he could read him like a book.

He appreciated the gesture. It would not be easy for Dwalin to turn away from his own brother now, but he was giving Thorin a moment all the same. He was unsure how many would do the same.

So he would not waste the gift. He took Balin’s hand in his and prepared to sit here for a time as of yet unspecified. As long as was necessary.

Or not very long at all. ‘Move over, will you?’ an irritated voice asked. ‘Dear Maker, you do have a habit of getting in a healer’s way, don’t you?’ Turning back taught him that it was the tiny healer that had accused him of being in her way before. She was small, even for a dwarf, and fairly young. He’d say she was about Kíli’s age. ‘Mind you, you look like you should be in one of those beds yourself. Not that I can exactly make you – kings do as they please, my mother always said – but you can at least let me do my work for the more obliging patients.’

‘Do you always chatter like this?’ he snapped. He really had no patience for this right now. And he took back what he thought about her being like Kate. They were nothing alike. Kate at least understood how serious the situation was. This youngling didn’t seem to understand at all.

‘Bad habit,’ the girl said, sounding wholly unremorseful. ‘My point stands, though. You’re in my way. And I take it you do want me to treat your friend over here.’

 _Someone more experienced if at all possible would be nice_ , he thought. But there were too few healers as it was already. ‘I do.’

‘Then budge over,’ she commanded. ‘His bandages need changing, and Anar mentioned something about a wound needing stitches.’

‘What do you know about his condition, …?’ He trailed off when he realised he didn’t even know her name.

‘Thora, daughter of Kifir of the Iron Hills,’ she replied promptly. ‘I’ve been treating your friend since he was brought in late last night. Looks worse than it is. He’ll have a few impressive scars to show for it. I tried telling that big brute you were with before, but he just took one look at him, and then took off like he’d seen a ghost, pale as you like. To fetch you, I suppose. You’re family?’

‘Distant kin,’ Thorin answered curtly, not bothering to try and tell her that the “big brute” was the brother. ‘His name is Balin, son of Fundin. Did you say he will live?’

‘Oh, you’re a dramatic one, I can tell.’ Thora snorted. She didn’t even look at Thorin when she replied. Instead her hands were quickly removing the bandages on Balin’s chest, revealing the bloody mess underneath. Her complete lack of concern was grating on Thorin’s every nerve. How could she make light of this? ‘Yes, he’s going to live. It’ll take a bit before he’ll be back on his feet – orcs got him good, as you can see – but he’ll be as fit as a fiddle in a couple of weeks. These elven healing methods really _are_ fascinating. If only I could get permission to learn a couple of tricks from them…’ She sounded wistful for a moment, before she was all business-like again. ‘Anyway, there’s a few nasty cuts to the chest and then a couple more on his arms. Lost a bit of blood, but well, that’s the advantage of being a dwarf, isn’t it? We’re very hard to kill.’ She threw him a wide smile before returning to her work.

He scowled at her. A very bitter part of Thorin wanted to ask if maybe she wanted to go and tell that to Kíli, but he bit the scathing remark back just in time. It wasn’t the lass’s fault that he had seen too much to be optimistic. She was so young still, so innocent. He wondered whose decision it had been to let her come here in the first place.

Thora continued as if she had not seen his glare. Might be that she hadn’t, not now she was stitching a deep cut running all across Balin’s chest. ‘And this is a stubborn one, let me tell you. Anar, that’s my superior, said he’d been on the field of battle all night before he was found, but still breathing. If he made it so far, he’ll be fine, won’t he? We’re dwarves, we’re too stubborn to die, my _adad_ always says, and he’s right, wouldn’t you say?’

He’d had more than enough of the mindless chatter by now. ‘Many dwarves died yesterday,’ he chided her.

‘But not as many as might have been,’ Thora countered, not missing a beat. Where in Mahal’s name did that sunny disposition even come from? ‘I mean, compared to the number of men that lost their lives, or even the elves.’

How could she even compare? Every life lost was one life too many. ‘You know nothing of this world,’ he snapped at her. He’d said that to his sister-sons at the beginning of the quest, but it was true for this lass as well. And now Fíli and Kíli had seen the world and its horrors, and one of them had paid for his overconfidence with his life. Even though he knew it was highly unlikely that this tiny thing would ever see battle up close, he wished she’d grow up, whilst at the same time he wished she could hang onto that innocence indefinitely.

‘I know enough of it, my lord,’ she said. ‘Just look around. It’s just that some people need to balance out the constant pessimism that surrounds places like this, is all. All that brooding is very bad for the healing process, you know. My uncle wrote a thesis on it back home. Besides, what good is your behaviour going to do the living? Pessimistic king? Doesn’t sound like such a good thing for our people, I’d say. So much for my mother’s theory that marriage is good for folk.’

Thorin was about to give a very rude and unkingly response to that, but someone beat him to it. ‘You’re only saying that because you didn’t know him before he was married, lass.’

Both Thorin and Thora abandoned conversation in order to have a look at the speaker. Balin was no longer unconscious, but looking up at them with a very familiar hint of amusement in his eyes. He still looked miserable, but he was awake and alive. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest all of a sudden.

It was the young healer who recovered first. ‘Well, they say the Queen under the Mountain is quite something. Word has it she is a woman of Men from the far west even.’ She said it as if she did not believe a single word of it, though. All the more surprised she would be when she found out the rumours were true.

‘Oh, but she is,’ Balin smiled. He tried to sit up.

‘Can’t let you do that quite yet, I’m afraid,’ Thora objected, pushing the elderly dwarf gently but decisively back down. ‘You took a few heavy blows, you know. Besides, my superior will put me in the bed next to yours if I let you as much as move a finger, and you won’t want to do that to me, now, would you?’

It was only now that Thorin acknowledged the usefulness of the girl’s manners. It was a pleasant bedside manner, he supposed, but it didn’t work on anxious relatives who had lost more than they wanted to think about.

‘It would be a waste,’ Balin agreed pleasantly.

‘Exactly,’ Thora agreed. ‘The bed would be better used for that brooding king that’s been sitting here scowling a hole in the fabric of the tent. I don’t like the look of that leg much, but he’s a king and can do what he wants.’

‘I think Kate would rather disagree with you on that,’ Balin smiled. He was putting on a brave face, Thorin knew. Even if the quick grimace would not have given it away, he had known Balin for so long now that he could tell. ‘Speaking of which, has anyone seen her since the battle? Is she well?’

Trust Balin to think of others before he started to worry about himself. Kate was not the one lying in a bed with a skin colour more often seen on corpses than on living and breathing individuals. Yes, she was injured and she was pregnant – something he still could not quite wrap his head around, and probably couldn’t for a couple days more – but she was up on her feet and with an overprotective elf watching over her. It wasn’t Kate he needed to worry about.

‘She is alive,’ he confirmed. He might as well answer the question; Balin did not take no for an answer. ‘She is talking with Dáin and his advisors now to take care of…’ _Everything_ , he meant to say. Thorin knew she could, she was capable when she put her mind to it, as long as she could keep her temper in check.

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, though. ‘You sent her to talk to Dáin and his men alone?’ The incredulity was too obvious to miss. ‘Laddie, what did you think you were doing? They won’t listen to her without you there to lend authority to her words.’ He was speaking in that voice that suggested that he was the child that had made the most stupid mistake he could have made.

 _I told Dáin she speaks with my voice and they are our allies, our people. They are not our enemies._ The words sounded feeble in his own head. He knew that was not the way the world worked. Nói was not the only one to reject Kate as a future queen. But he had been too worried about Balin to put up much of a fight when she as good as ordered him out – and he listened, Mahal only knew what Dáin had made of that – and so he had let her go.

Balin read his answer in his silence. He rolled his eyes – which was as much physical exertion as he was likely to get away with under the scrutinising eyes of the chatty healer – and directed his attention to Thora with a smile that indicated that he was about to ask a favour. ‘Would you be a dear and find the queen?’ he asked, true to expectations. ‘I think you’ll find her with Lord Dáin.’

For a moment Thorin could almost see her sense of duty warring with her curiosity to see this mysterious woman – how Kate would hate it to be called that – and then the latter won out. ‘You are not allowed to move,’ she warned him in a would-be threatening manner. She bit her lip. ‘And I am not sure where Lord Dáin has made camp.’

‘That should be easy,’ Thorin heard himself say. ‘You only have to follow the shouting.’

***

Awkwardness ruled supreme as they made their way to wherever it was that this gathering was taking place. Dáin was walking next to her with a face like thunder. He practically radiated disapproval. Kate wasn’t even sure she could blame him. Well, not rationally, she couldn’t. To a certain extent she could even understand why he was so upset about the current events. If that Róni had been anything to go by, and if Balin’s words about the Iron Hills dwarves could be believed, then that lot was none too keen on having an outsider like her calling all the shots.

But it was frustrating. It was impossibly frustrating. Kate didn’t know if she could even do what needed to be done when everyone around her doubted her or loathed her so much that they wouldn’t listen to a thing she said, no matter how sensible it was.

Because that was not the problem. Organising things had been a skill she’d picked up in primary school. Admittedly this went way beyond school projects, the scale was much bigger, but she could do that if she really put her mind to the task. It was a challenge, and Kate Andrews had never been able to turn down one of those. But heaven help her if she had to do it without at least one friendly presence there. Elvaethor had offered to come, but tempting though it was, she had turned him down on the spot. Last thing she should do now was turn up with an elf in tow. Under the current circumstances, that would be the opposite of helpful.

She stopped dead. ‘Wait.’ This was a risk, but she thought Dáin at least respected Thorin, maybe even liked him, even though that was hard to tell.

To her surprise Dáin did as she bid him to. ‘Is there something the matter, my lady?’ He was impeccably polite, too polite.

‘You are,’ she said. There weren’t any people nearby at the moment, and those that may be within earshot were too busy dealing with the aftermath of the battle. ‘It’s quite obvious to me that you do not approve of me, of who I am and why I am even here. I am quite convinced that you’d much rather handle this with Thorin.’

‘It is not our way to discuss our business with outsiders,’ Dáin admitted. It did him credit that he didn’t try to deny it. He was sizing her up, wondering what she could want from him. ‘Our customs don’t change within a day.’

‘And I am sure they won’t change for one person, either,’ Kate said. He hadn’t said that, but it had been more than implied. She’d dealt with elves a lot lately; she could read subtext by now. ‘And believe you me, I am not champing at the bit to go and do this when it seems as though all the world is hell-bent on obstructing me. But here we are, and we have things to do.’

Not her best speech ever, and definitely not as calm and collected as she had hoped for it to be, but it would have to do for now. But is she did not at least have some cooperation from Dáin, how was she ever supposed to command respect and obedience from his men? _Politics: one of the most nastiest games ever invented in the whole wide world._

‘What are you asking of me? My obedience?’ He scoffed at the word.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake!_ ‘No, cooperation. I’m not saying we have to agree on everything, although some things would be nice. I’m just asking to tackle this whole thing together, which is probably going to be hard enough, given the fact that I’ll probably have to contend with every stinking prejudice on this planet even when you’re not participating in it.’

 _Keep it calm, girl_ , she reminded herself. _Now would not be a good time to go and lose it._ She wasn’t sure how long she could keep that up anyway. Given everything that happened lately her temper was short. It didn’t help that her leg was still aching as well. And for all their sakes, would Dáin just please start acting his age and help instead of looking at her like she was a dragon about to breathe fire at him?

‘You do not like me,’ she stated when the silence became uncomfortable, well, more uncomfortable than it already was. ‘At the moment, I do not like you very much either.’ Blunt honesty seemed to be a dwarven trait, so she might as well get used to it. ‘We can sort out our differences when all’s done and dusted. Then you can go and rant at me for as long as it pleases you, but right now I’ve got a job to do. You heard Thorin.’ _She speaks with my voice. Obey her as you would me_. Of course that had not gone over well. She had not expected it to. But she had hoped.

‘You are very direct,’ Dáin observed.

‘For a woman of Men?’ Kate suggested. The look on his face spoke volumes. ‘You don’t know the first thing about us. Which is not to say that all of us are like me, but I’d like to think we at least rank a bit higher than elves.’

This conversation was going in all directions, but well, it’d have to do.

'Queen Catherine...'

‘Kate,’ she corrected almost on reflex. ‘Let’s reserve my full name for the elves. No one but my mother calls me Catherine anymore these days.’ She banished the thought about her mother to the back of her mind for now, but not before resolving to find Gandalf at the earliest opportunity she had to discuss that visit to her world. He owed her. She daren’t even contemplate the possibility of him not letting her go back to say goodbye. Hadn’t she earned that right?

‘Kate,’ he started again. ‘I do not dislike you. I don’t know you well enough. But you are unusual here. And I know for certain that Thorin was unmarried when we last met in the Ered Luin. Your marriage to him is recent. I believe your acquaintance with him does not pre-date your marriage all that long.’

He was observant, she’d give him that. And lies would not do her any good, so she decided to stick with truth. ‘You’re right,’ she confessed. ‘And the circumstances are much stranger than I can explain in so short a time. Truth be told, I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. I promise to tell you everything in good time, I swear I will. But now is not the time.’ Ugh, she hated how pleading she sounded. Thing was, she really wanted Dáin on side. What had she been thinking, offering to go in Thorin’s place? The truth, she had not been thinking at all. Again.

So she would not deny being relieved when Dáin nodded. ‘Very well. We will talk later.’

He hadn’t said that he’d support her, but some things went unspoken. At the very least she could expect him not to publicly turn on her. That had to be worth something. It was as good as she was likely to get, so she’d better run with it.

The tent where the dwarves had gathered was filled with about half a dozen dwarves, almost none of them familiar. Most of them weren’t that pleased to see her either.

_So, here goes._

‘Where is Thorin?’ came the demand from a tallish dwarf with a long brown beard he had braided and tucked into his belt. The tone of voice was not exactly hostile, but it was a near thing.

‘Otherwise engaged,’ she replied curtly. _Time to turn on the tough cop act, Andrews. Take charge before they waltz all over you and do what they want_. ‘You’ll have to make do with me, I’m afraid. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.’

‘Beli, son of Bali,’ the dwarf said. ‘My lady, with all due respect…’

‘With all due respect, Beli, Thorin told me to take charge here,’ Kate interjected. ‘I am not here to argue with you over what authority rests with what person, I am just carrying out orders as much as you are.’ Hopefully that would do the trick of making them believe that it really was Thorin who made the decisions. ‘So, what have we got? How many dead, how many injured? How long will our supplies last?’ _I need data to work with._

One of the dwarves, a relatively young one, nodded, consulting briefly with the enormous stack of paperwork in front of him before he answered. ‘We are still collecting lists, my lady, but not all the bodies have been retrieved.’

‘Understandable,’ Kate nodded. Could it really be this easy for her? She hardly dared to hope. ‘But if that is the case, then maybe we should focus on retrieving the bodies first. Is there anything like an organised search?’

‘Not that I am aware of, my lady,’ the dwarf said. He most certainly was a scribe. The table in front of him was covered in parchment and quills. One of those had even ended up tucked in his beard. Since he was fair-haired and there had still been ink on the tip, some of the hairs had changed colour as well. Nevertheless, he was someone prepared to work with her without putting up a fight, which made him her new favourite person in the room. ‘But setting up such a search should be easy. And then we could make notes of everyone brought in…’

 _You were born on the wrong planet, my friend_. ‘That’s what I am talking about,’ she said. ‘How many scribes came in with you, …?’

‘Ragnar, my lady,’ he answered. ‘There’s two others. I could set it up in less than an hour.’

‘Then do it,’ she said. Her confidence was growing. This was something she was actually good at. No, this was nowhere near a school project, this was so much more, but the essentials were the same. She remembered something. ‘And we need to set up medical help in a more centralised manner. It’s all helter-skelter, healers all over the place. There’s no method to it. If we can bring some semblance of order into it, then we can actually get somewhere.’ Right now healers were running from one place to another to see to their patients, to fetch supplies from wherever they could find them. What the hell had Dáin been doing, or, rather, what hadn’t he been doing that it had ended up being such a mess?

‘Hold on!’ one of the dwarves protested, a small, but stocky one with a black beard that would put even Bombur’s to shame. ‘Who are you to give us orders?’

 _Who are you to question them?_ ‘I’m Kate, wife to Thorin Oakenshield, who is your king. He asked me to take care of this matter, as I recall saying not five minutes ago.’

Irritation crept into her voice. Of course, she had not expected this to be easy, but she had hoped that for the greater good they could at least set aside their differences for the time being. A fool’s hope that now turned out to be.

‘I am not in the habit of taking my orders from a woman of your kind,’ the dwarf said bluntly.

‘I can see that.’ The sarcasm came natural to her. And it wasn’t a good idea, it was the farthest thing from a good idea she’d had all day, but she rather thought she’d had enough crap from Thranduil and Lord Erland before the battle. Was she now supposed to put up with even more from what were going to be her own people? ‘Believe you me, I am not usually in the habit of having to argue over which way to best save lives. And I hate to say, you’re rather obstructing that mission.’ _Sort out your bloody priorities_. ‘Ragnar, could you go and set up that search party?’

Finally Dáin cut in. ‘Take a few men from my personal guard to organise it,’ he told the scribe.

It wasn’t exactly the same thing as his seal of approval, but it was good enough for Kate. He wasn’t countermanding her. Quite the contrary, he was backing her up. Of course, he could have done that quite a bit sooner and saved her a fruitless argument with Blackbeard over there, but fact remained that he had come to help her out eventually. Better late than never and all that.

Unfortunately Blackbeard had all the characteristics of a dog clinging to a bone. ‘I’ve never even heard of you before we arrived here,’ he insisted.

‘And you are usually so well-informed of all the goings-on in the Ered Luin that you can say with certainty that there is nothing that happens there that escapes your notice?’ Kate countered.

Not wise, this course of action. Her temper was too short for a day like this. She’d so much rather be out there with Ragnar, who had escaped the moment he’d received his orders, to organise a search and do some good. She had never been made for the art of diplomacy. What was she even doing here? Standing in for Thorin? Oh, who was she fooling? Thorin wouldn’t have had so much trouble getting his nobles in line. And it really wasn’t as if she was planning on dominating these people, she just wanted them to come to their senses so that they could go and do what needed doing.

‘You have a bold tongue,’ Blackbeard said.

‘Not bolder than yours, I daresay,’ Kate said. If this was going to turn into a battle of words, she might as well go all the way. She had tried to keep her tongue when dealing with Thranduil and Erland in the negotiations, and a fat lot of good that had done her. She was done with being nice and polite. ‘At least you know my name. I don’t remember hearing yours.’

‘Walin, son of Tergin,’ came the prompt reply.

Privately Kate thought Blackbeard suited him much better.

The rest of the dwarves took that as their cue to make their own introductions. The redheaded fellow with the green eyes was called Toigan, and he managed to even smile at her. His neighbour with the short beard introduced himself as Loni. He had lost his son in the battle yesterday, he told her, and he apologised for the poor state in which he had shown up. Kate thought that with the way she herself looked, she was hardly in a way to criticise anyone’s appearance and so she told him that it was no matter. The last dwarf, a grey-haired elderly one was named Bari, and he appeared to be an overly polite kind of person. It was rather obvious that he did not fully approve of her presence here – he had been eyeing her suspiciously before Dáin had backed her up – but he seemed okay with following his lord’s lead.

That where three dwarves she might be able to work with, well, four dwarves if she counted the now absent Ragnar. Blackbeard and Beli were the ones who might be difficult. Unfortunately they were also the most vocal. None of the others clearly trusted her enough to fight her corner.

It was very much like the company had been when the quest had barely begun, Kate reflected. They just didn’t know what to make of her. With the company that had changed when she had saved Ori from the warg jumping at them. Alas, there were no obliging wargs available at the moment. That would have been helpful right about now.

‘Very well,’ she said when the introductions were out of the way. ‘Shall we get down to business?’

‘I still don’t see why Thorin sent you to handle matters of such importance,’ Beli spoke up. Great, two bulldog-like types clinging to bones. They were like toddlers testing how far they could go before they got sent to their rooms. The longer they went on, the more tempting it was to send both of them out and be done with them. If only she could. Right now, Kate had no idea how far her authority went, what she could and couldn’t get away with.

‘Then fortunately for you, understanding is not required,’ Kate said. _Count to ten and resist the urge to bang his head against the nearest available surface_. ‘Of course you are very welcome to go and demand clarification from my husband. I’m sure he will be very pleased to see you. Meanwhile the day’s wasting, so forgive us for carrying on without you while you sort out who’s dealing with what.’

Bull’s eye. Apparently there was one thing worse than taking orders from an outsider and it was to miss the chance to be associated with the command. She should have figured that out before and saved herself some of the grief this man had been giving her. Well, she would save this bit of information for future reference. No idea when it just might come in handy after all.

‘I will ask him when this meeting has been concluded,’ Beli informed her. Strangely enough it sounded like something of a threat.

 _Just you wait until Thorin hears what happened here_ , Kate thought, feeling a whole lot better for imagining this self-important dwarf getting his ears blistered by Thorin when the King under the Mountain inevitably found out. No, he wouldn’t hear it from her, tempting though it was to go and tell him. That’d be like relying too much on him to get her way, and Kate rather fought her own battles. But she had no doubt about this Beli running off to find his king – presumably with Blackbeard following in his wake – complaining about this woman of Men bossing him about. As she recalled, Thorin had been none too pleased with Róni before the battle because he hadn’t thought her worthy to talk to. She doubted he’d developed a fondness for behaviour like that overnight.

After that, Kate would not say that the meeting went smoothly, but it went better. Dáin finally got involved in the discussions, which was quite something after his initial silence. Between the seven of them they even managed to come up with a few workable ideas. Especially Toigan seemed like a nice and resourceful fellow he didn’t hang onto his prejudices the way the rest of them did. She couldn’t be sure about Loni, though. The grief was weighing him down, making him a very passive member of this impromptu council.

Even so, Kate had the lingering feeling of being very unwelcome. The only reason they worked with her was because Dáin was here with her and because they imply did not have the time to haggle over it till the world stopped turning.

‘No offence, my lady,’ Toigan said eventually. ‘But some of these plans might interfere with those of the elves and the men.’

Kate grimaced. ‘Oh joy. More talking to bloody Thranduil. Like I’ve hadn’t enough of the elvish chatter to last me a lifetime already.’

Shit. The words had been out of her mouth before she could even begin to stop herself. And that really was not the best way to handle this situation. Of course, none of the people present here were overly fond of elves, but there were limits. It would be fair to say that she had just crossed one.

‘Glad to hear you think so, lass,’ Toigan said approvingly. All of a sudden he had abandoned the respectful title, jumping to the more informal approach. She probably shouldn’t be as relieved as she was to hear that. To her ears, it sounded lie acceptance. ‘Pointy-ears never do anything but give us loads of trouble.’

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ she said, hesitant smile tugging at her lips. ‘Although you don’t want to underestimate that Master of Lake-town either. Speaking of which, does anyone know anything about which of their leaders have made it through the battle?’ She should have thought of that a bit sooner.

‘Would you like me to find out?’ Toigan asked.

Kate nodded. ‘If it isn’t too much of a bother, then yes, please. Try and see if you can arrange a meeting within the week. The sooner they’re all gone back to where they came from, the better it would be.’ Which would mean that the problems that had started this whole mess to begin with would be chewed over once more. And Kate didn’t think Thranduil would suddenly have changed his mind.

Toigan was hallway through his promise to see it done when the tentflap was pulled aside to let through another dwarf, a smallish one dressed in trousers and a tunic, but with an apron tied in front of them.

‘Sorry to interrupt, my lords,’ he said. ‘Terribly sorry, but I’ve come with a message from King Thorin for Queen Kate.’

‘That would be me,’ Kate said. If she was really very lucky, this message could prove to be her get-out-of-jail-free-card. ‘I’m sorry, but you are?’

The dwarf’s eyes widened. ‘So it _is_ true… Oh, sorry, Thora, daughter of Kifir, at your service.’ Not a male dwarf then, a female. Now that Kate knew, she could see it too. The voice was slightly higher than the dwarf men’s voices, and there were certain curves that could not be found on any male individual. The apron hid most of them from view, though, which was why she had missed the signs initially.

She was rather young, though. There was a wide-eyed innocence as she positively _stared_ at Kate, as if she was barely able to believe she was there. It was a bit unnerving, to be quite honest.

‘You said you had a message?’ she prompted. _And could you for heaven’s sake direct that stare elsewhere?_

The incredulity rapidly made way for a wide smile. ‘Yes, yes. Your very grumpy and brooding husband and his invalided friend asked me to come and resc… _fetch_ you.’

She corrected herself, but not before Kate had heard enough to understand what it was she had meant to say. _In need of rescuing now, am I?_ He might have done that a while back. It’d have been more use to her then. Now everything was under control. More or less.

‘I would have been here sooner if I’d been able to find it.’ The girl seemed to have read her mind. ‘Though it was your husband who said I should be following the shouting, which really wasn’t helpful at all.’ Only now she seemed to realise that Kate was not the only person in the room, and there were other people present, people Kate supposedly needed rescuing from. ‘Oh.’

Kate could only just bite back the chuckle that was bubbling up. Thorin had managed to run into a girl who had even less tact than Kate. It counted as quite the achievement in her book. But she was not about to let Thora undo all her good work. ‘We won’t want to keep them waiting,’ she said. ‘Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me?’

* * *

 

 From Thorin’s notes: _Balin is right; I may have made a mistake letting Kate go out to deal with my kin. Mahal give that nothing serious has occurred._


	88. Crushed Hopes

_Truth be told, the negotiations had gone better than I had dared to believe, but I realise that I may have described them a bit more positively than they were. But then, none of you will be interested in the complete transcripts of that meeting. According to Jack, talks are “deadly boring” and I can’t find it in my heart to disagree with you, my son. You are absolutely right. Talks are by far the most boring task in the job description. Lucky then for you that it will be your eldest brother who’ll have to deal with things like that in future. As much as I hate to admit this, you take too much after your parents. Maker only knows where you got your feel for politics from, Thoren, because it’s definitely not from either of us._

_Thora really was a gift from heaven. And you all know her. Well, you know her as Mrs Thora, mother of Flói, who just so happens to be Jack’s best friend. And that is the first time we met. Needless to say she made a slightly more positive impression on me than she made on your father, my dears. Oh, how annoyed he was when he was told quite plainly what she thought of him! It’s almost a shame I was not there to witness that exchange, because I reckon it would have been highly amusing. Alas, I have been forced to make do with the eyewitness accounts._

_And that was also the day I had my first proper experience with dwarves._ What are you talking about, is what you’ll ask.You had been travelling with dwarves for months before the Battle of the Five Armies!

_And you’re right. Maybe I should rephrase it. That was my first proper experience with dwarves who hadn’t been forced to travel with me. Not that they were forced by the end of the journey, but they were at the beginning. But you can’t travel with people for so long and not end up having a different relationship with them by the end. Things had to change; you can’t be on the road together for such a long time and still hate one another. By the end of it all, we were friends. Some were even family._

_But after the battle I had to deal with dwarves who didn’t have that need to get over their prejudices. After the battle I had to deal with dwarves who had the luxury position of being able to choose their friends, and quite a number made it rather clear that they didn’t want anything to do with me, who was nothing but an outsider to them._

_In hindsight I can understand the sentiment. They had been called to Erebor to deal with a bunch of elves and men who had gotten it into their heads to lay claim to the treasures of the dwarves. My race was hardly on top of their favourites list by the time I got to meet them. True, there had been an alliance, but right then, heaven only knew how long that one would last now that the threat had been removed. And there I was, walking around as if I had every right to give the orders. And I had the right, given to me by Thorin. Not that I felt it. I just felt horribly out of place._

_It’s nothing short of a miracle that eventually it all worked out. I put it down to the necessity. We needed to make some decisions. It was hardly the time for power plays, to establish who had the right to do what. So yes, walking out with Thora left me with something of a triumphant feeling, the feeling that I had actually managed to do what needed doing. And I rather thought I was allowed to be proud of my achievement. My first foray into dealing with dwarves could with some imagination be called a success. It wasn’t a complete failure._

_Little did I know that my feelings of triumph would last less than an hour…_

 

It didn’t take Kate long to establish that if she wasn’t very careful, the female dwarf walking next to her might soon be suffering from a severe case of hero-worship. Thora bounced rather than walked, a slightly incredulous, but mainly over-excited smile plastered all over her face. Kate contemplated the use of pointing out that such an expression was hardly appropriate after the previous day’s events, but eventually settled for just inquiring after Balin.

‘Oh, he’s fine, that one,’ Thora said immediately. ‘And a very good influence on your husband too, if I may say so. Pardon my saying, but he’s a bit of a pessimist, my lady.’

‘Kate,’ she corrected automatically. It was good to hear that Balin would be all right. The way Dwalin had looked had more suggested that the old dwarf was lying on his death bed. This dwarf however seemed to think that he was going to be just fine. Speaking of mixed messages. ‘Sorry, for asking, but I’m not exactly certain who you are.’ Didn’t female dwarves in general stay away from battle? She thought she’d read that somewhere in Tolkien’s works, but given that the book in question was in another world and she hadn’t had the chance to look at it in months, she was not sure how reliable her knowledge was.

‘I’m a healer,’ Thora announced. She didn’t wait for a reaction; instead she began to treat Kate to the details of what ailed Balin. ‘He took a few nasty cuts to arms and torso. The one in his torso is a bit deep, but nothing a good stitching and lots of rest can’t fix in a jiffy. And that elven magic I’ve seen, it’s just fascinating. Well, they say it isn’t magic, but it looks like it. If only I could get them to teach me some of it…’ Her voice trailed off in wistfulness.

 _I should introduce her to Elvaethor. They’d get along spectacularly_. Kate suppressed the smile that mental image induced. It didn’t mean she was wrong about them, though. They were both in equal measure fascinated with things they had never seen before, and with that attitude, neither of them was quite in step with the attitude of their respective people.

‘I might know someone who’d be willing to show you,’ she admitted. ‘He treated me for some of my wounds a while ago. I’ll ask him when I see him next.’

Truth was, she liked Thora. Of course, she was only too well aware she liked her mainly because Thora liked her, when not many other Iron Hills dwarves seemed to feel that way. And the kindness was genuine, not born out of the need to be polite for fear of what Thorin would do when he learned how she had been treated and neither did it seem to stem from pity at how she was treated by what was supposed to pass for dwarven nobility.

Thora flashed her the most bright smile Kate had seen in weeks. ‘You would? Thank you, my lady! It’d be a great opportunity to learn.’

‘Careful, though,’ Kate counselled. ‘He’s bound to ask as many questions of you as you’ll ask of him.’

Not that this warning seemed to put Thora off. ‘I thank you all the same, if you don’t mind.’

‘Why would I mind?’ Kate wondered. She was glad someone didn’t object to her presence, even if she was only a young healer who seemed to have overdosed on enthusiasm. There was something very contagious about her behaviour, though; Kate found herself smiling almost without realising she did it.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Thora said. ‘My mother brought me up to be polite, is all. And if you don’t mind my saying, your husband could have done with a few of her lessons in etiquette.’

This time Kate did laugh. ‘Which took you how long to figure out exactly?’ Thorin was a great many things, but polite was not often among them. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t mind you saying most things. It’s in fact great to hear someone speak their mind after having been forced to spend time with that sanctimonious lot.’ There, she could be inappropriate as well. It was a relief.

‘I didn’t believe them at first,’ Thora said. ‘When they said you were a woman of Men, but you are. You know, I like your husband better for it. If he had married one of those silly cows of the Iron Hills I’d have valued his intelligence on the same rate as I value that complaining Man of Lake-town I had to look after this morning. Kept complaining that he was going to die. Asked him how he thought that scratch was going to kill him. Know what he said?’

‘Haven’t the faintest,’ Kate replied.

The smile was tugging at her lips and wouldn’t be fought off. And why should she fight it? She had managed to deal with a group of pompous lords, Balin wasn’t dying and she had met someone who actually applauded her presence here. Besides, this reminded her of afternoons spent with Laura and Anna, exchanging jokes and funny stories to pass the time. There had been so much misery the last couple of weeks, she rather thought she’d earned the right to smile for once.

‘He said: well, how should I know? You’re the healer!’ Thora said. ‘And then I asked him how he was so certain he was going to die if he didn’t know the first thing about healing. He told me that he had a _feeling_ about it, and that I was a dwarf, so what would I understand about it.’

Kate laughed. ‘Oh, I am of the same race, but believe you me, I don’t understand a thing about that sort of reasoning, either.’

‘He sounded like one of those elves, he did, carrying on about feeling and sensing the future,’ Thora said, laughing herself. ‘I was almost tempted to brush that hair aside to check the ears.’

‘Generally the beard kind of gives it away,’ Kate pointed out. Good grief, how long ago was it that she had a female friend to laugh and joke with? All she’d seen for the better part of last year were men, which was fine by her, really; she could get along with them just fine – after a fashion – but she used to love hanging out with the girls as well. And she hadn’t realised just how much she missed that until she finally got the chance to do such a thing again. Alive, she thought. _I feel alive, almost happy_. Maybe that was the wrong thing to be feeling in the aftermath of a battle, but it was such a relief that she could not honestly bring herself to mind. Not yet anyway. ‘Elves’ faces, I sometimes have trouble telling their men from their women.’

‘Indeed, my la… Kate,’ Thora corrected at the last moment. ‘I’ve got to say, I usually don’t care much for those beardless faces of the mannish women. It just looks off, like something essential is missing.’

‘Can’t seem to grow one,’ Kate said, trying for flippancy, because she was not entirely sure if she had been insulted. She didn’t think so; thus far Thora had demonstrated the blunt honesty Kate had come to associate with most of her race and she rather thought that if Thora meant to insult her, she’d be just as blunt about it. The fact that she was not, implicated that this had merely been an observation, a passing remark.

 _Dealing with dwarves. One of these days I will get the hang of it._ Well, that was more of a hope and less of a solid belief. She got along with the company just fine, but they were hardly your usual kind of dwarves. And then there was Thorin. And Kate thought he could hardly be catalogued under dwarf, elf or man like the rest of them. He might as well be a race in his own right.

‘I will get used to it,’ Thora shrugged. ‘Not that your husband sports much of one, truth be told.’

‘And he won’t for some time to come.’ If there was one thing Kate could say with absolute certainty, then it was that Thorin would be in no mood to grow out his beard in the near future. He may be more pleased with the news of her pregnancy than she had even dared to hope, but it didn’t lessen his considerable grief over Kíli’s death. He was devastated over it, probably even more so because he had been far too quick to load the blame on himself. She should not have been surprised – and honestly, she wasn’t – but it did make dealing with him more of a trial.

‘Beg pardon?’ Thora asked.

‘He lost his sister-son in the battle,’ Kate explained. _And he’s taken it hard_ went unsaid, but she believed her new friend – because that was what she was, right? – had gotten the message.

The healer blushed violently. ‘And I commented on his behaviour!’ she exclaimed, seemingly scandalised by her own actions.

‘You couldn’t have known,’ the advisor said. ‘Not your fault. You aren’t a mind reader.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Thora confirmed. ‘Word has it that one of the elves around here is, though. Idle gossip if you ask me, but then, some folk need something to talk about, don’t they?’

Thora struck Kate as a very down to earth sort of girl, with no patience for nonsense. And she liked that. ‘Wouldn’t be so sure as all that,’ she said mildly. ‘I’ve met her, the mind reader. Not a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination. Let her go poking around in your head, and you’ve got no privacy left.’ Lady Galadriel may be on the right side – whichever one was the right side now that the battle was done and everyone slid back into their own faction – but she unnerved Kate. Maybe it was just the very idea of someone poking around in her brain, but she certainly did not have to like it.

‘Well, I’ve got nothing to hide,’ Thora proclaimed. Kate didn’t doubt it; the dwarf woman carried her heart on her sleeve. ‘All the same, I don’t like folk prying around in what doesn’t concern them.’

‘You and me both,’ Kate agreed. Galadriel’s prying had made her skin crawl. Unlike Thora, she had a lot to hide, and she wasn’t sure how many of her secrets were now known to the elven lady. Probably a lot more than Kate was comfortable with. ‘Ah, here we are.’

She pulled the tent flap aside and stepped inside. For a moment her eyes needed to adjust to the constant twilight, but when they had, she didn’t need to wonder where Balin was. Quite apart from the fact that she spotted his grey hair even from where she was standing, the enormous wizard towering over the small group gathered at his bedside kind of gave it away.

 _Bloody Gandalf. We might as well have that chat now, before he disappears off to distant places_. And no way that she was letting him run off without holding him to the promise he had made to her. _For heaven’s sake, I’ve bloody well earned it._

Kate took a deep breath, and marched into the tent.

***

It was only when the tiny healer had disappeared in a whirl of brown braids and under a cloud of pure excitement that Thorin felt he could have something approaching a decent conversation with his old friend. If he knew Balin at all, he’d want to know what had happened to the rest of the company before long. He’d done the same in Esgaroth; demanding that they talk strategy even when it was painfully obvious that he was in no state to do anything but rest and recover his strength instead of wasting it on talk. But then, Balin was like most of his race in that respect: incorrigibly stubborn. Pots and kettles, Kate would say.

He was given a few minutes respite from having to tell his news – the bad news, Balin would love the good news as much as Dwalin had predicted – because a healer came in and demanded to have a look at Balin’s injuries, despite his friend’s protests that someone had just done that.

‘Thora, you said?’ The healer shook his head in exasperation. ‘She has a steady hand and quick wits, I’ll give her that, but Maker have mercy on me, she has more beard than sense.’

‘And a tongue sharper than many a blade,’ Balin had added. ‘Bless her.’

Thorin agreed with the first part of that assessment, not with the latter. Banish her was more what he had in mind. That tongue was a bane rather than a blessing.

Judging by the disgruntled look with which the healer responded to Balin’s words, he agreed with Thorin on the matter. He kept quiet as he saw to Balin’s wounds and reluctantly admitted that he had been well cared for. Thorin took this to mean that he had been no great supporter of the young girl’s coming here, not even now that she turned out to have done her job quite well.

‘She will get along with Kate quite well, I imagine,’ Balin said pleasantly once the healer had left.

‘I imagine,’ Thorin said, echoing the last words in what was neither agreement nor denial. He had no doubt that Kate would enjoy Thora’s company, especially after having to deal with nobles that didn’t have a noble bone in their bodies. She’d appreciate the girl’s directness, he thought.

‘What happened?’ Balin had never been one for beating around the bush. He went straight to the heart of it, and Thorin’s lukewarm response would have alerted him to the fact that something was not quite the way it should be. And, as usual, he put Thorin’s wellbeing way before his own. Never mind that he was confined to bed, something was ailing his friend, and he’d get to the bottom of it before the hour was out.

Bad news first, then the good news to soften the blow somewhat. That was one of the tricks his mother had taught him in what now felt like a different lifetime altogether. Not that Kate’s announcement had in any way dulled the ache in his chest, and he didn’t think it’d do that for Balin, but he might as well go with his mother’s advice.

‘Kíli is dead.’ Three words, and they felt harsher and more final every time he said them. Dead. Kíli was dead. And there was no going back from there. While there was still breath in a body, there was always hope that maybe they would keep on breathing for a little longer, long enough for them to heal. But when death came, there was no hope at all. Bolg had ended Thorin’s the moment he had cut off Kíli’s head.

Balin took the news silently, but Thorin wasn’t fooled. He could practically see the blood drain from his face, something he could very ill afford now, not in the condition he was in, when blood loss was one of the most serious concerns. But he understood the feeling of despair, of loss that cut too deep, and it was only when something creaked that he realised he was dangerously close to pulverising part of the chair he was sitting on as a result of holding it too tight.

‘Oh laddie,’ he sighed eventually. With that curt reaction he had however conveyed more information than books could hold. Sympathy, grief, compassion. It was all there. And normally Thorin had nothing but scorn for those who had the guts to pity him, but it was different with Balin. It was never patronising, but always loving. Understanding.

He quickly carried on by telling Balin the news about the rest of the company, mentioned their injuries – he carefully omitted how Ori had come to be in such a state; that was a tale for another time – and detailed what had happened at the side door. Kate had been full of praise for Bilbo’s actions and Thorin felt compelled to repeat it. Somehow it still grated on his nerves that the hobbit had turned out so well, but that was more to do with him than with the burglar; admitting that he had been wrong had never been one of his strongest points. But he would give praise where it was due, and even Thorin knew that without Mr Baggins’s interference, things might have ended very differently. He owed him more than he could ever hope to repay him.

‘Is Kate well?’ Balin asked when he concluded his tale.

‘She was injured lightly and walks with a limp,’ Thorin reported. It seemed such an understatement, given the dread that had seized him when he realised just how close he had come to losing yet another he cared about. And the terror had only grasped him tighter when she told him under which circumstances she had entered the field of battle. He could hardly blame her for taking up arms and defend the kingdom that would be hers as well as his, and she had not known then that she was with child, but Maker help him, he had panicked then, even when the battle was long since done with and she was out of danger.

Balin fixed him with an inquisitive look. ‘That’s not all,’ he concluded.

‘She is with child.’ Why he felt like he was confessing to a great crime, he didn’t quite know. As far as everyone out there was concerned, they were already married. Maybe it was because Thorin knew that they were in fact not that he felt so uncomfortable with this.

‘Ah,’ Balin said, probably aiming for thoughtfulness, but Thorin had known him for so long now that he could not be fooled that easily. There was a big and very undignified grin fighting its way onto his face. Dwalin’s prediction that his older brother would be pleased to hear the news turned out to be something of an understatement. Overjoyed was more accurate. ‘Is she indeed?’

‘She is,’ Thorin said. ‘And apparently all the elves know.’ That vexed him. How could he have been so blind to what was happening under his very nose? Although he supposed he should be pleased that Tauriel had the common courtesy of breaking the news to Kate in private. He could only imagine the humiliation had Thranduil or one of his cronies taken it upon themselves to announce it in public and made them look stupid because they didn’t have a clue as to what he was on about.

‘That was to be expected,’ Balin remarked. With the elven senses being the way they were, he probably had a very good point. ‘And before long everyone will know.’ He pondered on that for a moment. ‘I should have been aware of the possibility. After all, the tale of Dari and Inga is well-known.’

‘So it would seem,’ Thorin remarked sourly. Before today he had never even heard of the story, but all of a sudden people were referencing it as if it was common knowledge. Well, maybe to scholars it was, but Thorin’d had more pressing concerns in his life than the knowledge of love stories. It was only now that he had a need to know that it kept popping up, and everyone seemed to think he should have intimate knowledge of it.

Balin was about to reassure him, but was stopped from doing that by Gandalf’s arrival. He had a commanding presence, not to mention that his tall form in the opening blocked a good deal of the light flooding in. That was what made Thorin look around. He hadn’t seen the wizard since before the battle, and had not spoken privately with him for far longer.

That period of silence would be at an end now, though. The wizard glanced around the tent, found Thorin and then he started making his way towards him. Thorin was quite sure that he had seen the grey wizard fight yesterday, but it didn’t show on him. He looked his normal self, not a scratch on him. But even if he had been injured, Thorin supposed he would never have found out; he had the power to make his wounds disappear magically.

‘Gandalf,’ he acknowledged. He had never liked him very much, and he had the feeling that the sentiment was mutual.

‘Thorin.’ The response was equally curt. ‘Balin.’

There was a lecture coming, Thorin sensed. It was very likely that, just like in the book, Gandalf didn’t approve of the choices Thorin had made before the battle, and Mahal only knew what he would think of his relationship with Kate. But Thorin was the King under the Mountain; he wasn’t answering to the grey wizard for his actions. They were his own, and he did not regret them. And if Gandalf thought that pleading with him to end this by giving the elves and men what they had come here for in the first place, then he was sorely mistaken. He stood by what he had said before. He would give them what they were due, which was the amount he had mentioned to the men – which was still very generous – and nothing for the elves. He would repay Elvaethor and his sister, because yes, he owed it to them, but he would not be squandering the wealth of his ancestors on the likes of Thranduil. His grandfather would tear his beard out hair by hair if he’d been alive to hear such a notion.

‘I see you are well,’ Thorin said. ‘Good.’ For all his dislike of Gandalf, he didn’t think he deserved to die, and he had been a great help from time to time.

‘As are you,’ Gandalf said. Oh yes, he was definitely displeased. ‘And I hear Miss Andrews has not been injured severely, either.’

‘She is no longer Miss Andrews,’ Thorin said. Miss suggested unmarried, and Kate could no longer be seen as that. As much as Thorin hated the need for deceit, and he did rather a lot, he hated chaos even more, especially now that he had his kingdom. He was loath to lose what he had fought so hard to get.

That knowing smile of Gandalf’s told Thorin exactly how much he believed of that story. ‘Is that so?’ For a moment he sounded like Balin.

Before Thorin was given the opportunity to tell the wizard to please mind his own business, the subject of their discussions walked in, closely followed by the brown-haired menace that called herself a healer. She looked like she was in the process of chatting Kate’s ears off, but unlike Thorin, the company advisor did not seem to mind. She turned half back, said something that Thorin didn’t catch from this distance, and Thora laughed, with Kate joining in a few moments later. No, not only did she seem to appreciate Thora’s presence, she seemed happier too. Thorin had trouble remembering if he had ever heard her laugh like that.

Not when she was with him.

And for some reason this did not make him feel any more tolerant towards Thora. Of course he knew that he had never been the most good-tempered dwarf to be around; Dís tended to remark that the times she had heard him laugh, really laugh, could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and even than she’d have fingers to spare. And she was right. He didn’t laugh easily, and neither was he the kind of person to inspire laughter in others. Thora however was.

Kate took her leave of the girl and marched over to where they were sitting.

‘Gandalf,’ she greeted rather coolly. She spared a smile for Thorin before directing it at Balin. ‘It’s good to see you awake, Balin. Thora says you’ll be making a full recovery. You had me worried for a moment, there, though. The way Dwalin was looking you’d say you were on your deathbed. Glad to see that isn’t the case.’ Thorin noted with disdain that Thora’s chatter was rather contagious.

‘It’ll take something more than an orc to do me in, lass,’ Balin replied good-naturedly.

‘So it seems,’ Kate agreed. ‘I take it I have you to thank for the rescue party?’

‘Aye,’ the old dwarf said. ‘Were you in need of it?’

Kate chuckled. ‘Surprisingly, no. Well, at first. Blackbeard, I mean, Lord Walin…’ She trailed off when she realised she had referred to him by his nickname, blushing, but Thorin, who remembered Walin from the meeting in the Ered Luin, privately agreed that Blackbeard was a name that suited him remarkably well.

She recovered quickly and continued her report as if she had not made a mistake at all. ‘Walin and someone called Beli, they were giving me a bit of grief, but I managed. The scribe, Ragnar, is going to organise search parties and a quicker way to get all the names of the wounded and deceased. Hopefully we’ll have the last lists in before dawn. A certain Loni is going to have a good look at our supplies. He said to report back when he knows more. And I’ve sent Toigan to set up a meeting with Thranduil and Lord Erland for tomorrow, so we can sort out where everything overlaps and who’s going to take care of what, provided both of those are still alive.’ Thorin wondered if he just imagined the unspoken wish that both were out of action. Not permanently, maybe, but at least for a good long while.

And he was impressed. Oh, he had known that Kate could take charge, but from the moment that Balin had pointed out that she may experience more than a little trouble with his people, but he had not expected her to have everything under control to such an extent that they did as she asked.

‘I don’t think it will work that well again,’ she admitted, effectively ending his hopes that this would be the end of his troubles on that account. ‘They worked with me because we have limited time and Thorin was unavailable, but they won’t repeat this once everything’s back to how it’s supposed to be.’

Up to now she had almost completely ignored the wizard. If that was not a clue that she didn’t like him any more than Thorin himself did, then he didn’t know what was.  
But it didn’t matter what amount of attention Kate felt like granting, because Gandalf drew it towards himself quite admirably. ‘I think we shall speak later.’ Good, he seemed to get the message that he was not welcome.

However, Kate disagreed. Gandalf had already turned to leave, when she called him back. ‘Wait for a moment, please,’ she said.

‘Is there anything the matter, Miss Andrews?’ Just for once, Gandalf seemed just as puzzled as Thorin, which had to be a novelty. Neither of them had a clue as to why she would want to talk to Gandalf of her own volition, when she had tried to avoid that for most of the time when he had been with them, except when it was to argue something to do with the quest. Thorin suspected that she had disagreed with him a lot, even if only to have someone to rebel against. But that was unlikely to be the reason now.

‘We need to discuss my visit to the rest of the Andrews clan before you disappear to distant places,’ Kate said. Because she was stood next to him, he could see the slight tremble of her hand, but there was no trace of uncertainty in her voice. It rang with confidence. She believed she was well within her rights to discuss this. And she was.

Gandalf expressed his confusion at the question, after which Kate was kind enough to explain the plan to him. She’d go back to her home as soon as the most urgent business here was dealt with – Thorin felt admiration for her willingness to put off what she had wished for so dearly in order to help him sort out the troubles here – only to visit, a couple of weeks at most, and then she’d have Gandalf bring her back here. The plan was simple enough, she stated, but given the fact that she was not a wizard and could not lay claim to any magical power, she would require his assistance. And because bringing her here was apparently child’s play to him, she had no doubt that he would be up to the task.

All the while detailing her demands – which were only barely disguised as a polite request – her hands were shaking. Nerves, Thorin knew. She knew she had the right to ask this of him after everything he had put her – and, in extension, her family – through, but she was afraid he would refuse. Thorin had seen her like this before, when she had tried so hard to hold her own against people who didn’t want to listen. To an outsider, she looked confident, but Thorin had spent months travelling with her; he knew her better than that now. And so he grasped her hand in silent support.

And he felt like a fool for not remembering the promise that had been made to her, one that she clung to. Her family, the people she would give up for him. She had been wanting to see them so badly, and now the quest was at an end, she had done everything she had been asked to do and more and here she was, asking for that one thing that had been kept from her. And he had been so caught up in his own world, blinded by his own grief, that he had completely overlooked Kate’s wish for home. And Mahal knew she wished for it as strongly as Thorin wished for his. And now that the fear of her leaving permanently had been abated, he supported her wish. He owed her that.

And then the wish was squashed.

‘That is impossible.’ The wizard looked remorseful, even though it was hard to tell for sure, but he also sounded stern, as if this was not up for discussion.

Kate’s eyes flashed. ‘I beg your pardon?’ All the insecurity was gone now, and she was on the warpath. This was Kate Andrews, fighting tooth and nail for what she wanted. Thorin had engaged in too many a battle of wits with her not to recognise the signs.

He himself only felt confusion. What in Mahal’s name was the wizard thinking?

That too was explained soon enough, but in hindsight he could not quite remember what the exact wording of the reply had been. His eyes were fixed on Kate’s face, that fell ever further the longer the wizard carried on. A There and Back Again spell was what he called the magic that had torn her from her own world and dragged her into this one. She could go back, he explained as if he was a patient old grandfather, but once she was there, the road to Middle Earth would be closed to her. There were words of how that worked, but Thorin was no magician; he didn’t understand most of them, and either way his attention was focused on the woman who looked more and more as if she had lost all hope. The fight went right out of her.

And it was downright frightening to see. Thorin had seen Kate fight as long as there was the slightest chance that what she wanted was possible. _She believes the wizard’s words_. Because if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be standing here, looking as lost as Thorin had ever seen her. For a woman of Men, her grip on his hand was tight, another sign that she was not her usual self.

‘You mean to say that she can either return there and never come back, or stay here and never see her kin again?’ Given Kate’s current speechlessness, Thorin took it upon himself to speak on her behalf.

For his part, the wizard seemed genuinely sorry for the message he delivered. All the same, Thorin, who had never felt very kindly towards the old man, found it quite impossible to forgive him for putting Kate in such an impossible position. He didn’t think Kate would leave – even if the seed of doubt was trying its hardest to convince him otherwise – but it was a hard thing all the same.

Next to him, Kate was falling apart. ‘That’s it?’ Her voice rose, but she didn’t seem to care that all could hear. ‘You’re sorry? You’re bloody _sorry_? What the hell am I supposed to make of _that_?’

Thorin hadn’t thought it possible for her to grasp his hand even tighter than she had already, but she managed it. That was anger again, but it was different this time. This was the anger that masked what she was truly feeling. Briefly he reflected on the development that he now could read her as well as she seemed to read him, but he dismissed it as irrelevant at the moment.

‘I truly am sorry for this,’ the wizard said. He sounded it, too. But his regret changed nothing. ‘It was never my intention that this should happen.’ Given how they had defied every custom ever invented, that was probably true as well.

‘That _what_ should happen?’ Kate had remembered to keep relatively silent, so she resorted to hissing instead. ‘That Thorin and I would fall in love? That I might want to stay? And don’t even try to sell me that crap that you never saw this coming. You were with us for so long and even you can’t have been as oblivious as to miss out on the company gossip. And you never even thought to warn me?!’ She was trembling now. With rage or fear or both, Thorin could not say. He assumed the last option.

Gandalf felt clearly attacked now, as well he should. He raised himself to his full height, positively towering over just about every other person currently in the tent. ‘Miss Andrews, I don’t think…’

Kate cut him off. ‘Believe me, I have found _that_ out long ago.’

She wriggled her hand out of Thorin’s and for just a moment he thought that she was going to hit him. Mahal knew that, even though Gandalf may have the best interests of Middle Earth in mind, he would deserve all the violence Kate might inflict on him. This, this was just cruel. She had all that hope, and now it was taken from her. He remembered a conversation they’d had during the quest, about how she was torn in half between longing to be home and wanting to remain where she was. They thought they solved the problem, but it had been a delusion.

Kate didn’t hit the wizard, even if she had to clench her hands into fists to prevent her from making good on that obvious wish. ‘You stay here,’ she ordered. ‘Don’t you dare move. Don’t you bloody well dare!’ The last few words came out in a snarl.

Then she practically fled the tent.

***

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see. Tears were obscuring her vision, so Kate made her way to the exit of the tent almost blindly, on instinct, unaware of whether there were other people in her way or not. If there were, then they had the good sense to get out of her way. Had she been in any other mood, she might have been grateful for small mercies. As it was, there was no room in her head for anything other than the news Gandalf had imparted on her with all his usual lack of tact.

_Stay here and never go home._

_Go home and never come back here._

And how the hell was she ever supposed to make that bloody impossible choice? Her hands were sweaty – and trembling like some useless leaf in a hurricane – but she was chilled to the bone. The temperature outside had absolutely nothing to do with that.

Her thoughts were in disarray, tears burning behind her eyes. She tried to hold them back; this place was crawling with people, dwarves among them, and if she was going to be their queen, then it wouldn’t do for them to see her cry, to see her weak. Goodness knew they disliked her more than enough as it was.

The thought stopped her dead in her tracks. What was she even going on about having a choice? She had none. And it became clear to her now. Her own thoughts had pointed out to her that she was thinking as though she was staying here, to be Queen under the thrice-cursed Mountain, for all the good it may do her.

Because what other option was there? She could leave, yes, go home, see her family again, and then what? Raise a half-dwarven child in a world where his father’s race did not exist? What kind of a life would that be? Kate wasn’t even sure that leaving Thorin was a viable option anyway. She loved him, there was no denying that, not when the result of that love was currently growing in her womb. But even if there was no Thorin to consider, no child, then what would she go back to? She’d live in a world that she knew, true enough, but that had no idea what she had been through here, that could not possibly understand what her life had been like.

But Thorin was here, and her pregnancy was a fact. There was no leaving. Even if she left the whole love element out of it, and looked at with cold calculation – something that was made infinitely easier by the realisation that it would be one or the other and never ever both – then leaving would be nigh on impossible. The people here believed her to be Thorin’s wife, and neither had done anything to deny those rumours. In fact, they had encouraged them, as a way to protect her on the road and later, here before the gates of Erebor, as a way for them to make their opponents take her seriously. Leaving now would make a liar of Thorin and then where would he be, where would Durin’s Folk be?

 _I cannot ever leave_.

The realisation crashed over her like a tsunami, leaving her unable to remain standing. Blindly she found her way to a relatively empty spot in between two obliging rocks, somewhat away from all the hustle and bustle of the camp. She couldn’t say which route she had taken and how she had gotten to where she was now, and she didn’t care. Even the dull ache in her thigh had ceased to be of any importance. There was only a desperate need to get out of there, to be alone and to let out the tears that could not be held back, not anymore. She surrendered to the sobs, wrapping her arms around herself as if she might fall apart if she didn’t hold herself together.

In the end, she didn’t even know what she was grieving for. The loss of a family to be sure, the loss of the hope she held onto for so very long and that was now taken from her with just a few simple words. She could not even remember exactly how Gandalf had phrased it. Something about a There and Back Again spell, she thought she’d heard. He’d explained, she thought. How people were not meant to jump from world to world. There were limitations. And it was one of those very limitations – whoever the hell had though those up; she’d really like a word with them – that was blowing her clever plan right out of the water.

And so she wept for lost family, and for family wounded, but still clinging to life, and for Kíli, who hadn’t been her family, but whose quick smile and teasing she already missed. If he’d been here, he would have said something so wholly inappropriate by now that she would have slapped him even as her tears were drying and she would be fighting back a somewhat watery smile. But Kíli wasn’t here and smiles were in very short supply.

Company, however, was not.

‘My lady?’ Incredulity was lying on the words three inches thick.

Bugger. Kate brushed away the tears and sent as stern a glare in the direction of Lord Dáin as she could. Of all the people the find her, of course it had to be the one she wanted to see least. No, that was not entirely true. She wanted to see Thranduil even less.

‘I am sure there is something you could be doing somewhere, Lord Dáin,’ she said. ‘I am not in need of company.’

 _Get away, get away from me!_ She wanted to shout at someone, but she couldn’t. She was supposed to be the queen, the woman who had managed to organise the dwarven forces back there like she had been born to do so. After all her taking care not to be seen when she took a moment to just cry her eyes out – and with very good reason, too – here he was, clearly very shocked to see her in such a state. _I must look like a girl to him, wallowing in undeserved self-pity_. And she hated that. _He knows nothing!_

‘Are you well?’ he asked, not unkindly.

 _No, I’m not bloody all right_ , she thought venomously. But she couldn’t say that, so she settled on a not entirely truthful: ‘I am well enough.’ Physically she was just fine, well, apart from that cut, but that meant nothing now. Not even the maddening itch could distract her now.

‘I see,’ Dáin said. Kate had the very unpleasant feeling he understood more than she liked.

‘You are free to carry on with your duties, Lord Dáin,’ she said a little more forcefully. ‘Unless there was something urgent you wished to discuss with me?’ Subtlety didn’t work on dwarves, but one would be thick-skulled indeed if the message behind her words would not have landed. She didn’t think Dáin was that dim.

He wasn’t. ‘Very well.’ And at least he turned and left.

Kate leaned back, staring up at the sky. The river of tears had ended, forced back by the need to face Dáin without looking like a heartbroken teenage girl – trying to look like was probably more like it – and now they wouldn’t come anymore. Her eyes were drying, but her grief was not. Maybe she was beyond tears now. Kate couldn’t tell and what did it matter anyway? Would crying help her to get home again? The answer was no, because she was never going to see home ever again.

_Dear God, what am I to do?_

The obvious answer was to run back inside that tent and, providing that Gandalf had done what he had been told, slap that pathetic excuse for a wizard across the face. Heaven knew he earned it. Never once had he warned her, but he must have known. He must have known where Thorin and she were headed. The rest of the company had seen it long before Thorin and Kate had acknowledged it. She simply refused to believe that Gandalf had been so oblivious that he hadn’t noticed. Not that he had meant for this to happen when he brought her here, she believed him when he said that, but he had not exactly discouraged her either. Bloody wizard, bloody magic. And at least it was easy to lay blame on his doorstep instead of on her own. Because if she did that, she would have to admit that she had never asked about it either, and right now she only wanted someone to blame. Someone who wasn’t her.

_What am I going to do?_

_Stay_. Well, obviously. She had established that there really was no other choice to be made. But could she do that? Could she leave her family like this? They may or may not believe her dead by now, but she knew there would never be a body. How could there be when she was here? And they would need closure. It was what she herself would want if she had been in their shoes.

‘You all right, lass?’

What was it with people and their inability to just leave her be for one bloody hour? She turned a glare at Dwalin that should have killed him on the spot. ‘Fine,’ she snarled. _Now leave_.

‘Dáin said you were weeping.’ He must have gotten the underlying message in her fine, but he chose to ignore it. Either that or it had somehow sounded like an invitation to join her on the floor.

 _Dáin with his iron foot and his thicker-than-I-expected-skull._ ‘I told Dáin to leave me be,’ she snapped. Well, she had, more or less. ‘I’ll be back soon enough if there’s anything you wanted me for.’

Dwalin just sat himself down, which was decidedly not what she had in mind. ‘Is it Balin?’ he asked worriedly.

Of course he would think that was what was wrong, and Kate cursed herself for a fool for not realising that. ‘Balin will be perfectly all right,’ she said. ‘Just some cuts that will heal just fine given a bit of time. He was awake and talking when I saw him last.’ _And now that your worry has been abated, would you mind getting the hell out of here?_

‘Then what has you weeping, Kate?’ The question was almost gentle and the fact that he actually used her name should have very near shocked her. He must think she was some delicate female. And there was no point in denying that she had been crying; her eyes would give her away.

 _It’s none of your business._ That was what she had meant to say, but she was shocked at hearing what came out. ‘I can’t go home, not ever again.’

It was because they’d had this discussion before, Kate would reflect later, about what should be done with this situation that she had never expected to find herself in. Dwalin was the grand architect of the plan that Gandalf had dismissed as impossible. That must be why all of a sudden it all came out, everything, from Tauriel’s rather blunt announcement that she was expecting to Gandalf’s equally blunt news that he could not send her home and then bring her back here again. By the end of the tale, her hands were shaking anew and the tears had found their way back to her eyes.

To her surprise Dwalin neither scoffed nor laughed at her. He just sat and listened. When the words finally ended, he kept quiet, thinking. Kate could not for the life of her tell what he was thinking. It was Thorin’s prerogative to guess his friend’s thoughts, not hers. As far as she was aware, Dwalin had never been a friend of hers either. What reason would he have to help her now, especially after she had snapped at him?

‘You could write a letter.’

The silence had dragged on for so long that Kate had not expected him to speak. In truth, it was becoming slightly awkward, sitting here, saying nothing. It made her long for appropriate words to fill the air with, but she couldn’t think of good ones. And so Dwalin’s words had come completely out of the blue.

‘A letter?’ In her surprise she stupidly echoed the last two words back at him.

‘That’s how he got you here, the wizard?’ Dwalin clarified. ‘Sending you a note? Reckon that if he could do that once, he could do it again.’

There was sense in such a plan. It would at least give her family the closure they longed for. They would know that she was alive and healthy – Kate didn’t dare use the word happy, not yet – and the wizard would have absolutely no bloody right to refuse sending it for her. He owed her that at the very least.

On the other hand it would only be a letter, a very poor substitute for herself. And it didn’t change the fact that she would not see any of her loved ones – her mother, Jacko, Jane, Laura, Anna… the list went on and on – ever again. What would she even write to them? _Hello everyone, I got kidnapped by Gandalf the Grey to aid the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and I am not coming back._ She cringed just to think it, never mind putting a pen to paper and writing it. It was stupid. No, worse than that, it was insane.

And she was just about to say that to Dwalin, but a new thought stopped her from doing it. _If not that, then what? You don’t exactly have a list of options to choose from, Andrews._

There were days she hated common sense. Today was one of those days. The only thing she wanted to do was shout at the world that had wronged her, that decreed that she had to choose. She could not have both. And in the light of that, Gandalf’s explanation of why it had to be this way did not even matter. The bottom line was that she would never see her home again. Not ever.

 _You are a queen now_ , she reminded herself. _You can’t give in to your emotions._ No matter how much she wanted to scream and weep. No matter how badly she wanted to hit Dwalin for coming up with such a sensible plan. Why did everyone have to be so bloody sensible when she wanted to throw a tantrum because it was just so _unfair_ anyway?

But she didn’t scream and weep. She didn’t hit Dwalin. Instead she nodded. ‘I’ll need some things from my bag,’ she said. ‘Would you mind finding someone to get it?’

It felt as if she was giving up, and Kate Andrews didn’t like the sound of that one bit. But then, what else could she do?

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _If I’d had my way, I’d have knocked the wizard down with his own staff by now. How could he have done this to me? It’s not fair, damn it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for letting things slide for so long. Combination of having a bit of a writer's block and my slight argument with the site's text editor have caused the delay. Anyway, I'm back now.  
> As always, reviews would be much appreciated.


	89. Letter to Home

_It was a heavy blow. Let’s just leave it at that, my dears. It is one of those things that remains hard to talk about, no matter how many years have passed since. The hurt stays. It dulls at times, and it becomes easier to bear, but it is like missing a tooth; you keep sticking your tongue in the hole._

_You know, I never asked Gandalf for more clarification. I never asked him why he was unable to send me home and then get me back again. Why, you may wonder. At the moment itself I simply think I couldn’t bear it, to have my face rubbed in all the reasons for why I would not see my family again. It hurt too much. Later, when the rage had cooled a little, and I could think and act a little more rationally again, I simply did not ask because it wouldn’t change a thing. Gandalf was a wizard, who knew more about magic than I can ever hope to comprehend. If he said it was an impossibility, then who was I to contradict him? And I did not think he was lying. He genuinely seemed sorry for the position I was in. Not that his regret did anything to lessen my anger towards him at the time, mind._

_Which is not to say that Gandalf the Grey is not a good man. I think he is, as a matter of fact. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he has the best interests of Middle Earth at heart, and he would rather die than let some evil force take over. And that is not just book knowledge, that is first-hand experience. And I admire him for that._

_But that is just it, my dears. Gandalf does what needs to be done for the greater good. And although I will never fault him for that – it is good that somebody does – it sometimes means that minorities get hurt in the pursuit of this greater good. It is the way of life, and I will not dispute that. I’ve seen too much in my lifetime to hold onto a childish belief that every adventure ends in a happy ending, chiming bells and flowers all around._

_And I was one of those persons who didn’t get all the things mentioned above. I was a pawn in a much greater game and, even though Gandalf never actually confirmed it, I played my part in it well enough. But at a cost. Don’t mistake my meaning, my dears, I have been happy and no, I do not regret the choices I have made. It doesn’t mean I’ve always been happy, not all the while. There were hard times and the time after the Battle of the Five Armies was one of the toughest I’ve faced. So when Gandalf delivered his news, it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back._

_And that determined how I thought about the wizard for the rest of my life. Rationally, I know that he is a good man who would lay down his life in the service of Middle Earth, but that does not have to mean that I have to like him personally. Deep down I don’t think I have ever really stopped blaming him for all that he put me through. That does not mean I resent the life I have in Erebor, but loving life here does not exclude missing the family I’ll never see again back in my own world._

_It is complicated, and there are no easy answers. There have been so many times that I wished they could have met you. My mother would have doted on you, Jacko would have spoiled you rotten. Not sure I’d want to inflict my father on you, though; you have been much more fortunate in that department than I have been._

_But they live in another world, and that is information I am only now disclosing to you. My place of origin is one of the best kept secrets in Middle Earth, if I may say so. For a time it was much easier when people asked. I came from a village in the far west that hardly anyone had ever even heard of. It meant that not too many questions were asked. There are a select few who know, and most of them reacted with the utmost incredulity when told. And really, would you believe it if you didn’t know me as you do?_

_That day after the Battle of the Five Armies, there were still very few who knew, and I had deal with the very urgent matter at hand…_

 

Silence reigned supreme after Kate had made her escape. It would be impossible to mistake it for anything else. Thorin knew that she had done her best to contain her emotions in public, but she had never quite mastered the amount of self-control Thorin had. Kate Andrews was impulsive, but she was also angered and heartbroken, and that had never been the best combination.

And she had every reason to be so, Thorin knew. At first he had not understood why she had been so nervous; what reason could Gandalf have to refuse her after he had made a promise to her that he would bring her back after the quest had been done? But then he had explained to her that the plan she’d had in mind was impossible, and he had seen her face fall as her hopes plummeted. Impossible. The wizard did not seem unwilling to keep his word and send her back, but that would mean she could never come back.

Indignant on her behalf he turned on Gandalf. ‘You did not think to warn her?’ It was the same tone of voice he reserved for his enemies. Strictly speaking the grey wizard would not be counted among those, but he was not a true friend either. True friends did not do this.

‘I did not believe Miss Andrews needed warning,’ the wizard retorted, blatantly ignoring the previous rebuke to no longer address her as such. ‘She knew the risks.’

‘She did not know this,’ Balin pointed out. He may be abed and injured, but his wits were not dulled. Some found it hard to look beyond the friendly face and failed to see the clever diplomat and passionate dwarf behind it. Thorin wasn’t one of those and he knew that his friend was not to be trifled with. ‘She did not know that she would have to choose one or the other.’

Except that she had known. It had been about choices from the start and Thorin was aware that she had struggled with it for most of the journey, and even after. Mostly she had struggled in silence, making no one privy to the dilemma she faced, but on a few occasions. She had known that she would have to make a choice between her old life and her new. She had only hoped to say goodbye to those she loved, which was the condition on which she entered their engagement to begin with. And now that was being denied to her.

Would that be enough to sway her mind?

‘Excuse me,’ he said, getting up and marching out of the tent as fast as his leg was prepared to carry him. The pace which qualified these days as _fast as he could_ would be laughable under any other circumstance. If Thranduil or, Mahal forbid, Erland saw him like that, they would assume that he was too weak to rule. And they would be right. His body was too weak, even if his mind was as sharp as it had always been.

Neither Balin nor Gandalf called him back and for that at least he was grateful. He did not want to talk to them. It felt wrong to doubt Kate, but he did it all the same. He himself would place family above all else. It was one of the reasons that, even though he had been angry at her eagerness to leave during the quest itself, he could never truly fault her for that desire. Family should come first, because it meant everything. In that respect they had always been remarkably alike. And when it came to a straight choice between him or her family, he was not at all certain which she would choose above the other.

 _So, let me get this straight: you’re asking me to give up every chance of a normal life, give up all my friends and family and enter into a society that may spit on me because of who I am, all to be with you?_ That was what she had said when he had proposed to her. And for her it was a lot to ask. She’d have to give up everything she had ever held dear to be in a world that did not truly welcome her. It would be a strange choice to make. How many would even do that?

 _It is what I feared would happen, torn in half. Right now I am not even sure where I belong._ She had said that too, doubting her choice to stay in Middle Earth. Thorin had told her that she belonged here. The _with me_ had been unspoken, but he had a feeling Kate had heard it all the same. Kate had neither confirmed nor denied. She had sidestepped the remark with practised ease. It was enough for that small seed of doubt to remain and make itself at home. He did not know what she would choose and it terrified him more than he would ever show to anyone, although it was highly likely that Balin knew all the same.

He wandered aimlessly about the camp, not knowing where he was going, if he was even going anywhere. His legs would not carry him for much longer, but he was too restless to sit down. While he moved, he at least could fool himself into thinking he was doing something. Sitting down would shatter that illusion.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’

He was snapped out of his ever more gloomy thoughts by the voice of the very woman he had been contemplating. When he turned around, it was to see her approaching with a minor limp that did nothing to draw his attention away from the exasperated irritation that was written all over her face. Neither did it stop him from noticing how red and swollen her eyes were.

‘What in the name of sanity are you doing?’ she exclaimed.

‘Kate,’ he acknowledged.

He had meant for that to make her stop, but he ought to have known better by now. ‘Shame Óin is stuck in a bed or he would have tied you to one. You’re not even supposed to be walking.’

Thorin ignored that. ‘How are you?’ Giving words to his emotions and concern would never come easy to him; it was a struggle in its own right to make his mouth form the words, but he had to try. And somehow it was easier to do with a woman like Kate, who didn’t bare her soul very easily either.

‘Truth be told, I feel like crap.’ Kate’s directness in combination with the simmering anger he detected underneath it confirmed to him that she meant it. ‘And I haven’t quite gotten over the need to punch the wizard in the face. Heaven knows he deserves it, but we probably can’t afford to alienate him. We might need him for when Thranduil and his merry men come making demands again.’

There was a flippancy in her tone that the King under the Mountain was rather familiar with. Kate used it whenever she was feeling something that she was intent on hiding from him and the world in general. It was usually hurt. Thorin’s chosen approach was silent anger or icy disapproval, Kate’s was flippancy or a fiery outburst of anger. Thorin’s was silence, Kate’s was words.

It was only when he had acknowledged this that he realised that what she had been saying was in fact maybe even more important at the moment. _We might need him for when Thranduil and his merry men come making demands again_. We. She had said we in reference to something that would take place in the future.

Dare he even hope?

‘You are not leaving?’ Had four words ever been harder to say?

For a moment silence reigned supreme. Kate stared at him, jaw dropping and eyes wide as saucers. Then he was smacked hard across the face.

‘You complete and utter arse.’

Kate Andrews did not shout, nor did she hiss. There was however no mistaking the anger blazing in her eyes. Thorin even thought that there was something akin to hurt underneath the anger – there almost always was when she was as angry as to make matters physical – but it was hard to be sure. The sting of the blow was easy to ignore; her strength was no great thing to be reckoned with. But it were the words and look that accompanied this rather drastic measure that made him stop.

‘You really thought that after all those bloody vows I took, I was just going to run off into the blue, didn’t you?’ She kept her voice low, presumably to not make more of a spectacle than they already were making. Thorin was suddenly all too uncomfortably aware that they were standing in broad daylight in a busy encampment, the occupants of which were suddenly rather interested in the two of them. He had no doubt though that to Kate they did not exist right now.

There was no denial with which he could meet that accusation, not if he was truthful. And so, rather than to confirm her suspicion in words, he kept his silence.

Kate did a step back as if he had been the one to hit her rather than the other way around as she quickly deciphered the meaning of his lack of a reply. ‘You really did. God help us all, you really did.’ She let out a bark of laughter that was so utterly devoid of mirth that it only sounded bitter. ‘How could you? How could you even think I’d throw you over as soon as the first misfortune hit? Have you such a lowly opinion of me after all and did I just never notice? Or is this a recent development I mysteriously missed out on?’

But she was wrong. Yes, she had seen that he feared her departure, but then she had gone and jumped to all the wrong conclusions. And he had to set her right on that. ‘You would be placing your own family first,’ he said, hoping that he could at least this once conjure the right words to cool her wrath. ‘How could I fault you for that?’

That gave her pause. Before he had spoken she seemed intent on creating as much of a scene as she could cause, but his words actually achieved their goal of silencing her. They also seemed to make her aware of where they were and how this must look to the curious eyes now eagerly noting their every action.

‘Bloody hell,’ she muttered. ‘Out of here now. You need to sit and I need something to eat before I keel over dead. Now.’

Thorin briefly contemplated the use of protesting and then decided against it. He would not make a habit out of obeying Kate’s orders, but his leg did hurt like Smaug had fallen on it all over again and he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could remain upright, never mind walk. They had given the crowds enough of a show already; they’d have a field day if he actually fell over. And then it was only a matter of time before someone would whisper of this in the wrong ears and he would be seen as weak by everyone who had any power in this world. And Thorin Oakenshield had no tolerance for weakness, especially when it was his own.

And so he followed Kate to the nearest tent, which happened to be occupied by two young men engaged in a game of dice.

‘I would imagine that, this being the day after a major battle, you would have better means to occupy your time than wasting it on meaningless games.’ Kate’s icy tone of voice was in rather sharp contrast with the fiery outburst at least half of the camp must have just witnessed.

One of them, a youth with mere stubble for a beard, did not seem particularly impressed. ‘And who are you then that you think you have the right to lecture us? You’re pretty enough, I’ll grant you. Take your clothes off and you can join us.’

Thorin was seeing red. What they were suggesting was inappropriate to any woman of any race – and he openly sneered at the way some of the mannish people treated their womenfolk – but this was his own wife they were insulting. He strode forwards and grabbed the lad by the collar. ‘She is the Queen under the Mountain,’ he growled, resisting the urge to let go of the collar in order to fasten his hands around the neck and squeeze. ‘Now leave us before I will have your head for your insolence.’

The colour drained from the boy’s face when he realised the colossal mistake he had just made. He muttered an almost inaudible apology – Thorin assumed it was an apology anyway – and then he and his friend made for the exit so fast they almost tripped over their own feet in their haste.

Kate merely rolled her eyes at him. ‘You know that discussion we had once, the one about me wanting to fight my own battles? I meant that.’

It was one of those things that they were unlikely to ever agree on. And it was good to know that in this fight at least he had an ally to count on. ‘Dori would not have stood for it any more than I did.’

Kate snorted. ‘And Dori is a worried mother hen who should get a life of his own instead of meddling in the lives of his siblings. Sit, will you? You look dead on your feet and if you fall, I do not have the strength to carry you to the nearest bed.’

Thorin managed a wry smile at that. ‘You have spent too much time in your brother’s company.’

Kate settled for a glare, but it was a milder variety than the withering looks she tended to send his way when she was truly riled. ‘If both Nori and you say it, then it must be true. Sit down, will you? I’m starting to think Thora had the right of it; she should have tied you to a bed.’

Rather displeased with hearing that she was taking the side of that chattering excuse for a healer, Thorin thought it wise to change the subject. ‘I did not doubt you.’

‘You have a very funny way of showing that.’ Kate clearly did not buy this. ‘You as good as told me you’re afraid I’ll go and leave you.’ She had gotten to the heart of the matter in mere seconds, even though he’d never said. It was scary in its own way how easy it seemed to be for her to guess what he was thinking. ‘And the next thing you tell me is that you don’t blame me for wanting to go home, but you’re still afraid I’ll go.’ She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. ‘And what the hell am I supposed to make of that? These mixed signals are giving me a bloody headache.’ She rubbed her forehead and added in a mutter: ‘Not that I wasn’t already in the process of developing one before, mind. Your lords are making a bloody nuisance out of themselves.’

But Thorin didn’t rise to the bait. He knew a distraction when he saw one. It was obvious that she did not want to talk about whatever it was that was troubling her, but it needed to be talked about all the same.

‘You will not leave?’ he asked. It wasn’t what he wanted to ask, but it was what came out of his mouth. Was he so weak now that he needed that confirmation? It was a good thing no one else was here to witness it.

Kate smiled wryly. ‘I was never going to leave, was I? I was just deluding myself.’ The words were hard and cynical. Sarcasm suited her, but cynicism was something utterly alien in Kate, wrong. She got up and began to pace, clearly taking no notice of the limp that was slowing her down. ‘I just kept telling myself I could go back home, right from the very start. I told myself I could go back if I didn’t form any attachments. Which didn’t work out as planned. But I still thought that, even though I wriggled my way deeper into this world and its people, deeper into the schemes and intrigues and lies to keep us all alive, I still thought I could go back home and everything would be as it was.’

‘You can go home,’ Thorin pointed out. Not that he would want her to. It would hurt too badly to contemplate, but he would not think less of her if she did. Duty to kin always came first, before any other vow she’d made. She could go back to where she came from; the chance was there for her to take it.

She spun around. ‘Go home? To what?’

The question took him by surprise, but there was only one right answer. ‘To your family.’

Kate snorted her disagreement. ‘To my family? Yes, that too, I’d imagine.’

‘What else?’ He did not understand. He’d thought she would at the very least be tempted by the idea. What could possibly make her disregard the idea altogether? And in such a manner?

‘I’d go home to a world in which I have been missing for the better part of a year,’ she replied. ‘Questions would be asked, and I would never be able to answer them truthfully. Why? Because if I did tell them I lived through a famous novel for real, they’d declare me mad and lock me away for a good many years. And even if they did not, then what kind of life would our child have there? A half dwarven baby in a world where dwarves are limited to the realm of fairy tales? Your kind lives longer than mine, is different in build, in nature. Even with human blood, how would he or she ever be supposed to fit in?’

Thorin had the feeling that this rant had been months in coming. It was long since he had seen her so distressed. And he knew, like few others, how it was to lose everything. And he had lost it against his will, had been fighting tooth and nail to hang on to what he had. In that way it would be harder for the company advisor, who was giving it all up of her own free will, who made a conscious decision to let go of her loved ones, never to see them again in this life. He felt admiration for that, but also strangely hurt on her behalf.

‘And I want to go back, I so badly want to go back and see them and hold them and never let them go again for as long as I live, and I _can’t_.’ Her hands were shaking now and there was a tremor in her voice.

‘Why?’ he asked simply.

It earned him another one of her beloved glares. ‘Are you as stupid as you are hairy or is that just my imagination?’

Thorin treated this like the rhetorical question that it was and did not deem it worthy of a reply.

Kate carried on regardless. ‘What would happen here if I did?’ she demanded. ‘Everyone believes that we are married, especially now that there is a child on the way. What would they think if the Queen under the bloody Mountain just disappeared, ran off like a thief in the night? They’d know it for the clever lie that it was at the time and it would leave your authority in shatters on the floor. Who would ever believe you, who would ever follow you again? King Thorin the Liar? Good grief, all hell would break loose.’ She chewed her bottom lip. ‘And heaven help me, but part of me doesn’t want to leave. I love you, you know, idiocy and enormous ego and all.’

It was the way Kate Andrews did things; speaking words of affection and insult at the same time, but he knew that for what it was, too. It was only because she found it hard to speak of emotions that would leave her vulnerable. But this he only knew because he suffered the same affliction.

And there was only one answer he could give to that, pull her into his arms and hold her the moment the last of her self-control slipped away and she succumbed to tears, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. Truth be told, Thorin was not the best person to deal with such matters, but it was one of those things that he could not in all good decency leave to someone else. And at least he knew better than to tell her that it would all work out in the end, because he was fairly certain that they would not work out in the slightest. Not in the way that was satisfactory for everyone, least of all for Kate herself.

So they were silent. It was what worked for them anyway.

Eventually the sobs subsided, even though she still clung to him as if her very life depended on it.

‘What will you do now?’ Thorin asked. He would advise her if she asked, but he also felt that in this case he had no right whatsoever to influence her decisions. They should be hers and hers alone.

‘Writing a letter.’ Kate still sounded shaky, but the anger was resurfacing as well, a clear sign that she was pulling herself together, something Thorin was perhaps a little too grateful for. ‘Dwalin’s idea, to be honest. He reckoned that if Gandalf could send me a note to get me to Middle Earth, he can send through a letter as well.’ She snorted. ‘And he’d better do it if he knows what is good for him.’

Thorin made a mental note to himself to ensure that this letter was sent. ‘I would imagine that his pipe in the river would be the very least of his worries should he try to oppose you.’

His reply had the effect he had been hoping for; Kate made a noise that with some imagination could pass for a chuckle. ‘Only the start of his problems, more like. At least we know that he can actually do this, seeing as he has done it before.’ She sighed and then stepped out of his embrace. ‘Dwalin was going to get someone to get my bag. They should be back any minute now.’

And she did not want him here when she wrote her goodbyes. She did not say it, but he heard the message all the same.

He nodded. ‘I will have a word with Dáin about the arrangements that were made.’ He needed a good pretext to leave. Not that he intended to talk to his cousin yet. There was a wizard that needed to be convinced to send a letter to another world. Kate was right; they could not alienate him yet and in her current state Kate herself might not have the necessary patience to deal with him.

‘You should be sitting down,’ Kate muttered. ‘Not running around here, there and everywhere.’

‘This is not the time to sit down,’ he reminded her sternly. There was too much to do.

Kate sighed. ‘You’re not wrong there,’ she agreed reluctantly. ‘But heaven forbid that you do what needs to be done from a chair or something.’ He thought he heard her adding under her breath that Óin would surely agree with her, but he could not be certain.

Fortunately he didn’t need to get into another argument with her, because the tent flap was pushed open to let Dwalin through. ‘There you go, lass.’ He threw her a bag, which Kate caught only just before it fell to the ground. ‘You weren’t easy to find, but then I heard a few terrified mannish lads complaining about a dwarvish brute who’d lost his temper after they’d made a few “harmless” remarks to the lady accompanying him. Wasn’t hard to find you after that.’

Thorin had to fight back a satisfied smirk.

Kate ignored it. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

To Thorin’s surprise Dwalin managed something of a smile in return. ‘Just remind me to never ask your brother to do something.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘I do hope you mean Dori and not Nori. Or am I likely to find my bag stripped of its contents?’

‘Nah, I was only very near nagged to death,’ Dwalin said. ‘Acted like it was my fault that wizard lacks the magic to do as he should.’

The smile on Kate’s face widened a little. ‘Don’t tell me he’s actually gone off to lecture Gandalf himself after you finally landed the point home that it was his fault rather than yours?’

‘That he did.’ Dwalin too was smiling. That was a novelty indeed. Dwalin never smiled much, and certainly not at Kate Andrews. Except it seemed that he did now.

Thorin had the amusing mental image of Dori standing in front of a wizard nearly twice his size, wagging his finger in disapproval. _Now, see here…_ He had to stop there, because the corners of his own mouth were in immediate danger of curling up.

‘Saves me the need to talk to him and box his ears,’ Kate agreed. She was looking at the bag in her hands and this time Thorin did not need words to know what she wanted.

‘We have things to do,’ he announced.

***

 _We have things to do_ was only an excuse to get out and leave her to do what needed to be done, Kate knew. Thorin had the subtlety of a brick, but since that seemed to be a particularly dwarvish trait, she could hardly blame him personally. And he was right anyway; she needed to do this on her own. It did not make her task any easier. To be honest, she dreaded it. Signing her old life away like that, part of her mind insisted that she had officially lost it if she was even considering really doing this.

_But what other option is there? I’m in this too deep. And I love him. Heaven help me, but I do._

And that meant that leaving was out of the question. This letter was a compromise, an outcome she did not at all like, but it needed to be done all the same. And under the given circumstances, she could not hope for anything better to come her way. That was the truth of it, and she would have to deal with it. No other way about it.

But at least she could postpone the writing of the letter itself for just a little longer. There were other things she had to sort out first. Over the course of their journey she had started keeping something of a diary. Well, if one counted letters written to an absent twin brother that could never be sent – she thought then – as a diary, then yes, a diary it was. But they were letters home. That was how they had been intended when they were written. She might as well send them now with the one she had to write anyway. A bit late, but that was not her fault.

 _More like that bloody wizard’s fault_ , she thought venomously.

She did not hate him, not really, she decided as she helped herself to a nearby empty wooden box in which she deposited months’ worth of letters. She disliked him. She was angry with him. But it was hard to truly hate a man when you knew that he never ever intended for her to get hurt, when he only ever had the best interests of this world in mind. But because of this, she would never be able to truly like him either. Too much had happened for that.

_Some people are easier to like as characters in a book than in real life and there’s the truth of it._

She sorted the letters in chronological order and then stopped to look at her handiwork. There were dozens of them, written late at night by the light of a campfire, in Rivendell, at Beorn’s, in Lake-town, in the Mountain itself… The story of the quest for Erebor as witnessed by one Kate Andrews. Still, when her family got this, would they believe it to be real? Or would they think this was sent to them by some practical joker with a particularly unamusing sense of humour? What would she think if she was the recipient of such a parcel?

 _I’d think the sender had gone mad_. Plain and simple. What had happened to her belonged to the realm of fantasy. And if she herself, who had been through it all and knew that it was the farthest thing from an illusion it could possibly be, if even she herself could barely wrap her head around it all, then how could she ever expect her family to?

 _With irrefutable evidence_.

The notion was a gift from heaven. She had proof, and not just the proof of her letters, the proof of words. And words were so easy to lie with. _But pictures don’t lie_. And she had made a good deal of them. And there were little films on saved on the memory card of her camera as well. Especially Kíli had been delighted to find out such a thing existed and had consequently made so many of them that Kate had lost count.

 _Oh, Kíli_.

She pushed that thought away as she went through her rucksack in order to unearth said memory card. It felt like giving away her own memories, but then, what use would she have for them here? There was no such thing. No computer to load them onto, nowhere she could print them so she could make a photo album. No, they were better used to tell her family the story of what happened here.

It joined the letters in the box.

_And now for the hardest part._

There was not much paper left, but maybe just enough to pen her farewell letter. She’d hate to having to work with parchment and ink. Ori had tried to make her practise with it, but after she had broken some quills, blotted the parchment and mysteriously got her fingers covered in ink, making it look like she had dipped her fingers in the inkwell rather than the quill, he had given her up for a lost cause.

It would be one of those things that she would have to learn. The Queen under the Mountain could not possibly not know how to sign documents and write letters. She could use a scribe, but not always and word would spread. People already thought she was stupid. Kate had no intention of proving them right. But now she had that little luxury of at least being able to say goodbye without stains all over the words. A small mercy only, as she had no idea what she should even write that would not sound horribly insane.

But the letter had to be written and so she hesitantly put pen to paper.

 

_Dear Mum, dear Jacko,_

 

She got stuck after that. How did one even begin such a letter after the customary greeting? It had sounded like such an easy way out when Dwalin had first suggested it. It would hardly take any effort at all. She’d sit down, take a pen and a piece of paper and write her farewells. Who had she been fooling really? There was nothing even remotely easy about this. This might well turn out to be the hardest thing she would ever have to do.

_And here I was thinking I had seen and done it all. More fool me._

A solid ten minutes passed, but no other words found their way onto the paper. It was frustrating beyond measure; words had always been her strength, the one thing she could always rely on to just be there whenever she needed it. Easy as breathing. Except when it came to talking about emotions she did not want to acknowledge. And there were so many of them coursing through her that she did not honestly know where to begin.

First things first, she decided. She could not sit here until the world was remade and Gandalf would surely not wait that long. And she would have to start somewhere. She would have to hope that the words would come to her as she went, as they always did.

 

_As I hardly know where to begin, I suppose that I could always start by telling you that I am not dead. Seeing as you are reading this letter and will have recognised my handwriting – at least I hope you have – that must be rather obvious to you, though. But I’m alive and in good health._

 

So much for a first paragraph. And it had taken her a good five minutes to write it down. Even then it had not come out the way she wanted it to. Kate had meant for her to sound apologetic for the worry she had surely put them through by disappearing as she had. Instead she had gone straight for the flippancy, her usual tactic of evading emotions.

‘You bloody fool, Andrews.’ There were times when thinking it was just not enough; she needed to hear the words. What did she even think she was doing?

There would need to be apologies, she decided. It may not be her fault that she had been dragged into this world against her will and it certainly was not her fault that she had no other choice left but to stay here – the alternative had now been dismissed as both impossible and unthinkable, certainly in the current political situation – but maybe she could have pressured Gandalf into sending a note sooner, to let them know that she was at least alive, if not entirely safe what with orcs, elves and scheming backstabbers in general at large.

Apologies might as well make up the next paragraph.

 

_And I am sorry. I am really very sorry for not making more of an effort to give off a sign of life sooner than now. Truth be told, I do not know if there would even have been a possibility for that, but I feel guilty for not trying harder than I did. But at the time I was trying my hardest to come home to tell you in person that no serious harm had befallen me, and this alternative did not even occur to me. Nevertheless, I am so, so sorry for leaving you in the dark for so long. I would undo it if only I could, but alas, I am no wizard._

 

Apologies sufficiently made, Kate resumed alternating between biting her bottom lip and the back end of her pen. They were bad habits, and she knew it, but she had never been truly able to break them, despite her best intentions. And they always made an appearance when the nerves did. And nervous she was. This was the part she had been dreading to write. In comparison, the previous paragraphs had been child’s play.

 _Get on with it, Andrews. The bloody thing isn’t going to write itself._ There was truth in that and so, hoping for the best she began to write again.

 

_Speaking of wizards and impossibilities brings me to the next matter. You may be wanting to sit down for this bit. Insane though this might sound, I am in another world. Middle Earth, courtesy of that rather pathetic excuse for a wizard called Gandalf the Grey. Yes, that sounds crazy. Heaven knows that it felt like that for a good many weeks before it even started to feel real to me._

_Yes, it sounds crazy, but please bear with me. I do not know how I can convince you that this is not the biggest nonsense you have ever heard in your life or that I am not a practical joker with the worst sense of humour ever born. It is just true. But hopefully you haven’t forgotten what I am like, so give me a little credit, please._

 

Kate stared at the words she had just written. Pathetic. She sounded way too pleading, almost begging for them to believe her. And she did not like the idea of that very much. She’d better scratch it all out and start over.

But it was what she tended to do when she had an important point to make and she needed people to listen. Unattractive trait though it was, it sounded like her and that alone could give some credibility to her words. If she wanted her family be convinced that this was really her and this was all the truth, then she would do better to leave it in.

 

 _Where to start? Well, at the beginning, I suppose. It all began with the brochure for a hiking trip organised by the company called_ Magical Trips _. In hindsight I should probably have realised there was something off with that, but at the time I suspected no such thing. Anyway, I was waiting at the bus stop for the promised bus, which never came. Instead there was a note – and I am still not entirely sure how or when it got there – telling me that my transport wasn’t coming, apologising for the inconvenience and concluding with the wish to see me soon. Next thing I knew there was a whirlwind kind of thing – that wizard has a slight love of theatrics, I am sure – and I was standing in the Shire, in Bilbo Baggins’s house, with Gandalf telling me that he was pleased I could make it._

_It turns out that without knowing I had been employed as advisor to the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to retake Erebor from a bloody fire-breathing monster. Suffice it to say that I was hardly pleased with this turn of events, but there was not much choice at the time. Gandalf made it crystal clear he would only return me home as long as I played my part in his plan._

 

Kate leaned back and audibly groaned. It was hopeless. It looked like something a little girl with an overactive imagination might write, not a grown woman, a soon-to-be queen. And it all sounded so bloody unlikely. What person in their right mind would ever believe a single word she had just written? No one in his senses would. And for that she could not even truly blame them. _I wouldn’t have believed me either._

But because it was all true, she could not bring herself to throw it away and begin again, hoping to what? Make it somehow all so believable that no one would even think to doubt it? _Dream on, Andrews. That is never going to happen_. And didn’t she know it only too well.

 

_Like I said, it sounds completely insane. And if I were the recipient of such a letter, I might have sent the sender of it to the nearest mental asylum I could find without delay or hesitation. Except now I am the sender of such a letter and I am fairly certain I have not lost my wits along the road._

_And I won’t spend pages and pages trying to persuade you. First of all, I don’t have all that much paper left – and I have been reliably informed that I am not to be let near parchment unless I want for disaster to hit – and secondly, most of the paper you’ll find in this box is my account of what happened on the quest. I also included the memory card of my camera, so you can see and decide for yourself if I have turned into a lunatic over the past months._

_Anyway, it is all over now. The dragon is dead, the Mountain reclaimed and the orcs defeated. The battle we know as the Battle of the Five Armies took place only yesterday and here I am, sitting in some tent in the middle of the camp writing this letter to you._

 

She exhaled. This bit sounded more business-like, the way she liked it, but maybe it sounded too unfeeling? Was there even a way to get this right? And it was not as if there had been that many others who had been in the same situation she was in right now.

‘You all right, little sister?’

Kate almost jumped. She swivelled around and sent her most icy glare at Nori. ‘What do you want? Shouldn’t you be looking after your injured toes or something?’

‘Well, you’ve been in here for almost two hours,’ he shrugged, wholly unapologetic. ‘Dori thought you must have fallen asleep in here.’

Had it really been that long already? Good grief, she must have been at it for longer than she had realised. And she had very little result to show for it. It was beyond frustrating. ‘You can go tell him that I haven’t,’ she snapped. Really, she could do without Nori budging in with his clever commentary. She wasn’t in the mood for it.

‘Letter not going so well then?’ Nori either hadn’t gotten the message that she wanted him to leave or he ignored it. Either way he came closer to peek a look into the box, fingers going through the letters folded in it.

‘I’d rather go for another round with Thranduil and Erland at their most difficult,’ she admitted. With something akin to surprise she realised that she was telling the truth. ‘And if I discover that as much as one of those has gone missing, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.’

Nori arched an eyebrow. ‘Why, will you have me thrown in the dungeons, oh my queen?’ He added a mocking bow in her general direction, but at least he left her letters alone.

‘I might,’ she said. ‘Or maybe I’ll just tell Dori and be done with it.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ he said. It was the kind of unspoken rule that, since they hated Dori’s lecturing so much, they’d rather sort their troubles out between them, without any interference from Dori.

‘Try me,’ she retorted. ‘Now, since you’ve seen I’m quite awake, could you please remove yourself from my presence? I have work to do.’

He sent her a wicked grin. ‘Far be it from me to disobey my queen.’

‘I wish I could believe that,’ Kate muttered, but he had already left and he took her chances to delay writing this blasted letter with him. And she had not even gotten to the hardest part yet. ‘I hate this.’

But that didn’t end the need to write this thing and she well knew that.

 

_You may be wondering why I am writing all of this in a letter rather than to tell you in person. The reason for that is as simple as it is infuriating: I am not coming back. That too is thanks to a certain wizard. I intended to come back to let you know I was fine before living out the rest of my days here, but apparently that is out of the question because of the spell he used to get me here in the first place. A There and Back Again spell is what he called it, which, if I understood him correctly, means that I could go back home, but would then be stuck there._

_And that is a problem, because leaving is becoming something of an impossibility. I have become too involved in all the politics around here. People believe certain things about me and if I were to leave… Well, let’s just say that the consequences would be disastrous._

 

Thus far it was all true. But Kate found that lying to herself had never worked; she knew full well that she had not made any mention of the main reason why she was staying. _I would be telling them that I am marrying a character from a book._ And there were limits. She was already asking them to believe so many seemingly impossible things. Mentioning Thorin as her future husband might be just a bridge too far just now.

 _It’s in the other letters,_ she told herself. Their entire story was in those things. And she could probably count on her mother and Jacko reading those. They would know. And then it might just make sense if she was very lucky. Telling them like this, that was just… wrong somehow. Awkward too. Very awkward. They must think she had gone and lost it.

And she cared about what they thought of her, even though she would never even see their faces, never hear their reactions. She did not want for them to think she was crazy. What person would ever want their loved ones to think such things about them?

Still, she was very much aware that the explanation she had given was in no way satisfactory. Too involved in the political situation? That sounded like a poor and rather pathetic excuse, and not something she would be able to get away with.

The solution hit her. The other letters. They were as good as her report of everything that had occurred, but it wasn’t complete yet. The battle itself, Tauriel’s revelation and her clashing with Dáin’s men had gone unmentioned. So she would write another letter in the same vein as all the others to include those things.

It was a huge relief to do that first, to have some respite from that other dreaded letter she still needed to finish, but at least with this one she didn’t feel as if she was fighting against the current every step of the way. It was reassuring in a way to know that her words had not entirely abandoned her. And she knew exactly why this was so much easier. When her mother and Jacko would read this letter as the very last one – she’d make sure it ended up on the bottom of the pile – they would already know everything that had happened to her. Whether or not they believed it would be another matter entirely, but that was something Kate tried not to think about.

But eventually she was done with that letter and the other one still was there, unfinished. _Get a grip and do what you need to do, Andrews. Fretting over it is not going to do you any good._

Recognising that for the truth that it was, she pulled the paper back towards her and battled on.

 

_There is another reason, though. I am pregnant. And there is no way that this particular child would have a chance at a normal life in our world. I would explain it all, but I think the letters I am sending with this one would do a much better and coherent job of it than I could in this one. Suffice it to say that there are so many ties binding me to this world now that coming back for good is not an option anymore, no matter how much I regret it._

_And I do regret it. I don’t want this. Well, I do want to stay here, but not at this cost. The price just seems too high. You win some, you lose some. Isn’t that the saying? I suppose that sums the situation up to perfection. And at the moment I would be losing more by coming back. I suppose that makes me look heartless, that giving you up seems the lesser evil. And I am so, so very sorry for doing this to you. I wish I could change it, but I just can’t!_

 

She stopped there, before her mental incoherency could translate onto the paper. She didn’t want that. But she wanted to make them understand that she had never meant for any of it to happen, not like this.

Her hands had started to shake again and she clenched them into fists to stop them from doing so. She could not go to pieces, not here, not now. She had almost done it. She was almost there. Just the goodbyes left now. But her heart felt as if it was in immediate danger of breaking. And she had done enough crying for one day.

‘Are you well?’

Kate didn’t even turn to look at the second visitor to interrupt her for the day. ‘You should be sitting down, not walking around. Didn’t the healers tell you that already?’

If Thorin was impressed, he didn’t show it. ‘Are you well?’ he repeated.

 _Just seconds away from breaking down_. But she didn’t say that. If she acknowledged that out loud, then she would break down again, and she could not do that again. Maybe later, when night had fallen and she could miraculously be on her own for a bit, maybe then she would give in to the tears again, but she sure as hell would not do so now.

And so she deflected the question. ‘I think that is a question I should ask of you rather than the other way around.’ Kate knew she sounded forced and hoped that Thorin had at least enough intuition to not press the point. But since that was not something she could count on, she provided a distraction herself. ‘What brings you here?’

‘I am the messenger,’ he announced, clearly distinctly displeased with being reduced to that. ‘A certain Ragnar, Lord Toigan and Thora would like a word with you.’

Kate frowned. Especially the first two could easily have been dealt with by Thorin. They were his people and he was the King under the Mountain. What would they want her for when Thorin himself was clearly available? That he would leave Thora to her she could understand; he had clearly no love of the girlish chatter she had unleashed on him.

‘Oh.’

He looked at the letter. ‘Are you nearly done?’

_No. Not nearly. How am I ever going to do this?_

‘Yes. Just one more paragraph. Give me a minute.’

 

_So I guess that this is goodbye. Duty calls. There are decisions to make, people to deal with and according to some, I am the person to talk to. I miss you. I wish I could see you again, but it is not to be._

_I am sorry. I am so sorry._

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

_Kate_

_P.S. Please take care of the cat; Laura hates him._

 

Despite her best intentions not to let the emotions get the upper hand, there were tears in her eyes. No, not anymore. There was work to be done and it wouldn’t do to show up teary-eyed, not at all.

So she took a deep breath and signed her old life away.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _Of all the things I have done, it turns out that writing a letter is the hardest thing of all. Who’d have thought?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently speed-writing for this story. The end is in sight, although it will take some more chapters. Either way, I hope to have this finished before the end of the summer.  
> Thank you for reading. Reviews would be appreciated if you have a minute.


	90. Treacherous Sentiments

_It would be very tempting to end my account of my adventures here, when there is such an obvious ending to one part of my life, and the starting of quite another one. But then I sat back and realised that there are still a number of loose endings waiting to be tied up. So that is what I am going to do here: tie up the loose ends and finish this tale. Goodness knows that it is already much longer than I planned for it to be._

_So, then, my dears, what is there left to say? No doubt you have any number of questions for me, most of them dealing with the how is it we never even knew this. And that one at least is easy to answer. It is such an unbelievable thing that it seemed wiser not to share it, and yes, it was also too painful to discuss, even now, even decades after all has been said and done._

_You have been in a very lucky position in that respect; your family has always dwelled under the same Mountain you have. And yes, I have heard your many complaints for wishes to the contrary when you were all still so very little and not in any mood to tolerate the presence of your siblings for reasons most of which I think are long since forgotten. Jacko and I were really much alike. There was a time when I wouldn’t see him and count it a blessing. I suppose this goes to support the theory that you never know what you have until you don’t have it anymore. It was a lesson I have learned the hard way._

_The day I disappeared from my own world and was dragged into this one, I had not seen my brother for weeks. He lived quite some distance away and I did not have a problem with that, because if the mood struck me, I could always go and seek him out. He lived his life, I lived mine. We didn’t argue much – not in the way we did when we were teenagers anyway – and I think our relationship could best be described as friendly. We interacted as if we were friends, if not particularly close friends at that point in time._

_I was closer with my mother. She lived relatively nearby, so I would pop over and spend time with her frequently. I think I can even remember talking to her for quite some time – through a device we call a telephone – just before I left to go on holiday. But there was no such thing as a definite goodbye, not in the way you say goodbye to someone when you know that this is the last time you will ever see them in this life._

_I think it mostly for that reason that I made such fuss about going back for most of the quest. It is because there were things left unfinished, words left unsaid. And to say goodbye with only a letter, well, it still feels like it was not nearly enough. It’s been one of my biggest regrets all of my life._

_And it is so tempting to wonder what could have happened if I had been granted that one chance to go back there and say goodbye properly, or what would have happened if I had known in advance what I was in for, so I could have said my farewells then. But life is not like that, unfortunately._

_But at least that letter gave me some measure of peace. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t enough, but for what it was worth, it was still better than having nothing at all._

_And it was not as if I was allowed to dwell on it, because there were still things to be done…_

 

The moment Kate was out of the tent, Thorin monopolised on it by seating himself in the still warm chair that she had just vacated. He would not show weakness in front of her, but his leg was throbbing and he didn’t think he could have stood a moment longer, certainly not unaided. No doubt that chatty healer was right when she pointed out he should be in a bed rather than on his feet. But bed rest was something he could not afford just yet, and so here he was, the King under the Mountain reduced to a crippled messenger to the far more able-bodied Queen under the Mountain.

And he envied her for that. He envied her the way she handled the crisis with a determination that could rival his own. For all her fears of dealing with his people, she had done admirably so far. He knew that most of his people were not overly fond of her, but she had managed all the same.

He hadn’t begun the trip to find Kate with the intention to give her the messages of others, merely going back to her out of concern. He had done what he had set out to do, making Gandalf swear that he would deliver the letter Kate was writing, so that at least he had been able to do for her. But she had been holed up in that tent for hours, leaving her to write the goodbye she should have gotten in person – Thorin would not be quick to forget the wizard’s latest trick – and he was worried for her. Of course Thorin Oakenshield did not admit to worry out loud, but it didn’t stop him from feeling it. And since actions were the way to deal with his feelings, that was what he did then, going back to see if she needed support.

At first he had been accosted by the healer, who started their conversation with a lecture about some people really needing to let themselves be looked after, which Thorin ignored with a practise born of years of ignoring advice that included sitting down or getting some sleep before he killed himself from exhaustion. He could only be grateful that the insect was nowhere to be seen to second that notion of Thora’s that he should ‘lay down and rest before you drop down and then we have to go and search for you, and it isn’t as if we don’t have enough of that already.’

Eventually it had dawned on her that he was not listening, nor was he about to. ‘Very well then,’ she said. ‘You’re the king, and it’s your life to waste as you want.’ She still did not sound happy with him. ‘If you happen to stumble onto your wife, though, could you send her to find me?’

‘What for?’ he demanded. There was something very unnerving about this cheeky girl.

‘Can’t tell you. Sorry.’ For one who was supposedly sorry, she sounded wholly unapologetic. ‘If I had needed you, I would have told you, but I don’t.’

She was gone before Thorin could have even begun to point out that this was no way in which to address her king. Not many people would ever find it in themselves to treat him thusly. _Mahal help my people should she ever have children_. He could only hope she was wedded to her craft.

For all his ignoring Thora’s advice, though, he was having more trouble walking by the second. It was as if the weapon had not even been removed from the wound, it hurt that badly, and it had not even quite recovered from the encounter with Smaug to begin with. A cripple, that was what he was turning into. And how could a cripple lead a kingdom? A cripple, who married a woman of the race of Men and who had fathered a child on her. He wasn’t fool enough to think that decision would not haunt him for the rest of his days.

Not that he’d know it from the awe he received from the eyes of a young dwarf with a quill tucked in his beard. A scribe, Thorin would wager from the look of him.

‘An honour to meet you,’ he said when he literally bumped into Thorin. It was costing him everything he had to remain upright, but the remaining energy went into fixing his assailant with as stern a stare as he could possibly conjure. ‘Ragnar, at your service, my lord.’ He checked himself when he finally looked up from the parchment in his hands long enough to catch sight of Thorin’s best glare. ‘A-apologies,’ he muttered.

Somewhere deep down it was reassuring to know that even though he was severely injured, he still had what it took to make people treat him with at least a measure of respect. ‘No harm done,’ he forced himself to say. _No more harm than I already suffered_. But that was not something this youngling needed to know.

‘I don’t mean to bother you, my lord, but would you know where the queen can be found?’ Ragnar asked. ‘Only she requested some lists to be made, and I don’t know where to find her now that I have them.’

‘I’ll let her know you were looking for her,’ Thorin replied.

‘I’ll be somewhere around here,’ Ragnar said.

He had darted off before Thorin could tell him that this was not the way in which he normally liked to be treated.

But then, he pondered as he made his way back to Kate, all of these dwarves came from the Iron Hills, they did not know him, as he did not know them. They were his people, true enough, but other than that, nothing bound them together. The lives they had lived were so vastly different that they could not possibly compare. And he was to rule them.  
And even about his own ability to do that he was unsure. All he knew was about leading a people in exile. He didn’t know the first thing about ruling them in his own kingdom. The thought was just as crippling as his leg, if not more so.

Lord Toigan was the next dwarf he had an encounter with. Unlike the two younglings, this was one he actually met before, during the negotiations to determine whether or not Dáin would support the quest. From all of the people in Dáin’s retinue, Toigan was the only one in favour, and as far as Thorin was aware, he had never even lived in Erebor. Well, Nói had been in favour too, but the less thought spent on him, the better it would be for his peace of mind.

‘Word had reached me that you got injured in battle,’ he said once the pleasantries were out of the way. Not that there were very many of them; if it was anything dwarves as a race were known for, it was getting to the point quickly and – according to most other races – rudely. ‘I see that it is true.’

‘True indeed,’ Thorin echoed. ‘You have fared well yourself.’

‘That I have,’ Toigan said. ‘As has your queen, by the looks of it. She fought a good fight of her own, it is said.’

He didn’t know who had been spreading the tale of the fight on the mountainside, but the smart money was on Elvaethor. ‘She has fought, that is true.’ And she had fought well. Erebor had only been saved because she realised it was in danger. And he would never stop owing her for that, even if he had rather had she herself would have stayed away from the battle itself.

If Toigan felt at all insulted by Thorin’s distinct lack of effort in this conversation, then he did not show it. ‘Most of our people love her not,’ he said bluntly.

‘I am aware of this.’ And Thorin was. He was only too aware of it. He knew that Kate would not be accepted any time soon. And if this dwarf thought that he did not know it, then he was more of a fool than Thorin had thought him.

Rational thought had dictated he should not get involved with Kate Andrews all throughout the quest, but in the end the heart had overruled the head, so here he was, facing the consequences. Here they _both_ were, facing the consequences. They might very well be worse for the advisor than they might be for him. Thorin was the rightful ruler after all, whereas Kate was only the woman who had infiltrated the kingdom by seducing the king. That was what would be said of her, sooner rather than later. Thorin and his company knew it for the lie that it was – and no doubt Dori would feel compelled to punch some jaws when he learned of the slander against his sister – but not everyone did.

_What have I gotten her into?_

‘But she might make for a good leader,’ Toigan allowed. ‘If she could be taught how to control her tongue.’ Yes, that bold tongue of hers would be a problem, Toigan was not wrong about that.

At the same time he felt forced to defend her; he had a feeling he would be one of the few to do that for her from now on. ‘Her words have also saved our company a couple of times.’ And just as often got them deeper into trouble. But it felt like betrayal to say that, and so he swallowed the all too true addition.

‘The elven king could do with a few well-chosen words,’ the Iron Hills dwarf agreed. ‘Queen Catherine asked of me to arrange with the other leaders as soon as possible. King Thranduil has “kindly” agreed to a meeting tomorrow morning two hours after sunrise. His allies did have no objections against such a thing.’

As long as Thorin had known Thranduil, the elf had never kindly agreed to anything at all, which meant that the setting up of a meeting must have been quite a show of bartering and near begging. It did nothing to endear Thorin to the thought of meeting his now former allies, but it had to be done, Kate had been right about that at least.

‘I want you to be there tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Inform Dáin that his presence is asked for, as is that of the scribe Ragnar.’ At least both Toigan and Ragnar seemed to have some sort of liking for Kate. ‘And tell Lord Loni I would see him there as well.’ He needed the dwarves who could work with Kate, so that they could present something akin to a united front. It was debatable whether or not Dáin really fell in that category, but he was one Thorin could not afford to alienate. He would take it as an offence, and rightly so.

Toigan had more of elvish cunningness in him than Thorin had given him credit for, something the king only realised when the other smiled knowingly. ‘Are there any particular instructions for the lords Walin and Beli in order to keep them well away from attending this meeting?’

He knew, of course he knew. It would be a good idea to keep him on his side. ‘Think of something,’ he said. ‘I have every confidence that you will think of something. But whatever you do, keep them away from the queen.’

Toigan laughed, a deep, rich chuckle that led Thorin to believe that beneath the serious exterior, there was a good dwarf with a sense of humour. ‘Aye, or keep the queen away from them. Say what you wish of her, but she can hold her own.’

‘That she can.’ And if only words could win this fight, he would have had no doubt of their victory. Unfortunately one had to consider elvish pride and mannish arrogance and they were shields all words bounced off of. If only their victory could be so easily achieved, but the negotiations before the battle had only shown too well that it would not be that easy. And now that the battle was done, all the things that had been discussed then, and had been unresolved, they would still be there.

And so here he was, sitting in a tent, feeling wearier than he had felt in a very long time. For so many years the thought of Erebor had kept him fighting, had kept him going long beyond the point of exhaustion. And now Erebor was his, the dragon had been defeated and both Azog and Bolg were dead. He had done everything he had ever dreamed of doing and he was still alive at the end of it. That in itself was more than he had ever dared to hope for.

And yet it had all turned sour in the end. Yes, the dragon was dead, the battle was won and Erebor was his, but he was not in any position to enjoy it, not with his enemies still in front of the gates, his own people doubtful of his chosen wife and his own body more injured than he was comfortable with. His sister-son was dead, and there was not even time to mourn for him. Kate was pregnant, and there was no time to rejoice in it. Yes, the child was cause for joy, but their lives would not be easier because of it. They would be harder.

At the same time he also knew that if anyone had a right to feel sorry for herself, then it would be the woman everyone thought he had married already. No going back to her family. He’d seen the defeat in her eyes, had seen tears rolling down her cheeks as she wrote down those last few words. There was no cause for joy for either of them. It almost made him regret ever giving in to his feelings for her.

Almost, but not quite, because there had already been good moments too, moments he would not trade for all the gold inside the Mountain. But yes, it rather looked like they would indeed be doomed to spend the rest of their lives fighting. _Mahal give me the strength. Will it ever end?_

His eyes fell on the pile of letters in the box. He knew that the letter Kate had written today was only one of the many she had written over the course of the journey. They were addressed to her brother, her brother by blood. He only knew that because he had overheard Ori telling it to Nori in some concern, Dori excluded from the conversation on purpose as to avoid the infamous fussing all the siblings hated with a passion. Thorin himself had never asked about the epistles, and Kate had never told him about them. They were her own business, not any concern of his.

Except that now they were. Kate had become his concern, at the very least, even if he knew full well she would give him a scolding to remember if she ever were to find out he was sticking his nose into her private correspondence. He blamed it on curiosity when his hand reached out of its own accord and took the letter she had only just finished writing. No, she would not thank him for this, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

He read the thing twice, from start to finish, not sure what to make of it. He could almost feel her pain from the words she had used, and the anger towards Gandalf was evident as well. But the strange thing about it was that she only made mention of his name to inform her family that he was the leader of the company, not as her husband or father of her child. And something about that stung. Why would she leave out such a thing if she had told them about her pregnancy? Were her family to be left guessing as to the father of the babe? Why would she do that?

To Thorin, it felt like a betrayal.

Maybe that was why he took out the entire pile of paper and started reading. It was not as if he had places to be right now. He could only sit and try to heal as fast as he could while others ran around and made all the necessary arrangements. It went against the grain to sit when so much needed to be done, but there was not a thing he could do now.

And it felt as if he had overstated Kate’s affection rather than underestimated. He had done the latter before, but never quite the former. But if she could not even tell her loved ones about him, then how much did she feel for him? Yet if her affections were so little, why had she made that choice to stay?

 _And heaven help me, but part of me doesn’t want to leave. I love you, you know, idiocy and enormous ego and all_. That was what she had said, right here in this tent. She loved him, enough to stay. He had to believe that; the way in which she’d said it had sounded too real to Thorin to be anything but the truth.

The question remained, though. Why that letter?

And at first there was no answer of any sort to be found in any of the letters he read. They were descriptions of events and landscapes, desperate lines expressing her wish to be back home and the occasional complaint against the wizard, which Thorin could not help but believe to be wholly justified. If his name was mentioned at all, it was to complain about his rude attitude. Given the time during which it was written, Thorin was not even all that convinced she was saying all of that without cause.

Until the trolls. _Thorin is a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma, dressed in dignified silence and disapproval,_ she’d written. _I have no doubt that if Gandalf wasn’t here to insist on my presence, he would have cast me out before I was ever taken in. As it is, he does not have that option, and so he endures my presence. Which is why I cannot for the life of me understand why he gave himself up when the trolls got me. Maybe that is his inner gentleman shining through – most of the dwarves seem to have one hidden somewhere – but that doesn’t quite explain the sword he gave me after his little venture into the trolls’ cave. Like I said, the embodiment of mystery wearing a always present scowl._

He’d given himself up because that was the right thing to do, but clearly that was the start of something, because even though her letters were peppered with complaints about him, there were more positive things every now and then.

 _The elves all assume we’re married. I can only conclude that overdosing on salad will addle the brain considerably. They’re rather quick to mistake kindness with love. Because this is not a fan fiction. It is real life. Things like that don’t happen. As if I’d ever want it to._ Only a few sentences there, but at least there she thought him capable of kindness. She surely hadn’t considered such a thing before.

The letters became a strange way to mark how her vision of him had changed over the month, from allies to friends. _We’ve agreed to be friends. Not sure if that is the way friendships are normally made, but there you go. Balin seems to think more is going on, and I could only wish he was alone in that. And it is not as if I can accuse them of eating too much green food. What the hell?_ That was after the ordeal of Goblin-town. They had agreed to be friends, he remembered. But of course the company had been thinking ahead even then. It made Thorin wonder if they had been more perceptive than Kate and he had been at that time.

 _That blasted gossip is really getting on my nerves,_ he read in a letter she had written after their stay with Beorn. _And Thorin seems tetchy about my not wanting a part of the treasure of Erebor. He’s a dwarf; shouldn’t he be glad that there’ll be more for him? Really, would the universe explode if my life was simple for once?_

And then Bifur had died. _Maybe it was foolish of me to believe that we could all make it through. I am too old to believe in fairy tales any longer; I should know better than to believe in bloody happy endings. There appears to be no such thing in Middle Earth. Or maybe they do for Thorin. I don’t believe I have ever seen him so relieved as he was when he found out that Fíli and Kíli were alive after all._

It was in those things, the little things that she noted, that he started to see affection. At the same time it was too private. He should not be reading this. These were her private thoughts and although she had written them in letters, he was not the intended receiver. It were only the little things, but things only people close to him would realise. And Kate had seen all those things, but never acknowledged them until after they’d kissed in Mirkwood. Well, _he_ had kissed _her_ in Mirkwood, because that seemed to be the easiest way to silence her at the time. Now he wondered who he had been fooling. Certainly not himself.

And then there it was. _Okay, fine, I_ do _like him, more than I should. Guess the company was right all along and I was just in denial. But it is not like anything can ever come of it, so I’d better forget about it, and forget about it soon. This cannot happen._

And then, eventually, a confession. _All right, I_ do _love Thorin. And he knows it. Was kind of hard to miss it, since I practically shouted it for all the world to hear, but it is true all the same. Something is just right about being with him and although I hate Mirkwood itself with a passion, I don’t dislike how we interacted there. It was just so natural, easy, good. And I really don’t want to lose that, or him for that matter. Bloody hell, I’m done for._

It was as good as confessions went with Kate. Thorin knew himself well enough to know that he was not one for those either. It was who they were. He still did not understand why she had not put him in that letter, but maybe it was because she did not know how to handle feelings. Part of him faulted her for that, while another part of him thought it to be rather hypocrite to blame her for something he with all his years had not mastered either.

 _Although I hate Mirkwood itself with a passion, I don’t dislike how we interacted there. It was just so natural, easy, good._ Yes, he had missed that too. And maybe that was what he needed to find again.

But there was something he felt he should do first, and so he took up a piece of paper, the last blank bit that was left, and the strange pen that Kate used to write. How she managed to use it was something of a mystery to him, because it felt strange and unnatural in his hand. Of course he had seen her use it enough to know how it should be used, but still his handwriting looked more shaky and swirly than it usually did when he put it to use.

He was never one for words, but he owed this to her family. He owed it to them to inform that he would look after Kate, that he would protect her until his dying breath now that they could never do that again.

When he sealed the letter, he almost felt at peace. This at least he had done right.

***

In a way, handling the organisation of things in the aftermath of the battle was almost easy. True, there were people standing in her way, trying their hand at being as obnoxious as they could be, but she had handled people like them before. It was nothing new. But all in all, now that the dreaded first meeting with Dáin and his retinue was out of the way, she felt more confident, more like she could do this.

She found Ragnar first, who demonstrated the fruits of his hard work in the form of at least a dozen lists naming the wounded and deceased, the ones they already found. The searches were organised and underway, so more lists would be coming, but this was what he had for now.

‘Impressive,’ she said and meant it. _We’re not letting this one go back to the Iron Hills, never in a million years. He’s good._ ‘Great work. Keep at it.’ Noticing the dark circles under his eyes, she added: ‘But don’t forget to sleep and eat, will you? You’re no good to man or beast if you’re dead on your feet.’

‘I thought all the beasts had been slain,’ Ragnar observed, a little puzzled.

Another saying that wasn’t known to dwarves. Why was she even still surprised? ‘Just a phrase,’ she said. Goodness, she might need to unlearn a lot of these phrases in the days to come. The company got used to them – Bofur even cheerfully copied them – but this was not just the company anymore. _This life is going to be so much harder than I ever thought it would be._

She exited the tent in search of the next person that wanted to talk to her, and ran straight into him when he found her first.

‘Lord Toigan,’ she acknowledged. ‘I was told you were looking for me.’

‘Indeed I was.’ There was something about this dwarf that Kate liked. Maybe it was that half-hidden spark in his eyes that hinted at a sense of humour, or maybe it was his willingness to try and work with her when not many of his fellows had shared that particular sentiment. Either way, she liked him. She liked his directness even better. _Because I’ve had enough of elven evasiveness to last me a lifetime._

‘How bad was it?’ she asked.

‘King Thranduil has kindly agreed tomorrow, two hours after sunrise,’ the dwarf reported. ‘His allies had no wish for such a thing at first, but will attend all the same.’

‘His allies,’ Kate observed. ‘And ours no longer.’ Not that this was too much of a surprise; she’d known from the start that the alliance would end the moment the battle was over. It didn’t make her feel any better, though. _We’re weakened, and they are turning on us like wolves._

‘I fear that may be so,’ Toigan nodded.

Kate snorted. ‘I _know_ it is.’ It made her feel horribly exposed, out here, between all of these people who might turn back into enemies in the blink of an eye. If Thranduil wanted it – and if Erland wanted it, of that there was not even a doubt – he could turn this into bloody slaughter. ‘Try and see if you can start moving our people into the Mountain,’ she said. ‘Invent excuses if you have to. Tell them it’s to have better protection against the cold or something like that. Try to be discreet, no great numbers. And let the searches go on.’

Toigan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Thranduil and Erland will see it as distrust. Such a move might endanger these coming negotiations.’

 _I know. I bloody well know_. ‘I am aware of that,’ she answered. ‘But in the short time that I have known them, neither of them has given me any reason to trust them. They have been waiting to stab us in the back from the beginning. I’m rather safe than sorry. If these talks turn to disaster, I don’t want our people right where they are far too easy targets. We’re weakened, outnumbered and surrounded by potential enemies. I don’t like our odds in case of a fight. And I don’t like it that there are only two in all of Erebor to defend it.’ She thought for a minute. ‘And I do not think Thorin would disagree with me.’

That was it, she’d said the magic word. Among these people, Thorin’s name opened doors. Kate knew it was not a card she could play too many times. Eventually she should learn to do this under her own steam, but this was an emergency.

_Damn Thranduil, Erland and all this mess._

Toigan nodded. ‘Your reasoning is sound. I will see it done.’

Kate nodded, hoping the gratefulness was not too much visible on her face. She knew that theoretically she had every right to deal out orders and have them obeyed, but she did not feel like it yet. And what with all the contrary dwarves she’d had to deal with lately, it was a relief to encounter one who didn’t question her every word. ‘Tell Lufur I’ve sent you,’ she said. ‘And consult with Mr Baggins on where to house everyone. Over the past few weeks he has gained intimate knowledge of the kingdom.’ An idea occurred to her. ‘You know what, get Blackbeard to help you. That should give him something to do.’ _And keep him well out of my hair and away from that meeting._

Only when Toigan’s forehead wrinkled in an uncomprehending frown did Kate realise she had in fact, again, referred to Lord Walin by his nickname.

‘Lord Walin, I mean,’ she corrected, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment. _Bugger it all. How am I ever going to do this?_

To her surprise Toigan only laughed. ‘His title is well-chosen,’ he said. ‘Some say that his moods are even blacker than his beard.’

‘I find I have little trouble believing it,’ Kate said sourly. _I take it you don’t particularly like him either._ A stroke of luck indeed.

She took her leave of Toigan and set out in search of Thora, the only one she still needed to go and see. It was strange, though. She had spoken to both Ragnar and Toigan about things that could have been discussed with Thorin as well. So why had they gone to her rather than him? He was one of them, and their rightful king too, so why deal with a human woman who should have no business getting involved in dwarvish affairs at all? It didn’t make sense.

But then she remembered something she’d said to Toigan. _Our people. Our._ As in, yours and mine. She was claiming these people for her own. And that was a strange thing to be doing, an even stranger thing to be feeling. But mostly it made her feel guilty. She had cut her last ties to home just an hour before, but here she was, well on her way to make a new life, like writing that letter hadn’t hurt at all.

 _What kind of horrible person am I?_ She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

Thora was found in the same tent where Balin was being treated, and clearly had found Kate’s friend and pain in the arse on her own. Elvaethor was standing next to her, talking animatedly to her over the head of one of the patients. Thora was responding with equal enthusiasm. From just the look of things, they got on like a house on fire. _I have created a monster,_ Kate thought. _Given time, those two are going to be unstoppable._

Although, on reflection, she wasn’t sure they needed any more time for that. ‘When was your wound last dressed?’ Thora asked when Kate had made her presence known and asked what the matter was.

Kate’s face crewed up in thought. ‘When Tauriel stitched it up?’ It must have been. She couldn’t remember anyone else having a look at it since, and she had been too busy organising things, having an emotional break-down, writing a letter and running around all over again to spare her wound any more thought. Which was good, because it meant she couldn’t spend all her time thinking about that horrible itching and stinging it was doing.

‘Sit down,’ Thora commanded.

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Beg pardon?’

‘Sit down,’ the young healer repeated. ‘That needs to be done again. It should have been done this morning at the very latest. You’re too much like your husband.’  
Kate sat down obediently. ‘That’s the first time someone makes that comparison.’

‘Well, it’s true,’ she said. ‘You’re both too stubborn for your own good, what with running around camp when you should be sitting down.’

‘You don’t get sick days on this job,’ Kate remarked wryly. Privately she agreed with Thora as far as Thorin was concerned. He was running himself ragged, and he was in pain, too. He should be taking a break before that leg of his got any worse. But that was not in his nature any more than it was in hers. The difference was that she would not end up a cripple for the rest of her days if she did what needed doing. ‘And there are things that need doing, injuries notwithstanding.’

‘Like redressing that wound of yours,’ Thora concluded cheerfully. ‘You could be a dwarf for all I know, insisting that work should come before everything else.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘Is that the pot I hear, calling the kettle black?’

‘I am not injured,’ Thora retorted. ‘Now sit still and let us do our job.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Kate muttered sarcastically. ‘At least in this department.’ Because heaven forbid that she would get any other ideas from this. ‘Wait, are you two doing this together?’ She eyed the elf and the dwarf in front of her suspiciously.

‘There is a great many things we can learn from one another,’ Elvaethor said, mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘We are both making use of that opportunity.’

‘With me as your guinea pig,’ Kate understood. ‘Oh joy.’

Elvaethor frowned. ‘What kind of pig would that be, Queen Kate?’

‘I’m assuming elves are not fond of domesticated animals,’ she said. _Well done, Andrews. So much for unlearning certain phrases._ ‘Never you mind. I meant to conclude you two are using me as your test subject.’ She gave them as stern a stare as she could muster. ‘So if I die of blood poisoning, I’ll know who to blame.’

‘You should have more faith in us,’ Thora said. ‘We know what we’re doing.’

And so it seemed. Not that Kate understood more than one word out of every three once they really got going, but it was nice to see them work together, but strange also. _Well, it does give a body hope for the future._ And that was something that was sorely lacking at the present time.

Elvaethor and Thora were still at it when Dáin entered the tent. He cast one glance around the tent and then made straight for her. Kate had seen enough people on the warpath to know that he was on it. _Oh, bugger._

‘Lord Dáin,’ she greeted politely. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ And here was to hoping that most of her sarcasm went unnoticed. She still didn’t know what to make of him. Sometimes he acted friendly, other times almost hostile. And she had not quite forgotten that he had hardly said a word during that meeting. If anything, he did not support her. At best, he tolerated her for Thorin’s sake. That made him one unreliable ally in the time that Thorin was not at his best.

‘I am told you have my people move into the Mountain,’ he said brusquely. His use of the possessive _my_ instead of _our_ did not escape Kate’s notice.

‘You have been informed correctly,’ she said coolly. Oh, she was so done with playing nice. ‘The nights are too cold out here, and we have wounded who could use the shelter of Erebor.’ She was not about to bleat her real motives to the world within elvish hearing. That would have to wait.

‘Why was I not consulted?’ he all but demanded of her.

‘Because I don’t need your permission,’ Kate said. This was not what she wanted. She didn’t want it to come to this, to her pulling rank. It felt wrong somehow, but if she didn’t put her foot down now, he would waltz all over her and effectively end any authority she may have established only just this morning. _How the hell did I end up in this power struggle?_ ‘I am well within my rights to make decisions for the benefit of our people, as you well know.’ _And it would have been nice if you remembered it before you called me to the carpet._

‘Yet here I find you with an elf, and I am told you have given ultimate authority over this mission to a halfling.’ Dáin was practically fuming.

 _That_ was what it was all about? Really? ‘I am making use of the local resources.’ That was as good an explanation as any. _You don’t owe him any explanation at all, Andrews._ Of course, it couldn’t hurt either. Some goodwill would be welcome right about now.

Thankfully, this was the time Thora decided to butt in. ‘And as you can see, unless your eyes have been invisibly damaged by battle, I am a dwarf, and I am helping Queen Kate as well, which seems to be far more than you are doing at the present time.’ She frowned at Dáin, who was returning the gesture with unflattering disbelief. ‘It must be a fault within the Durin bloodline that causes such idiocy.’

 _Which bodes well for my child_. But really, if Kate had not already been won over by Thora, she would have been then. The girl was a gift from heaven.

In the end Dáin chose to ignore her. ‘Why the halfling?’ Contempt rang in his every word. That must be the dwarvish prejudice she had heard so much about.

‘Because he knows what he is doing.’ She was firm in her decision. It seemed that everyone she met was hell-bent on underestimating the burglar, a sin of which she herself had been guilty on many occasions. But that didn’t make it right. And she sure was not underestimating him now. ‘And he is the best one for the job, even though ultimate authority lies with Lord Toigan, when last I checked.’

‘I do believe that Nói is also in Erebor,’ Dáin argued. _I’m getting the feeling Toigan and he don’t get on._ ‘Why not involve him?’

_Oh, shit._

There was a very good reason why Nói was not involved, but Kate had really hoped she could save that conversation for a later date. It was bound to enrage Dáin even further, and she would have preferred to have Thorin by her side when she broke the news of Nói’s betrayal to his liege lord. Apparently she would have no such luck today.

‘Because Nói is currently honouring the dungeons in Erebor with his presence,’ she said. Honesty might be the best course of action. No, it was the only option she had. He distrusted her already. The last thing she needed was to give him another excuse for doing so. ‘It came to our attention that he was very friendly with a certain orc by the name of Bolg, and before that it appears he was best friends with Azog.’

Dáin actually paled a little, but it only lasted a second. ‘How did you come by this information?’ It was painfully obvious that he did not believe it when it came from her, another reason why she would have wanted Thorin here with her. _Can’t get everything you want, Andrews_. As if she didn’t know that after the day she’d had.

‘My source would like to remain anonymous,’ she said quickly before Elvaethor could reveal himself. She kicked him discreetly with her good leg for good measure to be sure. Dáin was not going to think her tale any more credible if it turned out that the source of her information was revealed to be one of the elves. Relations were not that good that he would be thanked for revealing a traitor in their midst. He’d sooner be accused of making it all up. ‘But Nói confessed upon arrest. Did you know he meant for you to take the throne?’ She did not really mean to imply that he had anything to do with it, but it might make Dáin think twice before he threw a tantrum. _As long as he believes that I do entertain that thought._

‘That is absurd.’ Kate half expected him to spit on the ground.

‘A dwarf cavorting with orcs, yes, I agree that is absurd.’ And it was. She had known for a long time that someone must have been overly friendly with the orcs, but that did not make it any easier to imagine someone really doing it. ‘But he confessed.’ There was no denying that. And suddenly she knew exactly how to convince Dáin. ‘And I can prove it to you.’ If he didn’t take it from her, well, then she’d have to get it from the horse’s mouth instead.

She reckoned Dáin only went along with her plan to go and see Nói so that he could gain evidence that none of this was true, but he agreed all the same, albeit with a scowl from which she should by all rights have dropped dead. Elvaethor and Thora were none too pleased about her going to walk back to the Mountain, but Kate pointed out that she didn’t have a list of other options available – ‘and I can’t exactly fly there, can I?’ – and they reluctantly agreed. Thora wished her luck. It felt good to have someone on her side at least, even if her support meant nothing to Dáin. ‘Us girls have to stick together,’ was all the answer she got when asking about it. And maybe that was all the answer she needed.

Either way, she could do with a bit of luck for this. She arrived at the gates of Erebor to find the kingdom a beehive of activity. Toigan clearly made no empty promises, for which she was grateful. She would rest easier if she knew that they weren’t all out there right in harm’s way should harm indeed come. Kate still hoped not, but she had too much experience with Erland’s backstabbing and Thranduil’s unpleasantness to think that everything was going to turn out for the best.

‘You wait here,’ she said when they had arrived at the dungeons. The cell where Nói was being held was just down the corridor, but she meant to talk to him alone, with Dáin playing the part of eavesdropper. Nói couldn’t hear them now; a door still muffled the sounds. Of course Dáin had protested this, insisting he was left to talk to his former advisor on his own, but Kate was fairly convinced that he would play innocent then, while she already knew about his actions. If he talked only to her, he would not feel the need to hide what he’d done, which was why she was going in alone.

She waited until she got a reluctant nod before she turned the key and entered. The nerves were settling comfortably in her stomach again, and it had nothing to do with her pregnancy, Kate knew. Neither Nói nor Dáin liked her, and here she was, alone, caught between the two of them. She had been in far better positions to be sure.

Nói, even though he was locked up in the cell at the far end of the corridor, caught sight of her and scoffed. ‘I take it the battle is done, then?’

Kate kept walking until she stood in front of the bars. ‘Yes, it is,’ she said. She would have to be really careful not to put words in his mouth, because she needed Nói to confess on his own. If Dáin so much as suspected she was making Nói say things, her whole clever scheme would be blown right out of the water. ‘We were victorious.’

But at a cost. She had tried not to look, tried not to see, but even a blind man could not have missed all the corpses. _So many dead, all because of you._ Of course, a great part of the blame rested with the orcs as well. Even without Nói’s help, Bolg would have figured it all out eventually and then the orc armies would have come, but the way things were, yes, it was Nói’s fault. And she could blame him for it. And she would be more than happy to heap all the blame for Kíli’s life, Ori’s hand, Thorin’s injury and everything else that had gone completely to hell on his doorstep.

But first Dáin needed to be convinced.

‘Were you? You don’t look in the victorious mood.’ By the light of the torch she could see Nói. He didn’t appear very bothered by his incarceration. _He’s still convinced Dáin will come and get him out, isn’t he?_

‘I find death and injury hardly a laughing matter,’ Kate snapped.

He’d struck a nerve, and he knew it too, the bastard. There was a large part of her that wanted to reach through the bars, grab him by the collar and bash his head against aforementioned bars. But even apart from the fact that such a thing would kill her understanding with Dáin faster than she could blink, she didn’t have the necessary bodily strength for it either.

‘Thorin lives,’ she therefore told him. Now that would vex that traitor in there good and well. ‘He was injured in the battle, but he lives. And I don’t think Dáin has as much as scratch on him. And if he has them, I haven’t seen them and they don’t seem to bother him.’

She let the news sink in.

And sinking in was what it did. ‘Thorin Oakenshield lives?’ It was more of a growl than a normal question.

‘He does,’ she confirmed.

He cursed in Khuzdul. Something about Mahal and something else. Her lessons with Ori hadn’t exactly touched upon the subject of swear words – Dori would never have approved of such a thing – but it was far from complimentary, that much was obvious. ‘He never does, does he? Others die for him, but he always survives.’

Kate was pretty sure Thorin would agree with such a sentiment; he’d perfected the art of blaming himself long before she even met him. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn’t here to hear it after all. No point in letting him beat himself up over this when this was decidedly not his fault.

‘One might think you’d be a bit happier about the survival of your king,’ she said. He would certainly rejoice about Kíli’s death, which was why she hadn’t brought it up. She wasn’t sure she could control herself if he celebrated that.

‘You might rejoice now, but he will never hold that position he has as long as you are weighing him down.’ Nói’s words were poison, and Kate did her best not to hear them. Well, she heard them of course, but she had to work hard not to let them get to her. ‘And wouldn’t that be ironic. The first time one of Thrór’s descendants opens his heart, it will be his downfall. You won’t be accepted by my people, not ever, and then they will decide Dáin will be the better king.’

He actually made her skin crawl. ‘Your scheming is most impressive,’ she said, ice in her voice. ‘In fact, it makes me wonder why you threw your lot in with Azog and Bolg at all. Seeing as you seem to think Thorin will bring about his own downfall and all that.’

‘Because he needs to die like his grandfather did.’ Something in his voice and eyes actually made Kate do a step back. The hatred practically blazed in his eyes. _I am looking evil in the face_. ‘Because he does not deserve to live. None of his line do.’

Kate made a mental note not to get anywhere near him ever again. Because her child would be of Thrór’s line, something she would not tell him, not even to rub his nose in the fact that he had not won this fight.

‘It’s not up to you to deal out judgement,’ she said. ‘Not after what you did.’ She could paint Kíli’s laughing face in her mind, now nothing but a memory. _He_ did that. _Bolg may have dealt the killing blow, but I’m looking at the real culprit._

‘It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t deserve it.’ Nói’s certainty was unwavering. That was what made him so scary.

‘You risked your own kinsmen in this battle of your own creation.’ Part of her wanted to understand why he did it. What made people do such things?

‘A price worth paying.’ He didn’t need as much as a second to answer.

She did another step back. ‘You are insane.’

If they’d been in her world, she would have sent him to a mental asylum and wash her hands of him, but when last she checked, Middle Earth didn’t have any of those. As it was, his bloodthirsty madness turned her stomach. And to think she had been taken in with him when she first met him, found his attempts at flattery endearing rather than creepy. _I need to get out of here._

‘You cannot see the truth,’ Nói countered.

Kate took a deep breath. ‘I can see the truth quite clearly. And so can your liege lord.’

With impeccable timing Dáin stepped into the light. Shock was written all over his face, but there was no doubt that he believed her now. Good. At least one good thing had come from this otherwise disastrous meeting.

And it was well worth it to see the shock on Nói’s face when he realised he had been played. Convincing Dáin was the hard part, and mostly because Dáin was the one Nói clearly idolised was it so satisfactory to have Dáin see him for what he really was.

She turned on her heels. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk.’

When she left the dungeons it felt like one weight at least had been lifted from her shoulders. One down, goodness-knows-how-many to go.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _I don’t know why people automatically assume evil looks like orcs with swords. In my opinion, evil looks like Nói._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a few days, but I am trying to update once more, hopefully twice, before going on holiday in a week's time.  
> As always, reviews would be much appreciated.


	91. Foundation

_I don’t know what was being said after I left the dungeons. Dáin never said and I never asked. Somehow it is still too painful a subject to bring up. Even I find it hard to even think of Nói after what he did, and I didn’t even know him all that well before Elvaethor told me he was not who he pretended to be._

_I think that part of it has to do with it actually being a painful thing to admit you have been so wrong about someone. It makes you doubt yourself, the accuracy of your own judgement, and believe me, dear ones, that is no good feeling. I for one kept on wondering whether or not things would have turned out this way if I had been onto him sooner. Futile, of course. Besides, I had hardly met the guy by the time Elvaethor informed me of his friendship with the orcs. His treason would have been long since done. Still I wondered, because apparently that is how the mind works._

_Which is why I think it might have been even worse for Dáin, who had known him for most of his life. He didn’t talk about it after it, he only – reluctantly – thanked me for rooting out a traitor in our midst. Not that I really did a lot of rooting out, but well, at least he was kinder to me after. I suppose that in his eyes I had proven my worth and earned a place of some kind. What kind was unclear, though, but he had more respect for me than he had before._

_Nói’s end was not as brutal as the ends of the people whose death he’d caused. He was cast out of the community, everything taken from him but the clothes on his back. After that, we never heard of him again. I can only guess what happened to him, but I don’t think he would have lasted for long. In the end, I think only his need for vengeance kept him going. He had no other family that I know of and the family he had were long since gone. You know, as much as I feared and hated him, there is still that small part of me that can feel sorry for him. As I said, that is apparently how the mind works._

_In the meantime the evacuation, if it may be called that, was in full swing and Bilbo was right in the middle of it, commanding people to where they should be camped, giving directions and answering questions. He took to it as if he had been born to do it. Something about that was both amusing and very impressive: one small hobbit telling heavily armoured dwarves what to do. Most of aforementioned dwarves were not particularly pleased to be given orders by one that did not belong to their kind – the story of my life – but Toigan must have given them very specific instructions of his own, ones that Blackbeard could not just countermand. Predictably, his face suggested that he had been chewing on a lemon, so I stayed well away from him. It seemed the better decision for my health._

_I didn’t see much of Thorin the rest of the day. Both of us were too busy, although I can’t say exactly what he was doing. Doubtless it was something of great importance, although I half hoped that Thora had cornered him and forced him to rest. Of course that didn’t work and I spotted him entering through the gate under his own steam just after sunset._ Too stubborn for his own good _is a phrase that suits your father very well, I must say. Well, I suppose that goes for both of us, if I am really being honest. It is not as if I have been known for actually following the medical advice I was given, a trait that apparently has been passed on to most of you. I am guessing you can identify the one exception by yourselves._

_So anyway, there we were, practically running from Thranduil’s expected impending wrath, with the talks still looming ahead…_

 

Considering the prospect of getting back to the negotiating table again, it shouldn’t surprise Kate that she found sleep a stranger that night. She tried for a time, knowing full well that she could hardly afford to be sleepy during the talks. She needed her wits about her, but sleep kept eluding her all the same. There was too much snoring, too many people and still she felt completely alone.

 _Oh, bloody hell, it’s not as if you can’t sleep if Thorin isn’t here to hold you, Andrews_. She hadn’t seen him since she parted with him in the tent. Well, she’d seen him from a distance, but by the time she’d finally shaken her Toigan-shaped tail, he’d disappeared and where to was anyone’s guess. And in the end Kate had given up looking for him. Dori had found her, insisting that she should get some rest, and so she camped down with him instead. But Dori was sleeping and she was not.

 _Forget the sleep_. It wasn’t going to work. Despite having slept with the snore concert the company had treated her to most nights, she found it impossible to tolerate them now, a clear sign that her mind had no intention of resting as it should. She was far too awake. _And wouldn’t Thranduil just love it if he heard he’s giving me sleepless nights?_

The thing was that she didn’t know what the morning would bring, and it was that knowledge that was so frightening. It almost felt as if nothing of the previous days mattered. Thranduil and his allies, that was how Toigan had referred to them. She remembered her own reply only too well. His allies, and ours no longer. Everything was back to how it had been before they had made that truce. _After all, we only agreed to stop quarrelling until the common threat was out of the way. Nothing was said about what was to happen afterward._

 _So here we are, back to square one._ As it was, Kate was not even certain that Thorin would come with her. The last time he had sent her in his stead, unwilling to show the enemy how weakened he was. But this time the enemy was likely to know already, so that excuse would count for nothing. Not that it made Kate feel more confident about tomorrow. Thorin Oakenshield was a stubborn as they came, and injury only ever made him worse. His temper would be short and his willingness to give in to any demands made of him would be non-existent. _I can’t even blame him for that._

Kate was well aware that her thoughts were as far from diplomatic as they could get and, were she to speak them tomorrow, she would cause diplomatic disaster with them. As it was, she was convinced that if Thorin would agree to hand over some of the almost immeasurable wealth of Erebor, the armies before their gates would leave. And they had fought right alongside their own forces in the battle, had died alongside them as well.

 _They only fought to save themselves_.

And that was one of the reasons why the very thought of practically buying the elves and men off was so repulsive to her. It’s like giving in to blackmail. And Kate Andrews thoroughly detested the thought of that. Thranduil and Erland had come here only in the hopes of getting richer – and what was Thranduil’s excuse for really being here was still as much of a mystery as it ever had been; Kate didn’t buy his lamentations about his burned down woods for even a second – and handing them treasure was giving in.

 _We may not have a choice_. There was that. Durin’s Folk could do without fighting another war. Kate herself had only seen a glimpse of it, and she was tired of it. There had been too much bloodshed, too much scheming and entirely too much vengeance. It had to end somewhere, and the book had always led her to believe that this was where it ended, where everyone made peace and went home and lived happily ever after, until Sauron started to rear his ugly head at least. _By now I should have known better than to take what is written there as gospel._ It rarely ever was.

 _I want this thing done with_. And, if she was really honest with herself, she wanted to bring her child into a world that was safe to live in. But it was a hard thing to admit, because she hardly had begun to accept that this pregnancy was even real. It had been barely twenty-four hours and in that time span it had both turned her life upside down – because this was the one thing that made it impossible for her to ever leave, the one thing that grounded her here – and had been banished to the back of her mind. There were just too many other things going round and round in her head: Kíli’s death, Thorin’s injury, Ori’s sudden lack of a hand… _And let’s not forget all the plotting and scheming I’ve had to deal with today._

‘You should be asleep.’

Kate didn’t need to turn around to know who was talking. Had they still been on the western side of the Misty Mountains, he would have added the _Miss Andrews_ to his command-in-the-disguise-of-a-suggestion. Thorin never was one who held with niceties, especially when he was not at his best, which Kate knew full well he wasn’t now. Her path had let her up and out, leaning over the battlements to get some air. For him to even be here would have caused him pain and cost him more effort than he should have put into it.

 _Bloody fool, you’ll kill yourself the rate you’re going at. Don’t you want that knee to heal?_ The way he was behaving he was planning on making everyone forget he had been injured only yesterday, including himself.

‘Ever heard of that saying: practise what you preach?’ she asked, turning around. Bloody hell, he looked worse than he did when she saw him last. He was as white as a sheet, especially in the moonlight. To be honest, she feared that within seconds she would need to shout for the guards to help him back inside after he collapsed. ‘It’s a good one.’

As expected, Thorin did a splendid job of ignoring her. ‘What brings you up here?’

Kate bounced the question right back at him. ‘What are _you_ doing here?’

Good grief, the only concession he had done to his condition was a walking stick. She suppressed the urge to tell him to sit down, though; Thorin never could abide fussing any more than she could. And it was not as if anyone could change his mind once it had been made up, especially not her. Future wife or not, truth was that she knew him for less than a year – although it felt much longer – and they had not even been friends for much of that time. This whole relationship thing was as new to her as it was to him. There were times when she was not even sure of where she was standing, or how far she could go.

Thorin ignored that too. It seemed he was in one of those moods again, when he didn’t feel like opening up and she had to play the guessing game with him instead. And the wrong kind of answer could be disastrous.

So, when a reply was not forthcoming, she answered: ‘I couldn’t sleep. Too busy thinking about tomorrow.’ And a baby she could hardly comprehend.

But that was something she could not tell him. He’d barely been able to grasp how she could think he would not be happy about the news, so how would he understand that Kate didn’t know what to do? It could be that she just needed some time to get used to the idea of a child. After all, there had been far too many issues demanding her attention lately, and her own pregnancy was right at the bottom of the list.

 _Of all the times to fall pregnant, of course I had to do it in the middle of an armed conflict. Some timing, Andrews_. Of course Thorin was just as much involved as she had been, and he seemed a whole lot less concerned about it than she was. Then, he hadn’t been dealing with his own people today.

‘And the child,’ Thorin observed.

How the hell did he know that? Too late she realised that one of her hands had dropped to her stomach, which would have given it away. _Shit._ ‘Yes, that too.’ Denial would earn her nothing and lose her everything. She’d had a taste of that already and she very much preferred not to repeat the experience. ‘One of these days we’re going to have to tell your…’ She changed her mind when she saw the look on his face. ‘ _Our_ people,’ she corrected. ‘One of these days we’re going to have to tell them I’m pregnant and I don’t see that going over all that well.’

At least they were lucky it didn’t show yet, which gave them a little extra time. Unfortunately it was that very thing that made it so hard for her to realise that this was not the elvish idea of a joke and that it was very much real. _No readily available pregnancy tests around here_. If she wanted to get a second opinion she might ask Thora and hope that she meant that thing about girls sticking together, so that she would keep her mouth shut. Confirmation from another source might just help her out there.

Again, no verbal reply. Thorin was just looking at her. The light was not ideal – there was too little of it to begin with – and he was wearing that unreadable look on top of it. What he was thinking now was a mystery, and Kate did not like it one bit. It was one of those nights she would have to do most of the talking.

‘Thorin?’ Not that she felt like guessing today. Bloody hell, would it just kill him to talk?

To her surprise she got a reply this time. His free hand moved to cover the one still resting on her stomach. The gesture was more intimate than she was used to from him, but there was support in it. He was on her side, and as unexpected this baby had been, it was welcome to him.

And for some reason this made it feel more real to Kate as well. It was happening. It was happening to her. _This is my life now._ It was the choice she’d made when she was presented with the dilemma, and she would stick with it. Not that there was any way of going back now. Dwalin had delivered the box with her letters back to her, so she would give it to Gandalf come sunrise, so he could send it like a glorified postman. And once they were gone, all of her ties to that world would be too. It frightened her.

Had there ever really been a choice? If there had been one, Kate was sure she lost it right about the time she slept with Thorin. This child was the result of that. _Sometimes one time is really all it takes, I suppose._ But she found that, complicated though matters may be now, she could not regret it, not fully. But that didn’t mean she could not feel a small measure of it.

It was as if Thorin had read her mind, or at least part of it. ‘Do you regret your decision?’

Kate knew him well enough to translate it as a _do you not regret me_. For one as seemingly tough as Thorin Oakenshield, he had a deep fear of people abandoning him, one that was not easily abated. _How would I be if I had lost what he has lost?_ It was hard to blame him for something as understandable as that, annoying though it sometimes may be. _How many times do I need to say it before he will believe that I will not go?_

‘No,’ she said. ‘It was the only one I could make.’ Any other decision would have made her heart bleed even more. But that did not mean that this one didn’t hurt like hell. Alas, those two things were not mutually exclusive.

‘That is not an answer,’ he argued.

‘It is,’ Kate disagreed. ‘It is the only one I can give.’ She shook her head, trying to think of a way to explain this to him in a way that would not make him think she was about to run out on him. ‘I wanted both things, and it is not to be that I can have them at the same time. It’s one thing or another. This is going to take time.’ _And the baby takes away all the choices I may have had._ And perhaps that was what vexed her so. She wanted the choices she couldn’t have. _How human of me. Isn’t that the way people work, forever wanting the things out of their reach?_

‘You miss them.’ Why was it that sounded like a bloody accusation?

‘Of course I do,’ she said. Honesty was her best if not only option. ‘But I am staying in spite of that.’ Wasn’t that what it meant to be in a relationship? Of course Robert and Marc had not been the best people to shape her expectations of a relationship, which was why this was so difficult. And of course she had gotten involved with someone with more emotional luggage than most, more than she could ever gain in a lifetime. ‘And I am not planning on running anywhere,’ she added for good measure.

The almost guilty look on his face told Kate that she had hit home.

‘I wish you’d stop doubting me,’ she said, crankier than she rationally knew she should be. ‘According to all these people, we are married, are we not?’ And in this world, in this culture, there was no going back from that.

‘We are,’ Thorin confirmed.

Kate nodded. ‘How does that even work now?’ she wondered. ‘I suppose we can never tell them now that a wedding has never even taken place, but shouldn’t we… well, you know, have one regardless?’ Something about this felt wrong somehow, like it was neither one or the other. In Kate’s mind being married meant that there were at least some vows spoken in the presence of a couple of witnesses. Without that it felt more like a charade than a true marriage. And although Thorin was probably the last person on earth to ever walk out on someone, it would feel better if she knew that something bound them together. _Face it, Andrews, deep down you’re just as scared as he is._

‘We will have to have a private ceremony,’ he said. ‘Your brothers and Fíli would serve well for witnesses.’

 _No white dress for me, I suppose,_ Kate thought. Not that she minded much. She had never been one for the dresses, and she certainly didn’t like fuss much, which could only be an advantage here. ‘I suppose so,’ she said.

 _How does life keep getting so messy?_ It made her so, so weary, wishing for a place to rest her head and sleep until all was right with the world again. But her own choices in life may have effectively ensured that nothing about the world would ever be fully right again. Would a truly happy ending ever have been possible for her or had that too been ripped away from her when Gandalf uprooted her and planted her in a world that was not her own? _Would I ever have been able to live with no regrets at all?_

‘Not what you wanted, I reckon,’ she said. ‘But no one can ever find out that we were not married sooner, can they?’ It would cause chaos and it would undermine Thorin’s authority. Neither of those sounded good.

 _How do we do this, always dancing around the real subject of us, always talking about what needs to be done, but never touching the heart of things?_ She had a theory, though. Because how good was she really at speaking her heart? One could always trust Kate Andrews to speak her mind, but her heart was something else entirely. It was one of those characteristics that enabled her to understand Thorin a little better – they were so alike in this – but at the same time it always stood in their way, always made these encounters difficult. Part of her wanted to step in the safe circle of his arms, while another part worried that she may not be welcome there. They kept on blundering their way through this relationship that was as unconventional as it could get. There was no beaten track to follow. There may be a some centuries old tale about some Dari and Inga, but they had not been royalty. They ran and left the world behind.

_Would that I could do the same._

‘They cannot.’ Thorin was leaning heavily upon that stick. He needed the support, but he needed to get off his feet even more. ‘I apologise for that.’

Kate snorted. ‘Not your fault. Or at least as much my fault as it is yours. We both agreed to this.’ Whatever this was. Somewhere along the way the ploy to pass them off as a married couple had become real, very real, minus the actual marrying part, because that had never even taken place. _Speaking of messy._

Kate stared down at her hands, wishing she could think of something better to say, something that would melt away all the tension and would allow them to hold one another. Her fingers were itching to reach out for him, but she could not summon up the courage to translate her wishes into the actual movements. W _e both lack confidence in this. We are both too scared to take the first step._ But the first step had been taken before, yet every time it was just as hard as before. _Bugger my own insecurity. Bugger his as well._

‘You know,’ she said when Thorin opted on his favourite tactic to convey disagreement once again. ‘We are being a bunch of idiots about this.’ This was not something she would usually say; she wasn’t that blunt when it came to talking about them. And perhaps that was exactly the problem. They had been tip-toeing around the bloody elephant in the room since all of this began, pretending it didn’t exist, careful not to wake it up.

Some might argue that now was really not the time, that there was a much bigger problem to focus on, but Kate thought not. _How will we ever face Thranduil if we cannot even face ourselves?_

And she certainly got a reaction out of her husband-to-be, if not exactly a verbal one. His head shot up and, had he been taller than her, he would have stared her down. Instead he levelled as stern a look at her as he could muster, a silent command for her to elaborate.

Which she did. ‘We’re being so careful about our feelings, careful not to show them or speak of them in one breath with insult and sarcasm.’ The last one obviously applied to her. It was just what she did, but that did not necessarily make it right. ‘And I don’t want that.’ _I’m so tired of fighting._ Could she at least be given this to fall back on? ‘We’re always afraid one of us will back out of this somehow when we both rationally know that is never going to happen.’

Now she certainly had his attention. ‘You are afraid I would abandon you?’

 _Time to own up to your faults, Andrews._ ‘I used to be,’ she said. Most of her fear had been subconscious, but it had played a role in her reluctance to let herself get close to Thorin, among other things. ‘And I do occasionally freak out at the hostility I’m met with by some. I know you won’t leave me, with my head. I need to start feeling it and, I guess, so do you. ‘I’m guessing you’re much the same.’

 _We need certainty, something to build on, something from which there is no way back. He is not the only one to need it. I do just as much._ It wasn’t something she had realised until now, but now that she had, some things started to make sense. Because she had been holding back as much as Thorin, always thinking she could handle things on her own, making decisions on her own – and she was more or less surprised she hadn’t gotten a reprimand for her unauthorised evacuation mission yet – while they should start working as the team they had been in Mirkwood, before the kiss that had both exposed their feelings and at the same time had put an end to that easy cooperation they had going. _We need to get that back if we want this to work._

‘What are you proposing?’ Thorin asked. His verbalism was still extremely limited, but they didn’t need always get words – although it would be nice at times like this – to get the message across. He was listening to her and, if she was reading these signs right, he might even be somewhat agreeing with what she was saying.

‘We get married. For real.’ Marriage in Kate’s eyes equalled certainty. She certainly would not make the mistake to think that it was a free ticket to a happy ending – her own parents were proof enough of that – but it may just give them the thing they needed most. And they would be fighting for the rest of their days anyway. It would be better to have a solid foundation to build on, to fall back on, even if the world would come down around them. ‘You asked me to, I accepted. Let’s just do it.’

‘That is not how it is done among my people,’ Thorin reminded her, but there was interest in his eyes and a small smile tugging at his lips. Oh yes, he could definitely see the appeal of it, but he seemed determined not to be too eager about it.

‘We’re already as unconventional as they come, and it is not as if anyone is ever going to know the truth about how it was done anyway,’ Kate argued. ‘And I am not saying we should marry right this instant, but when the negotiations are concluded perhaps. Soon anyway.’ The sooner the better, really.

The smile became real now, softening the stern lines on his face, smoothing out the frown. ‘Soon,’ he agreed.

‘Soon,’ she echoed. There was a smile fighting its way to her face as well. It was like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. It didn’t end her worries, or her regrets – life was never that simple – but it made her feel stronger, more confident. That in and out of itself was a hard enough thing to come by.

He surprised her then, capturing her lips in a kiss just as passionate as he had given her the day they’d conceived the unborn child in her womb. It felt like they sealed that promise with this kiss, but it was also a promise in its own right. No more leaving, no more walls between them.

Kate Andrews agreed with that wholeheartedly.

***

There was a confidence to be seen in Kate that Thorin had not witnessed often before, if he had seen it at all. For the first time since he had known her did she seem at ease dealing with his people, even managing a smile and respectful nod at Blackbeard – he should be careful not to refer to Lord Walin by his nickname in conversation, even though it fit him well – when she passed him in the hallway. The courtesy was not returned. He managed a nod – whether or not it was meant in a respectful way was up for debate – but he clearly choked on the smile. Kate, uncharacteristically, didn’t seem to notice.

Matters had not drastically changed now that they had agreed to get married as soon as circumstances would allow it, but it had taken away some of the uncertainties he still felt. It made him feel as if maybe they could really stand a chance to work it all out. Since matters had rarely worked out for Thorin in the past, this was a feeling that might take some getting used to.

Maybe it was for that very reason that he had not called on Kate to answer for the decision to retreat into the Mountain. At first he had bristled at the mere idea of running away, but Toigan had been as kind as to explain her reasoning – a reasoning of which Toigan himself clearly approved – and he had started to see the merits of her scheme. Now that he was back behind the thick walls, he did feel safer. That of course he would never admit to out loud.

Meanwhile there were still Thranduil and Erland to deal with, although it would mainly be the former. The latter would do whatever Thranduil told him to do. By the look of things, that had always been the way of it.

There was a lot to be done before the meeting could take place, and it transformed the Mountain into a place of frantic activity once again. Dori had whisked Kate away the moment he laid eyes on her with the announcement that she could not appear at that meeting in the garb she was currently wearing, and Kate’s protests that her appearance was not going to sway Thranduil’s opinion of her had fallen on deaf ears. Thorin had expected no different.

He knew he should probably go in search of some clean clothing himself, but had been side-tracked by the return of the party that had gone in pursuit of the fleeing remnants of Bolg’s army. Fíli would be among them, he knew, and he was eager to see at least one of his sister-sons still alive. Fíli likely did not even know yet that he no longer had a brother. Thorin mentally shrunk away from telling him the news, but it would be better coming from him than from anyone else.

These past few days he had not thought about Fíli as much as he should, and he knew full well he had done it on purpose, to avoid thinking about this very moment. But with him back in Erebor, it could be delayed no longer. Deep down he dreaded the conversation that was lying ahead. It needed to be done all the same, before someone else did it. He was no coward that he would use someone to do his dirty work for him.

It was slow-going with his knee being injured as it was, but he made it to the gates faster than he probably should have; his leg was throbbing, but it was something he could ignore. The troops had all come in, some still wrinkling their noses after being confronted with the smell of rotting dragon they’d had to endure to get here. Fíli was standing right in the middle of that group. To his relief Thorin noticed Bombur and Glóin with him; they had not been found among the injured, and part of him had feared them long since dead.

His company had fared better in the battle than Dáin’s people. The death toll was high, too high, but as far as Thorin was aware, Kíli had been the only death of the people he’d travelled with. Others had been injured, but they lived. But the one Thorin would have given his own life for was dead and maimed. He would have traded places with Kíli in a heartbeat if only such a thing was possible, but it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to tell the most horrible news to Fíli.

As if he had been able to hear his thoughts, Fíli turned around and caught sight of him. ‘Thorin.’ There was relief in his voice, and no small measure of it. ‘It is good to see you.’

Thorin only nodded. ‘And you,’ he returned the compliment. There were some scratches on Fíli, but not very many. He had indeed done well, proved himself a worthy heir. He could not bring himself to say that an unborn baby was about to replace him.

‘The orcs have been destroyed,’ Fíli said. He was trying his hardest to match Thorin’s stern and serious expression, but the youthful glee at being victorious was shining through, tugging at the corners of his mouth, sparking in his eyes. The glory of a battle won with no significant losses. Thorin knew what it felt like. He had fought a great many fights – skirmishes more than battles, truth be told – when nobody that meant anything to him had been killed. It made the victory taste so much sweeter. This he remembered well.

And he was about to sour it for Fíli forever.

‘Uncle?’ The more informal title snapped the King under the Mountain right back out of his musings. There was worry in Fíli’s eyes and something akin to understanding as well. He knew that something was not as it should be. He should have known that the eldest of Dís’s sons knew him long enough to know all his tells. He seldom used that knowledge, because it was not his place to question his uncle and king, but this was the aftermath of a battle, and he wanted to know what Thorin was not sharing with him.

‘Walk with me.’ It was more of a command than an invitation.

Under any other circumstance it would have made Thorin feel so proud to see Fíli hand over the command of the troops to Glóin and instruct him to make sure there were healers to see to their hurts, food to fill their bellies and beds to sleep in. It came so natural to him. He had been born to do this, had always been the far more responsible one. Where Kíli was far more light-hearted, Fíli had inherited the unique Durin trait to worry. His tendency to do so did not equal Thorin’s by a long way – and Kíli had always made sure it stayed that way – but it had been wakened now.

‘What has happened?’ It was all wrong; he sounded too old. ‘What losses have we suffered?’

‘Only one,’ Thorin answered, instinctively sensing that Fíli meant their company rather than the forces Dáin had brought. Those losses were indeed severe, worse than Thorin had expected, worse than their people could afford. _Will we ever stop losing so much? How much more can we lose before we die out?_ ‘Injuries, aye, more than enough.’ He was the living proof of that.

Fíli was quiet for a time. He sat himself down on a nearby bench, leaving Thorin little choice but to join him. It was done to make him sit and rest his leg, but unlike Kate he was subtle about it. It was a kindness, a blessing. Thorin sent up a silent thanks to Mahal that at least this one still remained to him.

‘Who has died?’ he asked eventually.

How to say this? How did one become the bearer of news like this, news that was too terrible to even contemplate, never mind relay to others. And Fíli was Kíli’s older brother. From the moment the latter was born, they had been inseparable.

‘Uncle?’ The gentle request to speak made him feel even worse about what he had to say.

And so he answered with only just one word. ‘Kíli.’

It pained Thorin to say it, but it pained Fíli more to hear it. He looked like he had been hit hard and then his face froze in a way that reminded Thorin only too much of himself. And while he was content with being who he was, the last thing he wanted was for his sister-son to turn into him. That was not how he was meant to be.

‘How?’ The silence that preceded that question felt like it had lasted an eternity, but then the question was asked.

And it was in no way easier to answer, but it was the least Thorin owed him, to tell him how his brother died. ‘He was beheaded by Bolg.’ He kept on reliving that moment over and over again. He had not answered Kate when she had asked him why he was up so late, but he had a lingering suspicion that she knew all the same. The moment he closed his eyes he was back on that battlefield, watching in despair as the inevitable happened right in front of him. Every time he was too slow to stop it. ‘The monster was slain shortly after.’ _But not by my hand_. Grateful though he was for Beorn’s timely interference, Thorin still begrudged him the honour of having killed Bolg. It should have been Thorin to deal the killing blow. That would have been the end of a long feud, ended in the way it should have been ended.

Fíli nodded. His face had become an unreadable mask. Nothing could be learned from it. _He is becoming someone he should never be_. Thorin remembered that once he had not been so different from Fíli. Yes, there had been a tendency to worry, a tendency Frerin had always held in check, even after the dragon had taken everything from them. It wasn’t until he looked out over the blood-stained valley of Azanulbizar that he realised that he had lost nothing before that day, nothing that truly mattered. That battle had made him into what he was today, and without Frerin there to stop him, nothing and no one had even tried to stop that from happening. _I do not wish such a fate on him._

‘I am sorry,’ he spoke softly, laying a hand on Fíli’s shoulder. After all that he had tried to do to prevent Kate’s book from coming true, he had failed. Partly failed, maybe, but it was a failure all the same.

‘His body?’ Fíli asked. He had stiffened the moment Thorin had offered his support, as if it was an unwanted thing that he wanted to shake off. Thorin tried not to feel the hurt at the rejection so keenly, but he did. Did Fíli blame him for his brother’s death? He was not very wrong to do so, he knew. If he had just been quicker, if he had only assigned Kíli to guard Kate during the battle, if, if, if. What was done, was done. He could not turn back time on itself and do it all over again.

‘Is being prepared for burial,’ he replied.

He had seen to it himself. There was not much that he could do for Kíli, but this he would do. When Dáin’s people were done with their preparations, it would seem as if Kíli’s head had never been parted from his body, they had promised him solemnly. It would seem as if he was only sleeping. The dignity Bolg had tried to take would be restored. None would see the violation that had been inflicted on the body. It was a small consolation only, but a consolation all the same and Thorin had thanked them for it.

‘We will bury him with all honour he deserves,’ he added. Anything less would be a grave insult.

The clicking of heels on marble brought them both back to the here and now. Kate came marching over, clad in a simple grey dress with a slightly darker grey cloak over it. Her hair had been braided back, but nothing elaborate had been done to it. Knowing Dori, Thorin suspected Kate would have had a difficult time dissuading him from having his way with it. But it was appropriate under the given circumstances. This was not a day for bright colours.

‘Thorin? We need to go.’ She was half-looking at that strange device from her world that she had a habit of wearing around her wrist, something she could apparently tell the time from. But because her eyes were on that rather than him, she did not see Fíli immediately. Only when she looked up did she see that he was not alone. ‘Fíli, you’re back!’

‘Did you know?’ Fíli asked, not answering her with a greeting of his own, as he might have done before Thorin told him the news.

Kate seemed confused for only a moment, but then she caught on. ‘You just told him,’ she said to Thorin. It was a statement rather than a question. She knew.

Thorin only nodded. ‘I did.’

Kate bit her lip. ‘I am so sorry, Fíli,’ she said. Only a fool would doubt the sincerity in her voice. ‘I wish there was something I could have done.’

‘Did you know?’ Fíli asked again. It made Thorin uneasy to know exactly who had been the grand example for his current conduct. He himself tended to ignore the things said to him in favour of pressing his own point. And Fíli was on to something now; he was unlikely to let this go. Had Thorin been in his shoes, he may not have either.

‘I did,’ Kate answered, opting on blunt honesty rather than evasive tactics. ‘It’s in the book; I’ve always known.’ Her hands were shaking.

She had carried this knowledge with her from the moment they met her. Thorin himself gained it months after that, and he had not found it easy. How had Kate done it? How did one befriend someone when one knew they would die before the end?

Fíli perked up as if stung by a wasp. ‘You knew and never said?’

Anger blazed in Kate’s eyes. ‘What should I have said? That he was destined to die? That you were destined to die, that Thorin was destined to die? I have done what I could, what little I could, but this was a battle in which I was not allowed to participate. What would you have me do?’ She threw her hands up in the air. ‘Even so, that is not how it works. You all seem to treat the bloody thing like it is the gospel, and it isn’t!’

Fíli had turned pale the moment Kate mentioned that Kíli had not been the only one to die according to her book. Thorin was aware of this only too well, had been dreading it from the moment he had read her book. No, he had not feared for his own life, but he had feared for theirs, had sometimes found it difficult to breathe because of it. And yet here he was, and here Fíli was. They lived and the circumstances of the battle had not been all that different from how the story described. It was not a reliable source of information, yet they had often treated it as such, because there was nothing else to go on.

‘Your book, it says that Thorin and I…?’ The timid tone of voice was nothing like Fíli at all.

‘Yes,’ Kate admitted. ‘And I swear to you, I’ve been trying to change what little I could, but a battle, it’s just so bloody unpredictable, and the book has not always been that reliable. There was nothing I could do. If I could, I would have done it in a heartbeat.’

 _You are not the one to blame_. If anyone could be blamed for not doing enough, then Thorin feared that he was the one who should shoulder that responsibility. Kate had no part in it, and she should not believe that she had it either.

‘Kate is not to blame,’ he heard himself say.

‘No, she is not,’ Fíli said. He was still pale, but he had always been reasonable. ‘But she could have told me. And so could you. Clearly you knew. Did you not think I would have had the right to know this? I could have protected him.’ There was the kind of cold fire in his eyes that Thorin often felt himself when his anger was woken.

Kate had gone very quiet after her outburst, but now she leapt to his defence. ‘Are you as big a fool as your uncle and have I just never noticed this before now? It’s no one’s bloody fault! It happened. It just happened! None of us are to blame.’

Yes, it happened. Rationally Thorin knew that Kate was right, but it was a hard thing to feel, especially now. He was not all that convinced that he could not have done more than he had done. But yes, it was done now. No power in the world could restore the dead to life, not even a wizard’s power. That was common knowledge, but it did not make Kíli’s passing or the silent accusation in Fíli’s eyes any easier to bear.

‘And we do not have the time for this,’ Kate said. ‘We need to leave now. The last thing we need is to give Thranduil an excuse to begin a war because of our tardiness.’ It sounded like the excuse that it was, but at the same time it was true; Thranduil was not someone to be kept waiting. Thorin entertained the wish to make Thranduil wait for at least an hour on the next diplomatic visit he would pay to Erebor, when the kingdom was back to its former strength, but that was a luxury that he did not have now.

He nodded. ‘You are welcome to join us,’ he told Fíli. For now at least, he was still his heir. However, that was a subject that would be needing attention sooner rather than later, but not quite yet. There were only so many blows he was capable of dealing, unless the insufferable elf was the intended recipient, naturally.

His sister-son only nodded. ‘I will meet you at the gates.’

He marched off before Thorin could reply to that, and in his current condition he was not fast enough to keep up with him. And even if he could, he would not know what to say or what to do. Comforting people, even his kin, did not come easy to him. And so he let Fíli go.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kate muttered, directing her eyes at the floor rather than at his face. ‘I wish I knew how to do this right, and I just don’t.’ She bit her lip. ‘And everything I could think of saying would probably just sound horribly cliché.’

‘Nothing I would say now will stop him from blaming me.’ This was the one thing that Thorin was quite certain of. And Mahal, did that hurt. It made his physical injuries pale in comparison. Kíli was dead, Fíli lost to him in quite another way. What victory was this when no joy could be gained from it?

‘Nothing either of us would say would make him feel better now, I suspect,’ Kate said. ‘Not exactly the comforting thing to hear, I know. I can’t think of a single thing to say or do that would make this right somehow.’ _And I wish I could_. Thorin could hear what she didn’t say. Maybe one of these days he would read her as well as she read him.

‘We should not keep the elf waiting,’ he reminded her.

Kate grimaced. ‘Heaven forbid. The world would end.’

They made their way to the gates in silence. Thorin would not know what words to say, and clearly Kate had run out as well. Or maybe she was saving them, for when she would need them to battle Thranduil and Erland with them.

On second thought, she would need them sooner, because when they arrived at the gates all the people Thorin requested were there, with the addition of one unwelcome other.

Kate saw it too and marched straight to Toigan. ‘What the bloody hell is Blackbeard doing here?’ she hissed in a low voice so that aforementioned dwarf and Dáin would not hear.

She fixed him with a glare just as Thorin did the same. The last thing he needed was to bring one more hostile party to the negotiations. Hostility would be all too easy to come by there even without bringing it himself. And he was certain he had all but ordered Toigan to keep Lord Walin away from this meeting. By the looks of things, Kate had done the same thing.

‘Lord Dáin rather insisted on bringing him. He says he values Lord Walin’s advice greatly.’ It was a small consolation that Toigan himself looked rather unhappy about this turn of events. ‘There was nothing I could do. My apologies.’

Thorin nodded. ‘There is nothing to forgive.’ Unfortunate though that it was.

‘Imagine it all going our way, just for once,’ Kate complained under her breath once they’d squeezed themselves past the dragon’s corpse and they were waiting for the others of their envoy to do the same. ‘It is not that much to ask, is it? Just one time.’

Thorin only managed another nod. He privately agreed. There were days when it felt as though all the world was conspiring against him, and had been doing so all his life. This was such a day.

_Will it ever end?_

Sometimes he doubted it most sincerely.

And he doubted it even more when he was welcomed into the tent – if such a word could be used for the cold and barely polite reception he and his were given upon arrival – and he saw the people in attendance. Thranduil was there, with his son and advisors. His new captain of the guard was strangely absent. Bearing in mind that Elvaethor had been relieved of his duties after being too friendly with Thorin’s people, he may need to consider the possibility that Tauriel’s actions during the battle had not been received well either. He may count himself lucky that the insect was here at all, although more as a guard and butler than advisor. Dislike him though he did, Elvaethor was not a hostile presence.

Which was more than could be said for the Men. Erland and his cronies – a term Kate had applied to them and that Thorin found oddly fitting – were there, facial expressions as cold as the air outside. Bard had come as well, but in what capacity, Thorin could not say. But Girion’s heir smiled at them and managed a polite greeting that he seemed to mean. Their agreement may yet stand.

Gandalf and the elvish mind-reader were present as well, which did not surprise Thorin at all, even though he still wondered why Lady Galadriel was here at all.

 _You have done the world a great service, Thorin Oakenshield._ All of a sudden there was a voice in his head, a low woman’s voice. He had heard the elvish lady speak only once or twice before, but it was enough to recognise that she was the one that belonged to it. _Greater powers than you can imagine would have turned the dragon into a force for evil had he been allowed to live._

She must have read his mind and answered the question she found there. It was strangely unsettling. Kate had mentioned that it had been done to her, and she had been rather angry over it too. Thorin had thought that, although intruding, it was at least a useful way of exchanging information without any others hearing. And it was this particular skill of Lady Galadriel’s that had enabled them to apprehend Nói. But now that he was the one subjected to it, he changed his mind.

 _Speak to me in words that all can hear, or do not speak at all,_ he thought. If this worked how he thought it did, she would hear him. _And I did the world no service. The service was to my people._

Nothing had been farther from his mind than making the world a safer place. If anything, he remembered all too well he had wished to point Smaug in the direction of Mirkwood and let him wreak some havoc there. Maybe if Bilbo had told the drake they’d had help in Mirkwood – and not in Esgaroth like he had done in Kate’s book – then the beast might have flown there and laid waste to it. With things being as they were, he almost regretted not doing it.

And he truly regretted it the moment he saw the gleam in Thranduil’s eyes. With introductions and greetings out of the way, he placed his attention on Kate.

‘Please, you should be sitting down, Queen Catherine,’ he said. ‘Despite our differences, I will not have it said of me that I let a woman in your condition stand for such extended periods of time.’

Thorin went rigid for a moment. He wouldn’t dare, would he? He hadn’t had the time yet to break the news of Kate’s pregnancy to his own people, to his kin. Fíli did not know yet. And he should not hear it from the lips of that malicious elf. Enough harm had been done to his sister-son without Thranduil adding insult to injury as he was so clearly planning on doing.

Kate apparently had the same thought. ‘Your concern is touching.’ It was more of a sneer than a true appreciation of Thranduil’s self-proclaimed concern. ‘But my injury was not so grave that I cannot stand for a little while, especially since it was the captain of your own guard who looked after me. As you know, the skill of your healers is almost unsurpassed.’ She took care to stress the _almost_ in that sentence.

It was one of the things she did best, evading the true point. She navigated this maze of lies and backstabbing with words so much better than Thorin ever had, but even she was no match for an elf with thousands of years to his name. And Thorin already knew from experience that the king of Mirkwood was not easily dissuaded from doing what he wanted. It would take someone like him to do that, and Kate was nothing like Thranduil at all.

‘It was not your injury that I was referring to, Queen Catherine.’ The smile was so false that Thorin could see straight through it. ‘I was of course referring to your other condition. You _are_ with child, are you not?’

The silence that followed this so innocently phrased question was deafening.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _He didn’t! The bloody bastard! I could wring his pale neck and run him through with my sword. What the hell is he playing at?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that bomb has been dropped. Next time: reactions.  
> And, as you can see, I managed this chapter rather quickly. I’m hoping to get one more done before Saturday, but I can’t make any promises, only that I’m trying my hardest.  
> Thank you for reading. As always, if you have a minute, a review would be much appreciated.


	92. Moment of Truth

_Suffice it to say that there have been very few occasions where I hated Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, as much as I did then. When I read the book back in my world I didn’t like him all that much either, but I at least thought that he was one of the good guys, not about to side with the orcs or Sauron. And while I don’t think that Thranduil would ever do that, this does not automatically make him a good guy. Neither white nor black, but grey, that is what Thranduil is, a very shady kind of character. Although, if you ask me, he is a very dark grey._

_What he did that day sealed my view of him forever and set the course for the future. There is a lot I was and am willing to overlook in the name of peace and stability, but not that, not such a deliberate attempt at undermining us and setting us on one another. All of a sudden it was not all that hard to see exactly why Thorin loathed the elvish ways. Thranduil was playing dirty._

_Come to think of it, I have never known him to play nice, not even once. It’s just not in his nature, or maybe it is just something he does when he is forced to deal with our people from time to time. I would not know what drives him to pull stunts like that time and again, but fact remains that he does it, and I hate it with a passion._

_And believe you me, that day was not even the worst of his dirty tactics. No, I think the most memorable occasion was sometime after the twins’ birth. Thranduil had come to Erebor under the guise of expressing his congratulations at the birth of twins, so rare for our people and even rarer for his. Truth is that we were stuck in some very difficult talks concerning the roads leading through our respective territories. He was keeping his foot down and Thorin was not budging an inch either, which led to vexation on both sides. As all of you can testify, your father is not the easiest person to deal with when confronted with elves in general, and that Mirkwood elf in particular. Goodness knows what Thranduil does when he is annoyed. I’ve always liked to paint a mental picture of him sulking in his room, throwing vases against the wall, but I fear this is rather far from the truth. It still amuses me though._

_Anyway, we were stuck and Thranduil finally sensed an opportunity for breaking the impasse in his favour, using his favourite tactic of causing strife in our midst. That way, when he has us divided and squabbling among ourselves, we are more likely to give in to his demands._

_So, when seeing Jack and Cathy, the only thing he said besides the pleasantries expected of him was: ‘Well then, King Thorin, they do not take after you much, it seems. Are you quite certain that they are yours?’ He ended with a laugh that would make a more gullible person think it was all said in jest and good humour, but I have known that elf too long to fall for it. His words were his weapons, and he wielded them with a skill not many people possess._

_And the effects of this particular bloody stunt lasted long. Soon enough followed the rumours that Thorin had been played for a fool and that his so-called youngest children had been fathered by some man from Dale. I’ve never seen Thorin quite so mad before as he was when he first heard the story. But rumours are such difficult things to disprove and even harder, if not impossible, to kill. And we’re still plucking the poisonous fruits of Thranduil’s “harmless” remark to this very day. It’s a small consolation that we got our way in the talks themselves, but our success certainly came at a cost._

_Having said that, it was far better to belong to Durin’s Folk than to the Men’s in cases like these. Because there is this remarkable thing dwarves have that other races don’t have, not in the way dwarves have it anyway: loyalty. Whenever one of their own is targeted by an outside presence, they rally to that person’s defence, no matter how many issues they have with the person in question._

_But I did not know that yet, nor did I truly feel like I actually belonged with them yet, and so I felt like I had swallowed a chunk of ice and was roasted over a fire at the same time when that thrice-damned elf dropped his bomb on us…_

 

Kate was forced to clench her hands into fists to prevent the trembling from showing. She was rooted to the spot, unable to think properly. Her fight-or-flight instinct was currently pointing right at flight. She wanted out of here and she wanted out of here right now. What the bloody hell did Thranduil think he was doing, spilling the beans like that? He must have known it was still something of a secret that she was pregnant; the triumphant gleam in his eyes gave him away immediately. He was trying to tear them apart. No, scratch that; he was trying to get them to tear one another apart. And the worst thing was that he might even get exactly what he wanted.

But there was no way in hell that she could deny it, not without lying through her teeth, and that would gain her nothing in the long run. It would be obvious before too long that she was indeed pregnant.

So she went with honesty. ‘I am indeed. But last I checked that did not make me an invalid.’ A bit senseless to say maybe, with Thorin’s leg being as it was, but the shock had taken most of her control away. This was what she wanted to say, and so she said it.

And it had not escaped her notice that the rest of her companions had reacted with shock to what Thranduil had just said. Fíli, who had not looked all that healthy to begin with, had paled a little further. Kate could read the silent accusation in his eyes. This was another thing they had not told him, and this was hardly the time nor place to tell him that she had not known herself for all that long. Blackbeard’s reaction was predictable. It was the lemon face all over again. Loni appeared to be in shock. Ragnar was blinking as if he had something in his eye, alternating between staring at her and the elf who had told the news. Toigan too reacted with surprise, but he kept better control of his facial expression than the others. What Dáin thought was a mystery. Sometime when she wasn’t looking he must have mastered the art, following Thorin’s example.

Not that her husband-to-be was setting much of an example now. He seemed to be only seconds away from reaching over the table to grab the elven king by the collar and do him some undefined but undoubtedly serious bodily harm. _And he certainly would be right to do so. God knows I wish I could do it myself._

But diplomacy dictated that sort of behaviour was out of the question. If there was any justice in the world at all, he would have his comeuppance someday, but it was clear as day that it would not be today. The only thing they could do now was damage control, which was a hard thing, because Kate Andrews did not feel like controlling any damage. If anything, she very much felt like dealing out damage.

 _Control yourself, Andrews,_ she reprimanded herself.

‘I was merely being kind,’ Thranduil said innocently.

 _The day he is being merely kind is the day I’ll grow a beard and become a dwarf for real._ Nevertheless she forced a smile and thanked him for his kindness. Kate hoped that her eyes conveyed the message that she would rather see him hang from the highest tree, preferably one from his own thrice-cursed forest. That would be strangely fitting. She may not be able to put her thoughts into the spoken word, but she could damn well look in whatever way she pleased.

All parties took their places and negotiations began. First the aftermath of the battle came under discussion. The losses had been great everywhere, but the dwarves seemed to have suffered most.

 _We were the target. The others were only collateral damage, standing in the way,_ Kate understood. Bolg’s feud was with Thorin and his people. Everyone else had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They had been an added bonus, but not the main prize. _Lately it seems Thorin and his people are the main target of everyone_. These people here were better than orcs, but some only just, and Kate made herself no illusions: they would not have to look for kindness here. There was none to be found.

Still, the morning passed without major incidents. Kate reckoned that was only because they were still talking about losses, supplies and search parties. There had been minor verbal stabs, but the topic under discussion were too grave for much enmity. The battlefield had been searched thoroughly, and it seemed as though everyone belonging to the Free Folk had been found. Corpses were being identified as they spoke.

None of these things made Kate feel any better. Reading about battles was one thing, being in one of them quite another. But why was it that almost no one ever made mention of the depressing aftermath, of facing the cost of that battle, of seeing the mutilations and injuries? And certainly no one had ever told Kate about organising burials and the like. How the others could sit here so calmly was entirely beyond her.

_It’s even more depressing than I thought it would be._

She had seen it on her way here, yesterday as she made her way through camp, when she walked through the Mountain: injury and death, far too much of it. Yet here they were, the leaders of all those people, arguing as if no battle had ever taken place. _How has this even become my life?_ It was a question she had asked herself more than once over the last few months. Kate had a feeling she might be asking it the rest of her life.

And it was just about to get worse.

‘I could not help but notice that you have moved your people into Erebor, King Thorin,’ Lord Erand remarked. He had been very quiet so far. Bard had done most of the talking for his people, relaying what losses had been suffered and what had been done for those who had been wounded. Of course it would have been too much to hope that he would just keep his mouth shut. He seemed incapable of it anyway.

‘I have,’ Thorin said curtly.

‘I cannot help but wonder why,’ Erland pressed on, conveniently ignoring the less than subtle signs to back off and leave it. ‘Did you not have access to the best of healers here? Did we not all agree to help one another in a spirit of friendship?’

 _What friendship would that be?_ Kate wondered. _The one where you get all of the dwarves’ wealth with our blessing? In which case you can keep on dreaming._

Her mouth was quicker than Thorin’s. ‘As my memory serves that agreement still holds, Lord Erland. Why, I have seen our own healers still working side by side with yours when I came here this morning. I have seen our people working together in search parties as well. One of those returned just as my party arrived here. Pray tell, how have we broken this agreement?’

One that was made by mutual understanding rather than by actual agreement, if she might add. There had been no such thing as a meeting to write down what should be done after the fighting. They had agreed to fight a common foe, but that had been as far as it went. And there was no way that Lord Erland didn’t know that.  
‘It is only a small number that is left,’ Lainor chimed in. ‘Do you not trust us with your wounded?’

 _Too right, I don’t._ Toigan had been right when he told her that this decision would not go over well with their former allies. Thranduil’s allies once again. _Ours no longer._ She would do well to remember this.

None of her party made any move to answer that, so it was left to her. Maybe that was only fair; it had been her decision after all, so it would be hers to defend it. ‘The cold winter is no place for our wounded,’ she said curtly. ‘As you have heard, we have many. My people have taken the brunt of the orcs’ wrath. Do you not think they deserve it to have sufficient shelter? And now that Erebor is ours once again, it would be more than foolish not to make use of it.’

Several eyes narrowed around the table. _Oh bugger._

‘An invitation was not extended to your allies,’ one of Erland’s advisors said. His name escaped Kate for the moment.

‘True,’ she said. ‘We did not extend such an invitation.’ _You have homes of your own to return to if you want to. I’m not keeping you here._ That of course was something she couldn’t say, but it was on the tip of her tongue all the same. This was one bloody mess.

‘We have never invited outsiders into our kingdoms often,’ Dáin spoke up. Kate was so surprised that he had even spoken that for a moment she could only stare at the Lord of the Iron Hills in unflattering disbelief. He had not given her the impression that he liked her or her decisions at all – something that had only been underlined by his distinct lack of input at the meeting yesterday – but here he was, backing her up. _And here I was thinking that Thorin was the riddle wrapped up in a mystery. Clearly I was mistaken._ ‘Why would we do so now?’

Thranduil’s smile predicted trouble, and sure enough trouble followed right in its wake. ‘Some of us took it to mean that things were changing now that you have a woman of Men for a queen. You have allowed an outsider into your midst and clearly she has some power among you. She seems to be doing most of your talking for you.’

Kate made a solemn promise to herself to keep her mouth well and truly shut for the duration of the talks. _Bloody hell, I knew this would come back to haunt me one day._ That day had arrived sooner than she thought it would come.

And maybe she should not have been so surprised at all. Thranduil and his allies – because that was really the way of it here – were playing as dirty as they could, and there was very little that Kate could think of that might make them back off. In fact, she should probably hold her tongue. She hardly wanted to give Thranduil another reason for accusing her of doing most of the talking. But it was hard. Words were the only weapon she could wield well, and to not use it when someone used them against her was a very trying thing.

‘Queen Catherine is not an outsider,’ someone countered. For a moment Kate thought it was Loni. The voice sounded somewhat like him. But it wasn’t him. He stood next to Toigan, mouth firmly shut. But then who…?

There were no words to describe her shock when she realised that it had been Blackbeard who had spoken. He had done a step forward, fixing the elven king with a stern stare from which he should probably have dropped dead on the spot. And he was standing up for her. The very thought of it was so absurd that Kate discreetly pinched herself to make sure that she was in fact awake. She was. Neither was she having a fever that could possibly account for this vivid hallucination. But it wasn’t an illusion. It was very much real.

_What the hell?_

Blackbeard had not made it a secret that he despised her, and her presence among his people, yet here he was claiming her as one of his people. It just didn’t add up.

_What is he doing?_

_I had heard of the fabled loyalty of the dwarves,_ a voice spoke in her head. _But I had never seen it for myself until today._

It took Kate most of her self-restraint not to swivel her head in Lady Galadriel’s direction in response. That course of action was unlikely to do her any favours here. Still, the whole mind-reading thing freaked her out. It was the uncertainty of not knowing what thoughts were still private and what thoughts were all there for the elf’s perusal. And Kate had a lot of thoughts she would rather keep very, very private.

Curiosity won out in the end. _What do you mean?_

The silence in her head lasted so long that Kate almost thought she was not going to get an answer at all, but then the elven lady responded at last. _You are one of them now, Catherine Andrews._

Kate mentally snorted. _Then someone has changed his tune. I assure you Blackbeard was not all that happy to have me only yesterday._

She regretted her words almost the second she thought them. Damn, that had not been her intention at all. It was none of the elf’s business what went on in those meetings, not as long as she was not one hundred per cent convinced Galadriel could be trusted. But that was the thing about conversations like these; as soon as she thought it, it was said. Normally she could sort of edit her thoughts before they rolled off her tongue. She did not have that luxury now.

 _You have much to learn about your people, Catherine Andrews_. The use of her full name was getting on Kate’s nerves. She supposed she should be glad Galadriel didn’t throw her middle name in there for good measure. _The world thinks you belong to them, and by rights you do. They may quarrel with you in private, but they will defend you from the world to their dying breaths._

This explanation at least made sense of Blackbeard’s weird behaviour, but other than that it did not make a ton of sense at all. So yes, she could get the idea of presenting a united front, because if they showed as much as a hint of discord, the elves and men would descend on them like vultures and tear them apart. That was something she could understand only too well. It was why she put up with Blackbeard’s presence in the first place.

But defending her like that, that went beyond presenting a united front. That went a whole lot further and a whole lot deeper. Kate herself only did such things for the people she really cared about, not for people she snapped at in private. Had it been Thorin who had been insulted, then she would not have hesitated to do for him what Blackbeard had just done for her. And she would not have stopped to think to leap to Fíli’s defence either. She may have done it even for Toigan and Ragnar, who she didn’t know all that well. Maybe, if she was really vexed and needed an excuse to lose her temper, she might have done it for Loni or Dáin. Blackbeard however was decidedly not on her list. She had expected not to be on his either.

 _Dealing with dwarves. One of these days I will get the hang of it._ That day could not come soon enough for her. As it was, matters were increasingly confusing, something Kate disliked with a passion.

Because of her short conversation with Galadriel she had missed some of the ongoing conversation, the kind that actually made use of the spoken word. But in the time that her mind had been elsewhere, Thranduil had lost some of his smile. It was still plastered on his face, but it looked rather forced, as if it took him all his efforts to keep it there. Blackbeard was downright annoyed and she did not know for what reason.

 _Head on the game, Andrews_ , she reprimanded herself. She could not afford to let her thoughts drift today, certainly not in the present company.

‘You would refuse us shelter, then?’ the elven king said.

‘I would,’ Thorin said. The _I don’t trust you any farther than I can spit_ was more than implied, something that not quite escaped Thranduil’s notice either.

‘You do not trust us, do you, Thorin?’ The respectful title of King had gone missing without a trace. Hardly unexpected, but rude all the same.

It set Kate’s teeth on edge. ‘No, we don’t.’ The words were out in the open before she could check herself. ‘And please do forgive me for not champing at the bit to hand my trust to the man who locked me and my company up for no reason and then laid siege to our home based on excuses so flimsy that it took me less than ten seconds to see through them.’ _Stop talking, girl. This is not the time or the place_. But she was on a roll and her tongue seemed to take on a life of its own. ‘When we needed shelter, how exactly was it that you greeted us?’ She made a show of pretending to think about it. ‘Ah, yes. You had us arrested, ignored our wounded and threw us in a dungeon. A nice, clean dungeon with food and water, but a dungeon all the same. And now you have the guts to stand here and all but demand hospitality? You, sir, are a fool if you think we would ever consider such a thing.’

For a moment silence ruled supreme. Kate could almost taste the shock in the air. Then the insulted faces came on. She didn’t dare look at her own company to see what they thought about her little undiplomatic outburst. _Galadriel had better be right about that defending to their dying breath thing, because they look like they’re out for blood._ Her blood, to be precise.

‘You have a very bold tongue, Queen Catherine,’ Lainor said eventually; his king was still too busy choking on her words.

‘No bolder than I should have,’ she returned. ‘I have not told you lies, just truths that you would rather have kept hidden.’ _And I am not the one that started with playing dirty. I am merely returning the favour._ But she had regained enough control to keep those words in her head. Of course there was no telling whether or not they were heard by an elvish mind-reader anyway.

‘What of my people?’ Bard asked. He had been following the conversation – although argument was probably a better word – in silence, with a facial expression that suggested he had taken lessons from Thorin.

Thorin took it upon himself to reply. ‘Our doors are open to you,’ he said. ‘If the protection of the dwarves is what you seek.’

Kate had heard in passing that while they were squabbling over gold before the battle, the people of Lake-town had split into factions. One group was taking their chances with Bard and the promise of a city rebuilt, while the others stuck with Lord Erland. The safe option, Kate knew. Dale was only a promise still, but one that she knew Thorin was intent on making good on.

_Part of him wants everything to go back to how it was. That is what he is fighting for._

And to achieve that, he needed Bard and his followers on his side. He would probably post some more guards near the treasure room, to make sure none fell to the temptation – Bard himself was unlikely to do that; his principles were too strong – but he would welcome them into his halls and that way send a message to Erland and Thranduil as well.

By the look of things, the underlying message had not passed those two by. Thranduil’s mood had been getting steadily worse and Erland’s was following suit. This was an offence in their eyes, and a grave one at that. These negotiations were about to get even uglier than they already were.

 _So much for being civil._ They had managed it for most of the morning – apart from the little stunt he pulled with announcing her pregnancy to the world, and that was bound to be discussed at length in private – but now it had ended. This came too close to the issues that had made them foes to begin with. It was all too obvious that in that respect nothing had changed. Neither party was about to budge.

 _We are going to need a miracle._ Because this was nothing like the book, where Dáin dealt out gold and everyone went home to live happily ever after. But then, had she still been hoping for a miracle?

It was not realistic to expect, yet still she found she was still so reliant on the words in it, still letting herself be led by them. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, just something she fell back on when she didn’t know what to do anymore. But that was not how this worked anymore. It was not how it had worked ever. She had just pretended that was how things went, clinging to the book and fighting it at the same time. But now the book was done, there was no more to go on. From this point on, they would really have to find their own way and hope to God that it was the right path they chose, because this conflict was far from over.

‘I thought we had a truce,’ Lord Erland remarked. His every word tasted like poison. No doubt that was exactly how he meant it.

‘We do have a truce,’ Thorin said. They _needed_ that truce. As things were, they could not win a war. They were too weakened to fight. And while they could last a while in the Mountain, hiding behind the somewhat repaired gates and a dragon’s corpse – the stench of which should be sufficient to persuade any would-be intruder to turn tail and make a run for it – their supplies would not last beyond the month. It would be suicide to break the truce now.

‘Maybe we should discuss this tomorrow,’ Kate chimed in. ‘There are things that still need doing, none of which can be achieved by talking. And I imagine Bard would like his people to be inside the Mountain before nightfall. We can come back here tomorrow and talk about matters that do not concern the aftermath of the battle then.’ _And it will buy us some time to conjure an instant solution, if such a thing exists at all._

As if it was planned that way, one of the Men’s stomachs made a noise. It was about lunchtime, too. She could not have planned this better if she had tried. It was almost an unspoken confirmation of her idea that it was time to make an end to it. Bard was already nodding his agreement, as was Gandalf. Those two were generally the most agreeable of the whole bunch. And if Galadriel was right, the dwarves would not disagree with her in public. Now she could only hope that Erland and Thranduil were amenable.

At first the latter seemed to want to disagree, but then he swivelled his head in Galadriel’s direction, held her gaze for a few seconds and changed his mind. ‘Very well,’ he said, making it sound like it was a very great sacrifice he was making. ‘We will continue tomorrow.’ He still made it sound as if had been his idea all along. And while that was infuriating, Kate was glad that he was cooperating at least.

Whatever influence it was that Lady Galadriel had over him, Kate was grateful for it. She might even go as far as to say that she appreciated the mind-reading and talking skills of the elven lady. She may not be on their side, but at the very least she kept things civil, or as civil as was possible in the current company.

The meeting was agreed to resume the next day two hours after dawn, just as this one had been, and after that the envoys started filing out of the tent, back to their own people and their own duties. And while Kate was glad that the meeting was over before it could end in war, she did not at all look forward to that particular conversation she was bound to have with Thorin’s people now. After all, the moment they were back in Erebor, they would no longer be in public, and then there was sure to be a lot of protest to look forward to.

But there was something else she had to do first. When she had gone to dress that morning, she had taken the box with her letters with her, to give it to Gandalf, so that he could send it home. And once that had been done, there was nothing left that bound her to her own world anymore, nothing at all save for her memories and her regrets.

 _Stop wallowing, Andrews_ , she reprimanded herself. _You’ve made your choice. Now stick with it._

And so she should.

‘Gandalf, would you wait a moment, please?’ she asked as calmly as she could. Most people were out of the tent already, but the wizard was still here.

‘Of course.’ He didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about staying and given the shouting she had done only yesterday, she could not blame him, not entirely. God knew his actions had been less than honourable as well.

Thranduil was lingering just inside the tent and there were like to be more elves with heightened hearing around as well, so she would have to be careful how she phrased this. Her origins were one secret she would very much like to keep.

She held the box out to the wizard. ‘You know where to send this,’ she said. _I am so angry at you_ , she meant to say, but she couldn’t, not here. At the same time she supposed that she ought to be grateful to him as well, at least a bit. If it hadn’t been for him, she would never have had Thorin. Really, where was the mind-reader when she needed one? ‘Please send it as quickly as you can,’ she added. _They deserve to know_.

Gandalf nodded. ‘I will,’ he said. ‘You have done well, Miss Andrews.’

It was the compliment that Kate would have loved to hear a few months ago, when she wasn’t certain if she could change anything at all. In the light of recent events, though, Kate didn’t know if that was true, though.

She smiled ruefully. ‘I wish I could believe it.’ She left the tent before he could answer.

***

The cold wind that blew in his face was a welcome change from the magically created heat inside the tent. There was something very unnatural about such warmth in the dead of winter, Thorin found. Of course his own dislike of elves and their magic played a part in the forming of his opinion, but still, magic always came across as cheating to the King under the Mountain, as a shorter way to achieve one’s goal whilst skipping the labour normally necessary. Elves in particular had a nasty habit of acting like that, and yet they behaved with arrogance, as if it was their greatest accomplishment.

Kate stayed behind in the tent for a few moments after he had exited. He had seen her holding the box that he knew contained her letters, the ones he had read without her knowledge or permission. She had mentioned intending to hand them to Gandalf today so that he could send them to her family.

And that would make it real, would make it final. She would not leave. Kate Andrews had come to Middle Earth to stay. He would have celebrated the fact if he could. As it was, there was precious little to rejoice over. His sister-son was dead, the other was likely angry with him and soon enough his own people would be clamouring for something that sounded like an explanation for Kate’s pregnancy and why in Durin’s name they had not been told before Thranduil. His defence, that he had not known for much longer than they, was unlikely to pacify them.

Kate didn’t need long to deliver the box and get out. Considering the fact that Thranduil walked out scant seconds after her, he understood why. She would not have said anything in that elf’s hearing, as was only wise. The pregnancy was already one more secret that he was privy to that he shouldn’t have been. There was no telling what he would do were he to find out she hailed from another world, or that there was a book that contained knowledge of the events that had only just taken place. He’d rather never find out.

‘Is it done?’ he asked her when she joined him, taking care with his words as long as there were elves nearby.

Kate nodded. She looked tired. All the time the meeting was still ongoing she had been alert, fighting tooth and nail. Even more, she had been alive, doing what she did best. None of that energy remained now. ‘Done,’ she confirmed. ‘He said he’d send it as soon as possible.’ A wry smile appeared on her face. ‘He even told me I had done well. And I don’t think he meant the negotiations. A while ago I’d have given good money for hearing those words, but now? They don’t seem to mean anything at all. They’re just words, empty.’

Thorin was convinced that the words his lords would soon be having with him would be far from empty, and he didn’t want Kate there for it. ‘Go with Bard,’ he ordered brusquely. ‘Help him bring his people into Erebor.’ It would keep her busy, and organising things was something Kate excelled in. The Men would not have any objections to dealing with her, unlike some he could mention.

There were moments when her quick wits made an unwanted appearance. This was one such moment. ‘You’re sending me away so you can go and argue with that lot about me and the rather unexpected pregnancy Thranduil was so kind to announce until you run out of breath.’ When he didn’t answer because, yes, that was exactly what he was doing, her eyes narrowed. ‘Remember that conversation we had last night?’

Did he remember that, she asked. Of course he remembered that. Dwarven memories were long, and he would never have been able to forget that moment when she had asked him to just get married, as unconventional as you please. And he wanted that, wanted the stability that came with it, wanted an end to the uncertainty in his dealings with her. ‘I do.’

‘Don’t shut me out.’ He was left to decide whether this was a plea or a command. ‘We’ve been there, done that. Last night was supposed to make an end of that.’ There was anger there now as well, and weariness. Which was why he would not inflict Blackbeard on her.

‘I am not shutting you out.’ It was difficult, doing this, speaking what was in his heart rather than the things on his mind – and even that had never come easy to him; his heart and mind had always been very close to one another – but it was a part of the unspoken promise he had made up on the battlements. ‘But you dealt with them alone. Now I will do the same.’ Even so, it was not easy to phrase this right.

But she understood; he could see it in her eyes. ‘A kindness.’ It was no more than a whisper, but yes, she had gotten to the heart of the matter within seconds. This was exactly why he was sending her with Bard rather than to face Dáin with him.

‘Aye.’ He may not have found the word all by himself – kindness had been all too rare in his life – but that was what it was.

A smile tugged at Kate’s lips. ‘Too bad I’ll not be going. You can let Blackbeard go and do something useful for a change, but I sort of made a deal with Dáin that I’d tell him the truth. This is as good a time to come clean as any.’ _But I won’t be doing it with Blackbeard anywhere near._ He could hear that as plain as if she had spoken the words out loud. She must have realised that Lord Walin’s defence of her was only to make the elves – a common foe – back off, not an expression of what he really felt.

‘Kate…’ he began. If there was anything he had learned from travelling with this woman, then it was that it was very hard for her to let people do things for her. Instead she always insisted on fighting her own battles, a quality he both admired and strongly disliked, sometimes even at the same time.

She shook her head. ‘If we are going to fight, maybe we should start doing it together. I’m too tired of flying solo.’

He arched an eyebrow at the unfamiliar expression, but got the gist of what she was saying. ‘Flying solo?’

The smile became a little more genuine now. ‘Just an expression. Let’s just say that where I come from, birds don’t have the monopoly on airspace anymore.’

‘It must be a bewildering place,’ he observed. The more he heard about it, the more convinced he became that it was a world he would never willingly step foot.

‘No more so than this place was for me, where dwarves go on a quest to slay a dragon and argue with elves and fight orcs with actual swords while they’re at it.’ She was saying it as if none of that even existed where she had grown up. And, as if she had heard his thoughts, she added: ‘Where I come from, they’re all myths and fairy-tales. Well, except for the swords. Those actually exist. They’ve just gone out of fashion a couple of centuries ago.’

‘A bewildering place indeed.’ He suppressed the urge to ask what the people of her world used for weapons. He didn’t think Thranduil was still lingering nearby, but it wouldn’t do for any elf or man to hear what they were saying. Yes, his own people should be told, at least some of them – it was inevitable – but no others.

‘It is,’ Kate said. ‘But you’re trying to side-track me. And I am still not going. Together or not at all.’

Thorin arched an eyebrow. It almost sounded like she was quoting someone.

She smiled sheepishly. ‘Okay, I stole that line from a TV series. Story. Don’t ask me to explain.’

Thorin, who as it was had been about to do just that, closed his mouth and nodded. Kate matched him in stubbornness when push came to shove. Right now she was putting her foot down and, if he was really honest, then he wanted her with him. ‘Very well,’ he said.

‘Is that a _very well, I won’t ask_ or a _very well, you can come_?’ she asked.

‘The latter.’ Even if she had, as she said, stolen the line, he liked the sound of it. She was right too. They had spent too long thinking that they could do all by themselves while they should have been working together. It was that very thing that had almost broken them just a few weeks ago.

The relieved look in her eyes told him he had made the right decision. ‘Thank you.’ And he didn’t think that was just for letting her come with him.

He nodded, not even sure why those simple words – you’re welcome – still couldn’t find the way to his mouth. Something else came out instead. ‘They will not love you.’

Kate grimaced. ‘Tell me something I did not know already. I can handle it. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.’

‘You didn’t always,’ he pointed out. They were slowly making their way back to Erebor, a little distance behind the others, which gave them the privacy to talk.

‘True,’ she admitted. ‘If I had, it would have scared me so much that I might have refused to leave Bilbo’s home, so it’s probably for the best I didn’t know a single thing about the future. Or else where would we have been?’

 _I might have been dead._ Without Kate, the book might have come to pass after all. Not that he knew this for certain, but it was a possibility.

Kate grinned as a thought occurred to her. ‘You didn’t know what you were in for either,’ she observed. ‘I think you might have left me behind at Bag End otherwise.’

He knew himself well enough to know that to be true. ‘I would.’

There had been precious little room in his mind for anything but Erebor when he set out, and the only reason he had taken Kate along was to keep the wizard on side. Had he known then that he would be about to marry her now, he would have declared his future self a fool and left Kate behind to avoid such a fate. The journey they had gone on had changed them both. Without it, if they had met under other circumstances, they would never have looked at the other twice and, if they were forced to make conversation, it would either have gotten stuck at the expected pleasantries or ended in a verbal spat that would have ruined any potential that may be there.

‘Thank goodness we had no idea then.’ She linked her arm through his, something he could not remember her doing ever before. It was something she did when she was laughing with her brothers and she linked arms to draw them close, because that was what family did.

‘You do not regret your decision to stay?’ he asked. He found as he asked that the fear had gone. It was just a question now, one asked out of concern.

She must have sensed that somehow. ‘Part of me will always regret it,’ she said. ‘Just as a large part of me would always have regretted leaving if I had gone back. We have Gandalf to thank for that bloody mess.’ She sighed. ‘But I also really want this to work. And I’ve made my decision. I won’t go back on it. No matter how much hell that bunch are going to rain down on me for having the guts to worm my way inside.’

And even if she would change her mind, there was no going back anymore. They had passed that point even before they entered the Mountain, even though they hadn’t known it then.

They passed the remainder of the walk in silence. His leg had appreciated the morning sitting still, but walking distances such as this, that was still too much. Yet he refused to be carried around like some of the southern mannish kings were wont to do. He was the King under the Mountain and he had use of his own two legs, even if one of them was bothering him a little.

The path that led them past the dragon and into Erebor itself – if such an ambitious word as path might even be used for a makeshift track – was the worst of it. The stench was all but unbearable these days and passing here required walking sideways in a way that made his leg protest and had him clenching his jaw to prevent a groan of pain from escaping. The moment those armies packed up and left, he would have this corpse destroyed.

Kate seemed to share that opinion. ‘I’ll happily put the torch to that dead meat myself. When they’re all gone, of course.’

‘You’ll find yourself not short of volunteers,’ Thorin agreed wryly.

Kate snorted. ‘I wonder why,’ she said sarcastically. She caught sight of Dáin, standing in on the threshold of a small antechamber nearby, one where no wounded were housed as far as Thorin was aware. It would have to do for a meeting room until the kingdom was made more inhabitable. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with.’

To Thorin’s surprise the room was not as filled as he had expected to find it. Fíli was there, as was Dáin. Blackbeard had gone – perhaps Dáin had been having the same thought Kate had and had sent him with Bard – as had Loni. Only Toigan and Ragnar remained. Four people, and all of them more or less inclined to give Kate the benefit of the doubt. It was something he could only be grateful for.

Not that Dáin’s facial expression could ever be mistaken for kind. The only reason why he had not exploded yet was because Thorin was his king and kinsman, but that would not deter him for long. Fíli had schooled his expression into an unreadable mask based on Thorin’s own. Toigan and Ragnar were just waiting.

‘What the elf said is true?’ Dáin asked. Thorin estimated that the door had fallen shut behind him not five seconds ago.

Kate nodded. ‘It’s true. I only found out two days ago myself.’ She wisely omitted the part saying that it had been another elf who had told her. Given Thranduil’s recent conduct, that was unlikely to go over well. ‘There was no time to break the news to the world at large. Well, Thranduil made time for that, I reckon.’ The last words sounded sour and angry, something Thorin could not blame her for. Was there anything that king would not do to gain the advantage? He had arrived at a point where he seriously doubted that.

‘A grave breach of etiquette,’ Ragnar agreed.

‘Indeed, I noticed,’ Kate said. ‘If only we were in the position to pay him back in his own coin, but alas, we’re not.’ Thorin would not be at all opposed to such a course of action at all.

‘You are indeed with child.’ It was a mystery what Dáin made of it. Wary was what he settled on calling it eventually, but even that was a guess.

Kate was about to say something, but Toigan beat her to it. ‘It has happened before. My lord, I trust you have heard of the tale of Dari and Inga?’

It took Dáin only a few short moments to manage a nod in reply. If anything, it made Thorin feel like an uneducated fool. He had never heard the story until Elvaethor told him of its existence, but all of a sudden everyone seemed to know it and kept flaunting their knowledge of it.

Kate had the same thought. ‘How is it that everyone seems to know that story and I had never even heard of it until yesterday?’ When Ragnar opened his mouth to answer, she added: ‘No, never mind. It was a rhetorical question only.’

Dáin looked like he had been about to say something, but he changed his mind and instead of Thorin, he directed his next words at Kate. ‘There are other questions to which I was promised an answer.’

But now he had gone too far. ‘I would advise you to choose your words more carefully when speaking to my wife,’ he said icily. Dáin’s behaviour since he had arrived had set Thorin’s teeth on edge. And he had run out of patience with his cousin quite a long time ago, right about when Dáin decided he had no stomach for facing a dragon. He found it hard to tolerate his attitude any longer. ‘She is your queen and you owe her more respect than you are currently showing her.’ And Kate had contributed to the quest where Dáin had failed to deliver. That alone should have placed her far above him.

He could feel Kate’s eyes boring holes in his back. He knew full well she would have preferred to hold her own rather than have him speak up on her behalf. It had something to do with establishing some authority on her own merits, he supposed. To a certain extent he understood that and she was even right, but there were exceptions. This was one such exception.

It was silent for only a few seconds. ‘My apologies,’ Dáin said. ‘But I know there are secrets here, and for that I was promised an answer.’

‘I did promise him answers, Thorin,’ Kate said, her eyes telling him that she wouldn’t thank him for interfering again. ‘How much you’ll believe of them is another matter, though.’

Dáin frowned. ‘Why?’

Thorin remembered that Dáin had never been the overly diplomatic kind. He was the kind of dwarf outsiders expected: blunt, honest and not too keen on the presence of aforementioned outsiders. No matter how they had treated her in the presence of real outsiders, in private Dáin made no secret of his opinion that Kate was not truly one of them yet. On second thought he should have brought Dori with him; he’d have saved Thorin the need to tell his cousin off by doing it himself in a very memorable way.

‘Because I do not come from Middle Earth.’ Kate did not even blink as she shared that information. ‘I grew up in another world.’

Dáin’s reaction was instant. ‘That is not possible.’

‘Go tell that to Gandalf. He will tell you that it is very possible. Not only that, he knows how it should be done; he was the one who brought me here.’

Fíli had been very quiet until now, but now he nodded. ‘It is the truth.’

When Dáin’s head swivelled to Thorin, he in turn also confirmed what Kate had said. ‘She speaks the truth. Gandalf can indeed confirm it.’

‘I suspect he has been to my world himself,’ Kate added. ‘Not that he has ever either confirmed or denied it, but his actions speak for themselves.’ She unstrapped the thing she called a wrist watch and handed it over. ‘Look at that. Does this look like something that can be found in this world?’

Toigan was the one she was standing closest to, so he was the one to take the device from her and study it with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Thorin didn’t think this would be enough to convince the other dwarves in the room. If anything, his word held more value to them, but a little evidence could never hurt.

‘Curious,’ Toigan said, twisting it round and having a closer look at the front. ‘What is it, if I may ask?’

Kate smiled. ‘We call it a wrist watch. It’s used to tell the time. A very accurate way of telling the time, if I say so myself.’

Dáin had no intention of taking it when Toigan was through with it, so it was handed to Ragnar instead, who looked like a little dwarfling given free choice in the candy shop when the watch was put in his hands.

‘If you speak the truth, then why are you here?’ Dáin demanded. ‘Are you even married?’

‘Yes, cousin, I did indeed marry her,’ Thorin cut in before Kate could. He was uncomfortable with the lie, but felt like he had little choice but to tell it. Kate’s position was precarious enough. It would be endangered no further on his watch. And soon enough he would wed her for real and it would no longer matter. ‘And I advised you to watch your tongue once already today.’ _Don’t make me ask a third time._

Oh, he did not doubt that Dáin truly was on their side, but that did not mean he wanted him in Erebor for longer than was strictly necessary. Whatever goodwill had existed between them had been severely damaged by his refusal to contribute to the quest. It had been somewhat restored when he answered Thorin’s call to arms, but now it was rapidly decreasing all over again.

Kate meanwhile chose to answer the first question that was posed to her. ‘I was hired as the company advisor,’ she said.

Dáin looked Kate up and down and was visibly not impressed with what he saw. ‘Advice?’ he questioned. ‘What kind of advice?’

The tone of voice could not possibly have escaped Kate’s notice. She sent him a murderous glare. ‘The kind of advice that would not have us all end up dead,’ she snapped. Her control over her temper had been slipping ever since they had entered this room, and now she finally lost the last of it. She reached into the bag she still carried, the one that had contained the box with letters, took out the book and threw it on the table. ‘Advice based on that, based on a book from my world where everything that has just happened is one big story.’

For a moment no one seemed to be able to think of something to say, Thorin himself included. He had rather hoped they could keep the book out of this, but on second thought, this might just be the one thing that proved she was telling the truth and had been doing that all along.

Ragnar was the only one brave enough to pick it up and take a look at it. This did not surprise Thorin much; he looked like the kind of dwarf who lived and breathed books and ink. He would be the one to read it first. Dáin was still casting wary looks at it and Toigan clearly did not know what to make of it.

‘The part about the battle is somewhat near the end,’ Kate supplied helpfully. ‘If you want to cross-reference with your own experiences.’

Ragnar indeed did as she suggested, read some passages while the others looked on in silence – nobody seemed to know what to say, instead opting on waiting what the young scribe had to say about it – and then paled considerably.

He looked at Thorin as if he was seeing him in another light. ‘It tells of your death in battle.’ Aye, there was shock there.

‘It was wrong,’ Thorin said. Would be that it had been wrong about Kíli as well. ‘On that and some other matters.’ And it was that book that had been the very thing that had told them what to do and what not to. He might be alive because of it, because he had been forewarned. If he had done the same for Kíli, would he still be alive? He would never know now.

Ragnar shook his head and put the book back on the table as if he had burned his hands on it. ‘I have never seen the like,’ he declared. ‘The letters are very strange, but the words… Is this not witchcraft?’

‘Beats me,’ Kate said. ‘All I know is that it is a popular story where I come from. But it’s over seventy years old. The man who wrote it is not even alive anymore, so there’s no one to ask. I don’t even know how Gandalf learned of its existence. If I know him at all, he isn’t likely to tell us either.’

‘Is it true?’ Dáin clearly did not trust Kate, so he directed his question at Ragnar.

‘Enough of it, yes.’ The scribe seemed shaken by that particular realisation. ‘I do not know how, but I believe that Queen Kate is telling the truth.’ Because that was what it was all about in the end. It was not about the book, it was about the woman who brought it with her.

Another silence followed. It was only then that Thorin realised that the book had gone. And so had Fíli.

* * *

 

From Thorin’s notes: _I did not see him leave. Mahal help me. What does he think he is doing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as you can see, I’ve managed to squeeze out another chapter before going on holiday. Seeing as I’ll be spending the next two weeks holidaying in Germany, the next chapter will be a while in coming. Have a little patience with me, please.  
> Thank you for reading. If you’ve got a minute, reviews would be very welcome.


	93. Book Issues

_In hindsight we should probably have foreseen that the temptation of the book was too big a one to ignore, and Fíli had plenty of reason to want find out what kind of knowledge was buried in its pages. Not that it would do him any good, because goodness knows it did not do me any good. I just tended to think that it was of some use or other, because it was better than to believe the alternative, that in some cases it only made things worse._

_So yes, my opinion toward the book is ambivalent at best. On one hand it ensured that we were forewarned in some cases as to what was coming. We knew of the dangers of Mirkwood and altered our route to avoid run-ins with spiders and encounters with rivers of forgetfulness. Never once have I regretted not being forced to confront those. I have a – surely quite irrational – fear of spiders, and where I come from I was not the only one to suffer from that ailment. To stand eye in eye with the variety that is as big as a horse – if not bigger – would surely have turned my bowels to water._

_The book also contained useful information. We got out of the Mirkwood dungeon because the book told us the way of escape. Of course, one must never forget or underestimate the courage of one little hobbit, because yes, he was the one to get us out in the end and for that – and countless other things – we will never stop owing him. We cannot even begin to repay him for his part in the quest. I know that our chroniclers have a very annoying tendency to belittle the role he played in those fateful events, so he has become something of an unsung hero. It’s a grave injustice._

_But let’s get back to the book, because yes, I was talking about that. Most of the time it was more of a burden than a help, but a burden I clung to because there was no better alternative. Of course that is one of those things one can only ever see when all the danger has long since passed and the book has outlived its usefulness._

_Because on many an occasion we were indeed warned of danger ahead, but try though we might, there were things that we simply were unable to avoid, either because a wizard planned it that way or because the universe conspired against us to make it happen. Sometimes it may have been a combination thereof. And believe you me, my dears, there is nothing worse than to know what is coming and yet be completely unable to do a single thing to stop it. And in that way it can become a burden. Sometimes not knowing what lies ahead is so much better. Most people think not, but it is a lesson I have learned the hard way._

_And then to think of all the dread we suffered for things that were written in the book, but that never came to pass. We wasted so much time being scared out of our wits for events that the book was so completely wrong about. Without that knowledge, we would have been frightened of some things, of that I have no doubt, but we might have feared other things, the might-bes instead of the would-surely-bes. There’s a world of difference between those._

_It is complicated. I think that is the long and short of it. In the end I think it is good that the book exists, because without it, I would never have come here in the first place and you would never have been born. If my interference hadn’t taken place, the book might have literally come to pass or matters might have been different entirely, because no one knows better than me these days never to take this book as the gospel – a mistake I’ve often made on the quest itself – and the universe has a queer sense of humour in the first place._

_But while I was starting to figure all this out at the time, Fíli didn’t have a clue…_

 

‘Where’s Fíli?’

Kate had been too busy trying and failing to read Dáin’s face – the Lord of the Iron Hills had alternated between tomato red and corpse pale in the last couple of minutes – to notice that Thorin’s nephew had left the room. It was something she only became aware of when Thorin noted his absence and asked where he had gone. Kate didn’t have a clue and judging by the looks Dáin and Ragnar bestowed on Thorin, neither did they.

She assumed that Fíli might have found the discussion of the book too painful – a sharp reminder of what he had lost – and had therefore decided to go. She could not blame him should that be the case. He had seemed to take the news much harder than Thorin, but that could just be the way it looked. If she knew Thorin at all, and she rather liked to think she did, then he was bottling it up, hiding the pain inside, but he was no less hurting than Fíli was. If she had read the situation right.

Silence reigned supreme, until she noticed something else. Or rather, she noticed the absence of something else. And from there it wasn’t hard to put together one and one to make two. ‘He’s taken the book.’

So she _had_ misjudged this situation. Fíli hadn’t run away. He had gone on a quest to find out the truth and either, in true Thorin-fashion, beat himself up over it or lay the blame at her feet, or Thorin’s. He might even blame them both. And Thorin no doubt would graciously accept said blame and beat himself up over it when really, what else could he have done? What else could any of them have done? She had interpreted the blasted book to the best of her abilities, had done what she could to avoid the worst things. Sometimes she had been successful, sometimes not and other times only partly successful. The last category still felt remarkably as failure, though.

She could read Thorin’s desire to go after him and right the wrongs in his eyes, but that was not how this was supposed to go. He would not be able to run around on that leg of his at all, but that was not the main reason why she didn’t think he should be the one to go. Because that someone should go after him was not even a question. It was the right thing to do.

But Thorin did not have the monopoly on assigning blame to himself. Kate thought she could be a bit more rational about dealing out blame to whoever it belonged to, and this matter was hers. It was tempting to point the finger at Gandalf and sure enough, he had been the one to bring her and that story to Middle Earth, but Kate was the one who read it over and over again, who tried to make sense of it and who based her own actions on it. _I might as well have built them on shifting sands for all the good it did me._

‘I’ll go.’ It would buy her out of this ever more awkward meeting in one fell swoop. Of course she was only trading one ordeal for the other, but Fíli she knew. She’d faced enough of the unknown in the months that lay behind them.

Thorin’s eyes did a splendid job of conveying his disapproval. It was not outside the realm of possibility that he thought she was mollycoddling him as she had foolishly tried to do when Smaug had mistaken Thorin’s legs for a soft feather pillow. He hadn’t liked her for it. She wasn’t about to make a repeat performance when she could not afford the fallout it was bound to have.

‘It’s my mess; I have to be the one to clean it up,’ she clarified before practically fleeing the room. Dáin’s eyes had been boring into the back of her head every moment she wasn’t looking at him, and the looks he had sent her way were far from flattering. He disliked her, she felt, if not for charming her way into Thorin’s heart – if such a word was even the right one for what she had done – then for being of another world and being the owner of this book that may or may not be witchcraft. The jury was still out on that one. And heaven only knew what Ragnar made of her.

She meant what she said, though. It was her job to find Fíli and try to explain to him that things were not as straightforward as they may seem. It had taken her the better part of a year to reach this realisation and to really start believing that she could not have prevented anything just because she knew of the events before they happened. That had turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing anyway, but she wasn’t sure she could convey this to Fíli, not when he was still hurting so bad, not when he still believed that the knowledge of _The Hobbit_ could have saved his brother’s life.

But if she was going to tell him that, she had to find him first, and that was proving to be something of a quest in and out of itself. Fíli clearly did not want to be found – and in his shoes, she would want her privacy as well – and if he had any preferred hide-outs here, she did not know what they were and where to look for them. It would be a safe bet to say that he wanted to be alone while he was grieving – he took after his uncle in that – so she could cross out all the populated areas. Which only left her with more than ninety-five per cent of the Mountain left to cover.

She wandered through Erebor for what felt like hours on end, but there was no sign of Fíli at all. He didn’t want to be found, so of course he hadn’t told anyone where he had gone. That would have made her job way too easy.

 _Damn you, Fíli, for being so good at hiding_ , she thought angrily when at least two hours had passed. Her feet were aching and her leg was both itchy and sore. The wound had not healed quite yet – that would take some time – and walking on it for so long was not good for it. But giving up was not like Kate. How could she face Thorin now and admit defeat just like that? It was a mark of his trust in her that he had let her go and do this at all. If she came back to him now like a dog with its tail between its legs, she would have failed and if he could not trust her with that, then how could he trust her to make the right decisions as his queen?

 _You are being melodramatic, Andrews_ , she told herself. Thorin did not work like that. Still, going back was not an option. Finding Fíli was the only acceptable outcome, but it was proving quite the trial to actually achieve it.

 _If I wanted to be left alone, where would I go?_ Trying to think like a young dwarf who had just lost his brother was difficult, if not nigh impossible, but if she was going to be successful, then she had to at least try. _If I was alone and grieving and in the possession of the book that I think has all the answers, then where would I go to read it?_ Because that was beyond a doubt what Fíli was doing now. And the more he read, the more distressed he would become. In her world this might be a source of entertainment and nothing else, but this was Middle Earth and here it was far from cheering material to read.

And just like that, the answer hit her. _The library_. If you wanted to read, then what better place to do it than in a library? She already knew that Ori had been there; he’d found the book on Erebor history that he had given her before the battle on its shelves. That meant that it was open and accessible. Dusty too, probably, but for the moment it was her best bet.

Not that she was entirely sure where the library was, but there were signs carved into the walls by the people who had lived here before Smaug had come and laid waste to the place. Those would still be accurate. Smaug may have changed much, but he could not have changed the layout of an entire Mountain.

She was forced to double back and make a couple of detours on her way there because of corridors and rooms where the dragon had left its mark in the form of cave-ins and smashed walls, but in the end it was almost easy to find. Kate would be forever grateful to whoever had first come up with the idea to use signs to point the lonely wanderer in the right direction. They were in Khuzdul, but she had had lessons from the very best and even though her writing and reading still had a long way to go to catch up with her speaking of it, signs were hardly the most difficult sort of text.

The enormous doors – carved stone – that granted entry to the library were open just wide enough to allow one person passage. Of course Ori could have forgotten to shut the door behind him when he left here the last time, but that was unlikely; Ori was careful to the extreme where books were concerned and it was not like him at all to leave the doors open so that any fool could walk right in. Kate hoped this meant that the someone currently inside was the one she was looking for.

_I could use a stroke of luck right about now._

She entered the library and promptly forgot why she was here in the first place. Ori had certainly not exaggerated when he told her that the place was huge. It was more of an understatement. And it was not as dark as Kate would have believed. The place was near the surface and there were windows high up that allowed natural light into the library. Great chandeliers caught the light and sent it all over the place. The system itself was quite ingenious.

And there were thousands of books. Kate would love to lose herself among the shelves, to browse and read all day long. So many volumes there were that it would take her several lifetimes to read even a tenth of what was stored here. And most importantly, it had come through the dragon’s occupation whole. There was no sign that the beast had ever been here. But then, what use did a dragon have for books? His interests had been stored in another part of the Mountain.

She sneezed. It was incredibly dusty here. Of course Smaug had done no housekeeping duties, no matter what jokes she may have exchanged about it with Thorin back in Mirkwood. No, no one had been here in a very long time and in that time, the library had been literally gathering dust.

That snapped her out of her wonder for it and reminded her that she had not come here for her own amusement. She had come here to find Fíli and try to remind him that not all answers could be found in the book he had taken with him.

 _How simple life would be if all the answers could be learned from books._ Alas, that was not the kind of world that she lived in. Real life was far more complicated than that. And that was something she was only now starting to understand.

_But how to explain it to him?_

Since there would be no explaining of any kind if she didn’t find him first, she set about that task. There was a main row that ran along the length of the library and that was the one she followed, peering into the side rows as she went in the hopes of finding Fíli.

As it was, she did not have to look very hard or very long. Kate had come just about halfway when there was a corridor to her left that led to something that looked like a reading room and in that room she could see Fíli. He had sat himself down on one of the chairs around a large table that he had cleaned of dust. _The Hobbit_ was lying on the table in front of him, opened near the end, an observation that made Kate cringe inside. Deep down she had hoped that she would find him before he got to that bit, but now she knew that he would not have started reading at the beginning. His only interest was in the end, in that part where the book claimed both uncle and nephews would die.

He had not heard her coming, too emerged in the words on the page in front of him to notice his surroundings. Had Dwalin seen it, he would have reprimanded Fíli for it. Kate rather thought that he could be forgiven for not paying sufficient attention just this once. And it was not as if there were scores of orcs lurking about.

‘You’re not going to find answers there,’ she said, breaking the almost eerie silence that held the library in its grasp. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried.’

And how she had tried. She’d fought so hard and had it ever really worked? Of course Thorin had not succumbed to greed, but was that because of the book or because of other reasons? Who was to know what had happened if Thorin had not been forewarned? And yes, they had managed to take a different route through Mirkwood, but what had it gained them in the end? Azog was dead, but so was Bifur and they had been captured by elves all the same. All things taken into account, that was not the school example of a success story either.

The only good, the only _real_ good that it had done was to tell them how not to deal with the dragon so that they could come up with a better way themselves, which they had done. Who knows, maybe that was all Gandalf had truly brought her here to do. She was of a mind to ask him about that, but she rather suspected he would not answer her, just smile that serene innocent-looking smile of his and dance around the subject with an ease born of centuries of practise.

‘You knew.’ It were the same words he had spoken to her before the meeting, and they still felt like an accusation. Maybe they even felt more so now, when they were directed only at her and Thorin was not here to share in the blame, as in so far one could even assign blame for something like this.

Kate nodded. ‘Yes, I knew. And so did Thorin and Gandalf, and Bilbo,’ she added as an afterthought. She thought it best to omit Elvaethor’s name for the moment. As it was, she was not even sure what to make of that herself. Bloody elf. They should keep their handsome noses out of business that didn’t concern them and their hands away from objects that did not belong to them. ‘And Dwalin was warned about the danger before battle commenced.’ Now that she came to think of it, quite a number of people were aware of the contents of the book. By the looks of things, she could add Fíli to the list.

‘You could have told me.’ The tone of voice betrayed frustration, but whether it was directed at her or at himself, Kate wasn’t sure. It could be both.

‘And what good would that have done?’ she asked, seating herself on the chair opposite him, sneezing again when the dust tried to invade her nostrils. ‘You would have fretted, worried about things you really had no control over.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘You’re much like Thorin. He’s done nothing but worrying from the moment he read it and more than half of the time this is not even a reliable guide to what to do on a quest anyway.’ _How many times will I have to keep telling them that this is not the gospel?_

‘I would have been warned,’ Fíli insisted.

‘And lived the last months in a constant state of fear for your brother,’ she countered. Of the two of Thorin’s sister-sons, Fíli took least after him in looks, but most in spirit, especially when left to his own devices. ‘You would never have been able to keep it from Kíli. You would both have lived these last few months in fear, you for him and he for you.’

If she knew the brothers at all, they would not have wasted time worrying about themselves. It must be something that ran in the blood in that family – Thorin was suffering from the same affliction – because the line of Durin seemed to have a particular low regard for self-preservation. _I can only hope my child will be a little more sensible than that or else I’ll spend the rest of my days constantly fretting about them._

When Fíli didn’t respond, she added: ‘And it might not even have happened anyway.’

Now he looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

Kate nodded at the book that was still lying on the table. ‘That’s what I mean. It’s not that reliable as you would like to think.’ _Or as changeable as I always wanted it to be_. ‘I did that, you know, doing what you are doing, looking at the book in the hopes of getting an answer when it offers none.’ Part of her felt like an old weary woman, who has seen and done it all and who is trying to bestow her wisdom on a younger person. Except she was younger than Fíli by about half a century and her wisdom, such as it was, had come from lessons learned the hard way.

‘Then why were you always reading it, marking it, making notes in it?’ he asked.

He gave a meaningful nod at the page that was opened in front of him. It was surrounded by her own commentary and notes to herself on what to do. She knew most of those words by heart, but even if she hadn’t, she could easily read her own handwriting upside down. _Never_ ever _going to happen as long as I have a say in the matter_. That was what she had scrawled next to the paragraph that claimed Fíli and Kíli would both fall in defence of Thorin.

But that was just the thing. She hadn’t had a say in the matter. She had just deluded herself into thinking that because she had all the knowledge, she was at liberty to use it to shape the events according to her wishes. It was such an easy trap to fall into, and a comfortable one at that. It had given her a feeling of control, of a strange sort of power that nothing need go wrong as long as she just remembered the story. And she had been reminded time and again that was not how the world worked, that there were always more forces at work than that of her own willpower, no matter how strong. _The world is not that makeable._

‘Because I was a stupid little girl who thought she could bend events to suit her wishes as long as she worked at it hard enough.’ She went with truth. ‘Because I thought that the book was the answer to everything, simply because Gandalf had brought me to this world because of my knowledge of it.’ That suggestion was all it had taken for her to walk into that trap with her eyes wide open.

‘Some things did happen,’ Fíli insisted. ‘Things that are written in this book. What kind of witchcraft is this?’

‘One more foul than anything I’ve ever seen before,’ Kate said. And all the more dangerous for looking so tempting. _I should have known better than to fall for it_. ‘It promises foreknowledge, but it never delivers.’ She grimaced. ‘Or it delivers in such a way that you still never see it coming. The book truth isn’t the real truth. It’s twisted and dark and dangerous.’ So very, very dangerous. And until very recently she had been clinging to it as if her very life depended on it, because there was no alternative. _The Hobbit_ was all she’d had. And it was better to have something, no matter how unreliable, than to fly blind, because that was infinitely more frightening. ‘And you shouldn’t sit here wasting your time wondering about could-have-beens. It’s only going to give you blinding headaches and grey hairs long before your time.’ Headaches she’d had plenty of, but if her statement about grey hairs had any truth to it, all her red should have faded to silver by now; she’d done enough worrying to last her for decades.

‘Could you have saved him if you had been there with us?’ he asked. Good grief, right now he sounded young and he was looking at her as if she was the one with all the answer. And Kate was not all that sure she was any more reliable than that blasted book of hers.

‘No.’ It was a harsh answer, but a truthful one. _If I am going to live among dwarves, I would do well to adopt their blunt honesty, or they’ll curse me for an elf and have me cast out._ ‘I could barely hold my own in that fight by the side door as it was. Tauriel had to save my arse or I would have been dead.’

When she caught his puzzled look, she realised that he didn’t have a clue what she was on about; he had only returned this morning from giving chase to the orcs. He knew nothing about the fight at the side door and so she gave him the summarised version. She mentioned Bilbo’s part and the help of the elves. On a lighter note she also admitted to having locked the door with a hairpin. It earned her the smallest of smiles in return. She could not have possibly hoped for more. It would be a while before anyone would do any real laughing around here, she wagered, but it was a start.

‘It wasn’t Thorin’s fault either,’ she said when they had been silent for a while and Fíli’s gaze was drifting back towards the book. ‘It just happened.’ Everything just happened and it was all she could do to fight it. Sometimes she was successful and sometimes she was not. It appeared to be the way of the world. _And don’t I just hate that._ ‘We did what we could. He is still alive, and so are you. And if I knew Kíli just a little bit, then I think I’m right in saying that he wouldn’t want you acting like this. It was not the kind of person he was.’

In fact, she had often thought that behind that sunny disposition of his there was a serious dwarf doing all he could to make sure his brother and uncle didn’t spend their days in eternal gloom. The effect of what he had done became only that more apparent now that he wasn’t here anymore.

 _And I am not the kind of person to keep all that sadness and anger at bay._ She knew herself well enough to be able to admit that she had too much sadness and anger of her own to ever fill that role. _Maybe I should introduce him to Thora in good time_. If there was one thing that was undisputed, it was that the young healer had plenty of cheerfulness to go around.

She was rewarded for her efforts with a barely visible nod. ‘I know.’

It wasn’t quite a success story just yet, but these things took time. It was not realistic to expect that he would be up on his feet and apologising for his conduct. But maybe it was enough to be getting on with for the moment.

Even so, she slipped the book back in her bag when she took her leave of him.

***

The atmosphere in the room did not improve after Kate had left. No, Kate had fled. That was the proper word for it. She had been ill at ease from the moment they had come in here and Dáin had certainly not done anything to improve matters. His cousin radiated a certain hostility that was not immediately visible, but that got deep under Thorin’s skin and made him want to run as well. More was the pity that the current condition of his leg did not allow for such exercise just yet.

Ragnar seemed all in a fluster, still staring at the door through which Kate had disappeared, as if that would magically bring her back. He didn’t seem hostile. If anything, he was only curious, and that was not a sin. Nevertheless, his mixture of awe and curiosity did not make him feel any more comfortable than Dáin’s open disapproval.

‘She has given you answer,’ he said. And that was all that was promised. He would be grateful if Dáin would take that and leave it be. And he might for the moment; it seemed he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the information to think of something clever to say.

It was not that Thorin hated his cousin, but he found that he had increasingly less patience for him. He’d stand by him till his dying breath against an outside force, because that was what his people did and Dáin was kin after all. But privately he did not like Dáin. It had begun after Azanulbizar, when Dáin had withdrawn his troops – his, after his father’s death before the gates of Khazad-dûm – and had left Thorin’s people to fend for themselves. Thorin had been too proud to ask for shelter within the Iron Hills, but he did not remember Dáin making an offer either. In the years between the battle and the quest he had seen hide nor hair of him and then, when he had brought himself to ask for help – his spirit balking at having been reduced to begging – Dáin had not answered the call.

And that had decided Thorin. So even though his wariness of Kate should be wholly understandable – their people did not like outsiders and marrying Kate was as unconventional a decision as it could be – Thorin resented him for it. It was not the only reason, because that ran much deeper. It was just a reason to show it. And the sooner Dáin would pack up and leave – after their common enemies had gone – the better Thorin would like it.

‘She has,’ Dáin agreed.

‘Then you will leave her be,’ Thorin commanded, because yes, a command it was. He was done with his authority being called into question at every turn, was sick to his soul of the looks, the resentment and the pity with which he was regarded. The kingdom had been reclaimed and the battle was won. He had proven his mettle over and over again, yet the looks remained. And many of those were cast by those he called kin because he had chosen a Mannish woman for his wife.

Thorin was Dáin’s king, not just a kinsman, and so he had to obey. He would not pull rank on his kin often, but he would when necessary. And if Dáin was only just the start of the enmity Kate would face for the rest of her days, then he would have to start taking precautions by surrounding her – and himself as well, for the sake of his sanity – with people that liked her. He’d keep the company close, and some of those that seemed to have befriended his advisor, even if it included the chatty healer that had made her laugh. They would need that; laughter had been all too rare in his life.

He left the room then, leaning heavily on his walking stick to keep on moving. His leg hurt; he had overtaxed it today. But it was not in a dwarf’s nature to indulge in idleness. Theirs was a race made for working. And a king’s work may be different from a smith’s work, but it was work all the same. And Thorin had never believed in postponing till tomorrow what could be done today as well.

Still, jeopardising his own health would not help him and he _needed_ to be as strong as he could be for the ordeals still to come, so he sought out a healer and had the leg looked at. This healer did not complain about Thorin’s stubbornness about walking around on an injured leg as much as Óin surely would have done; he had too much respect for his king for that. Thorin would have preferred Óin’s treatment over this one, though. Óin at least was a familiar face and he would have listened to the whining with annoyance, but also with the contentment of being among friends. That was one thing he’d had too little of recently.

Of Kate and Fíli there was no sign all afternoon. Bilbo mentioned having seen her walk in the general direction of the throne room hours ago, but many corridors led to the passage to the throne room, and she could be anywhere under the Mountain. Nevertheless he thanked the hobbit for his answer – it was the very least he could be thanked for – and resigned himself to not seeing Kate for the rest of the afternoon.

True enough, he only saw her again when daylight had faded and he was sitting down with his supper in a quiet corner near a burning hearth. There at least he had been left alone and solitude was something he craved often when good company was not to be had. She came in through the far door, looked for him and then saw him. Even from across the room she must have read the question in his eyes, because she gave a barely perceptible nod before detouring past Bombur for some food and then joining him.

‘I’ve found him,’ she announced, answering the question Thorin hadn’t even been given the chance to ask yet. ‘He was in the library. Reading.’ She grimaced.

Thorin had feared as much. The temptation of the book was great indeed, as was the temptation to cling to its words as if they were the only thing that could save him. He had learned a hard lesson that no book had power to save anyone, although he wondered about what powers it _did_ possess to influence his quest the way it had. But Fíli would find no answers in it, that much was certain.

‘How much?’ he asked.

‘Enough,’ came her answer. ‘He was especially interested in the last part, I’m afraid. I’m not sure how many times he managed to read it before I found him, but I’m sure I’ll need more fingers than I possess to count them on.’ It was her way, to bring serious matters as if they were not that important at all. It made her capable of handling it.

But Thorin found this no laughing matter. It was as he had feared, then. Fíli was looking for his answers in a book that had given them some warnings about the future, but its use had run out now. There was nothing more to guide them. Looking back on it, he wondered how much guiding it had ever truly done and how much of it had only served to make them fear what lay ahead.

‘Where is he now?’ he asked.

‘Best left alone,’ Kate said, correctly guessing his intentions. She had grown better at that over the past few months. ‘I don’t think he actually blames us, but he needs someone to blame for Kíli’s passing since Bolg is rather conveniently dead. Or inconveniently, looking at it from his perspective.’ She opened the bag far enough to let him see inside. The book was in there. ‘It seemed wiser not to let him brood over it any more than he already had. It isn’t healthy.’ She bit her lip. ‘And he is much like you in that regard.’

As if he didn’t know. He knew only too well how much Fíli took after him in spirit, but it had never been that obvious. Kíli’s presence had held that trait at bay, the very trait that soured Thorin’s soul so often when times were bad, that had him close himself off to others, even kin.

‘I know.’ There was nothing more to be said on the matter. He knew, and with Kíli dead, he did not have a clue as to what to do about it.

Kate smiled ruefully. ‘I know that.’

They ran out of things to say after that and they took their meals in silence. It wasn’t the awkward silence that had marked so many of their early conversations, though, if such an ambitious word as conversation may even be used for all the arguing they had done then. This silence was more companionable, not the kind of silence that made Thorin want to send her away so that he could be alone with his thoughts. It was the kind of companionship he used to enjoy with Balin and Dwalin, and on occasion his sister. They just sat down to share the silence, not feeling the need to fill the air with meaningless but well-intended words.

But he could feel eyes on them. They were not alone in this room. Inhabitable spaces were few and far in between and rooms needed to be shared to house all currently inside the kingdom. So yes, there were other people, and they were watching and wondering. Kate had not been seen much, although the news would have spread by now. Some eyes were judging, some eyes only wondering, but very few were kind. He could only hope that it was something time would fix.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Kate said eventually. The meals had been cleared away from the plates and they were both staring into the fire. She didn’t look up even when she did address him again.

‘What about?’ he asked.

‘Thranduil, Erland and the small matter of them still being camped in front of our gates,’ she answered. There was an expression on her face that told him she didn’t like the turn her thoughts had taken – which in turn indicated that Thorin was bound not to like them very much either – and that she was still desperately trying to come up with something better. ‘They’re allowing supplies through for the moment, but goodness only knows how long that will last before the siege continues.’

There was nothing he could say to that, except to agree with her. The matter may have been temporarily forced to the background because of Fíli and Dáin, but it had never truly been gone, and while Kate was away, he had done some thinking of his own. But he had gotten nowhere with it. He would not hand over the wealth of his people on the whims of elves and men and they would not leave until they had gotten their hands on it. Balin would call that an impasse, and that was exactly what it was. It was an impasse until someone smart figured out a way to break it. For all their sakes, Thorin hoped that it was someone on their side.

He was of a mind to ask Balin’s counsel in the morning. He’d always had a mind for politics, something Thorin never had the patience for. He also lacked the sense of tact necessary to navigate those waters. He feared that Kate was not any more skilled at it than he was, but while he became taciturn and unsociable, she opened her mouth to give her opponents a piece of her mind. Neither strategy worked well.

He nodded to convey the message that he was listening. ‘I know this.’ It seemed he was saying those words much these days.

Kate swallowed. ‘We’re going to have to give them something.’ She threw the words out quick, as if that would make them easier to hear.

Thorin swivelled his head around and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. He had thought she was on his side in this, that she was as determined not to hand over the wealth of his ancestors to undeserving and greedy hands. This was not something he had expected to hear out of her mouth. To him, it felt like a betrayal.

‘You would have me hand over my people’s riches to the elves?’ The words were no more than a low growl.

The indignant look found its way to her face. ‘I don’t like it any better than you, you fool.’ Yes, he had vexed her now for sure, but no more than she had vexed him. What was she thinking? Had that Elvaethor been whispering in her ear, poisoning her mind against him? He had been a fool for allowing Thranduil’s pet to come so close.

‘It does not sound that way,’ he pointed out. He knew only too well what he sounded like now. It was the kind of icy tone that had sent his sister-sons running for Dís’s arms when they were very small. It was all icy disapproval.

‘In case you’d forgotten, I’m on _your_ side, not on theirs,’ she whispered furiously as to not alert every dwarf in the room to their argument. ‘But we need to have them gone from here more than we need all the gold under this Mountain. It’s bloody winter, Thorin. With all these people in Erebor not even Elvaethor’s supplies can keep us fed.’

There was sense in that, Thorin knew that, but he also knew that he would do his people no service by handing the elves what they wanted. That would only set a precedent for the future. Give them what they want now and in a few years they would only be back to ask for more, which they knew they would get. Because if they yielded once, who was to say they would not do it again? That was a dangerous thing to be doing and Thorin disliked the thought itself.

‘We will not give them what they want,’ he said and that should be the end of it. He was still the King under the Mountain, strange looks notwithstanding. His orders were to be obeyed and much as he hated it to pull rank on Kate, he would if that was what it took.

‘And we won’t,’ Kate said, not in the least taken aback by his cold dismissal. There was hurt in her eyes, but determination also. That was Kate Andrews at her most dangerous.

Whatever idea had entered her mind, Thorin was quite sure he wanted no part of it. This was the wealth of his people they were talking about, long lost and only gained back so very _recently._ And now it was unrightfully claimed by those who had not aided Durin’s Folk when they had a need of it. Even Erland had only helped them to get more and more back in turn. Selflessness had not been a part of his motivations and Thorin loathed him for that.

Still, her quick agreement with him had him look up. Had she changed her mind so easily? That was not something she usually did. In general, she had a dwarf’s stubbornness when she was passionate about something. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s all in the phrasing,’ she said. The hurt was still there, but she jumped at the chance to explain now that he had given her an opportunity. ‘We’ll give them a small token of our respect for defending our homeland in the battle against the vicious orcs. That’s how we’ll sell it. We’re not giving in to blackmail. We’re rewarding them for a part in a battle that should never have been theirs in the first place. We’re rewarding them for sticking with us when they shouldn’t have.’

As Thorin saw it, there were several flaws in this kind of reasoning. As far as he was aware, there had been no time for anyone to run anywhere. Making a stand was the best, if not only option they’d had. If they had spread, the orcs would only have killed them off one by one. They’d have done their foes a favour and no one did orcs favours of their own free will. There were no rewards for that which was simply no more or less than common sense.

And he told her so. ‘To run would have been certain death. Even orcs are not as foolish as that. Their actions on the battlefield do not warrant a reward of any kind. It is common sense.’

Kate only rolled her eyes at him. ‘I _know_ that.’

Then he did not see what she was on about. ‘Then what is this talk of rewards?’ He felt as disinclined to give his gold to Thranduil and Erland as ever. It wouldn’t be fair.  
She got impatient now. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Thorin, you cannot possibly be as stupid as you sound right now. I know they don’t deserve a reward for anything at all, I _know_ that. But like I said, it is all in the bloody phrasing. We need to sell it as such so that later they’ll never be able to say: “See, you gave into blackmail in the aftermath of the battle”. The chroniclers of all the Free Folk will write down that as a token of his respect the King under the Mountain rewarded the elves and men for their valiant conduct in a battle they should have taken no part in. That is how it will be remembered for future generations. If anything, it will shame them that we do them this kindness when they have laid siege to our home on such flimsy pretences.’

Slowly, Thorin was starting to see the merits of this scheme. He himself knew only too well that his people could not afford another war. They’d fought too many, their numbers were dwindling so much already. They needed a time of peace and stability to recover, to grow strong again. A siege to Erebor would bring only further ruin to his people. And he was not that attached to his wealth that he would sit on it and refuse to give it to those who had earned a part of it. He had promised a small reward to Erland for aiding them when they needed it in Esgaroth and he had promised Bard to do what he could to rebuild Dale and restore it to its former glory. Yet still the thought of giving treasure to those unworthy of it rankled. And the longer he thought on it, the more it did. But he also could not deny the sense in Kate’s words. They needed an end to this and they needed it soon. Her scheme might even work. But she had forgotten something vital.

‘Thranduil will never fall for it.’ There was the off-chance that Erland would buy into it; he was greedy enough to take what was offered. He depended heavily on the elven support, Thorin knew. Without that, he was nothing. ‘He will know it for what it is.’

‘He might,’ Kate admitted. ‘But what can he say? We’ll mention it first thing at the meeting tomorrow morning, before he can charge in with his demands.’

‘Still, he’ll know,’ Thorin insisted. He had more experience with elves than she did and he had a feeling that Kate underestimated what elven malevolence was capable of achieving.

The hurt in her eyes was well and truly gone now – and the Maker be praised for that – but it had made way for annoyance. ‘Good grief, Thorin, you dwarves don’t have a cunning bone in your bodies, do you?’

There was truth in that. His was a race of blunt honesty. Deceit and word games were beneath them. That was the territory of elves and men. Dwarves kept far away from that. And in the months past he had indulged in lies and deceit more than he had in his entire life. It just did not sit right with him. And he did not like it that Kate should play those games with such ease either.

Kate went on when she didn’t get an answer out of him. Like as not, she had not been expecting one. ‘It’s not about what Thranduil knows or doesn’t know. It has never been about what is real at these talks anyway. All that matters is what we tell them. And if we make our offer before he gets his say, then it would make him look very stupid and pathetic indeed if he were to publically deem it us giving into blackmail. He’s been trying so hard to make it look like he’s the one with the monopoly on the moral high ground. Saying something like this would make him lose that. And I am pretty sure that he won’t want to risk that.’ She made a gesture with her arms in what appeared to be frustration. ‘Thorin, don’t you see?’

And he did. He had not survived as long as he had by being ignorant of the games that were played all around him, even if he chose not to partake in them. He understood what she was getting at. It was all a game. Thranduil was one of the most skilled players there were in all of Middle Earth, and he was ruthless too. Kate was no match for him, and neither was Thorin. That is one thing that has been proven in the days past. They may win a round, but Thranduil could boast having a long memory and he had never been known to take slights well.

‘They may take the reward and still demand additional payment for the slights suffered before,’ he pointed out.

‘Not if we tell them that we will only give them their reward once they pack up and leave.’ Kate had clearly given this a fair bit of thought. ‘We’ll claim that it would be downright irresponsible to leave so much gold out in the open, where anyone could take it, for extended periods of time, so we say that it will be handed over upon departure. And with both Gandalf and the Lady Galadriel standing as witnesses, do you really think they’ll dare come back after that? It would just be plain rude. And they surely won’t stand for it.’

Yes, this scheme had merits. If they played this right and Thranduil did not barge in with any more surprises like the one he had unleashed on them this morning, then they stood a chance, a small chance of coming out of this in a way that would harm them the least.

It still did not make him feel any better about this, but he would have to do something, and Kate’s plan was better than starving to death. He would not put his people through that. For himself he might be willing to bear it, but not for them. Not for her either, not with a child growing inside her. _Mahal give that this child will not take after her in spirit too much._

‘You have a dragon’s own cunningness about you,’ he remarked, not even sure himself whether this was said in bitterness or as a compliment.

Kate didn’t know either, so she responded with a quip. ‘I stole Smaug’s before he died,’ she said. ‘It would be a shame for all that cleverness to be lost with his passing, so I took it for my own.’

He might well believe it, had he not known that her cunningness had been present long before that. ‘Aye, that must be it.’

‘I know you don’t like it when I act like this.’ She must have heard the unhappiness in his voice. ‘And I don’t like doing it, you know. But we need it. We need the elves to back off and we need to do whatever necessary to get them to do as we wish. If it is cunningness that is needed, then fine, I’ll do it. You don’t need to take part in it.’

That was tempting. It was so tempting to wash his hands of this and say that it was all her doing. None of the cunningness was his own and Kate was more skilled at it than he was anyway.

But as of last night, such a course of action had become an impossibility. ‘No,’ he said. It was the only right answer he could give to that proposal.

She rolled her eyes at him again. ‘Thorin, there is no need for you to play the bloody martyr in this. I can do it. I handled Thranduil on my own before.’ Handling was a funny word for it, but one strangely accurate, too. ‘And I know it makes you uncomfortable. You don’t have to do it.’

But that was not what they had agreed to last night. ‘Together or not at all,’ he parroted her stolen line back at her.

Kate seemed taken aback by that, but covered it up with yet another attempt at light-heartedness. ‘It’s one thing for me to quote _Doctor Who_ , but it’s just plain weird to hear you do it.’

Thorin did not know what this _Doctor Who_ was that she was talking about, but that was not the point. ‘I did not quote that, I quoted you.’

‘Yes, so you did.’ There was a thoughtfulness that he did not see often with her. ‘Well, then.’ She summoned up a hesitant smile. ‘Let’s do it.’

He nodded. ‘Aye, let’s.’

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _And here’s to hoping that this plan works as well for real as it does in my head. One never knows with Thranduil after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: the proposition is put to Thranduil and Erland.  
> Thank you for reading. As always, reviews would be tremendously appreciated.


	94. Solution?

_Oh, my dears, how proud I was of my own solution that night, and how relieved that I got your father to agree to it once I had put it to him. Nevertheless, it was a very mixed kind of feeling that I experienced, because I knew I did not have his full approval and I was unlikely to ever have it. This was not a way of behaving that Thorin was ever going to approve of. It was too elvish, he would say, too much like the behaviour of the race that he wants as little as possible to do with._

_Dwarves prefer to do all of their business in the same blunt honesty as which they deal with everything else. And while that is certainly admirable, in life you don’t always have the choice to be as honest and straightforward as all that, because your opponents will not always repay the compliment – often they see it as insult rather than compliment anyway – and there are times when you have to fight fire with fire or go down if you choose not to. Especially when dealing with elves you don’t always have the luxury of being as frank as you are with our own people._

_But I needn’t tell you that. In this case I may have led by example, and it is a lesson I taught you well._ You have a dragon’s own cunningness about you _, Thorin once told me. Later, in a relaxed moment, he even confessed to hoping it was not a trait I would pass on to our offspring. For a long time he was very persistent in that hope, but I am afraid you dashed it, my sweet boys. The moment Thráin was old enough to walk after Thoren, the two of you got constantly into trouble and made up the most ludicrous of excuses to talk yourselves out of them. Although, truth be told, you got pretty skilled at it eventually._

_I remember one such occasion. You were just a little more than toddlers, Thoren about seven years old, Thráin two years younger. There was an envoy from the Iron Hills, led by Dáin’s own son, whom you proclaimed to like on sight, but which did not stop you from playing a rather mean prank on him. Believe me, laddies, it is no fun at all to have to explain to a diplomatic envoy and a dear friend besides why exactly his room was practically booby-trapped. Apparently he had tripped over a bit of wire that had been placed just inches above the ground. Of course this had your fingerprints all over it, especially as I recall Thoren being in the possession of such wire, which I never saw again after the incident. But you were firm in your story that you had been in the company of a group of your friends all afternoon, a story which they all confirmed, and you had been playing. Of course, as I am writing this occurs to me that you may not have asked them to lie at all, but that instead you had found yourself a group of willing accomplices._

_Either way, I never could prove you had anything to do with it. I had of course my intuition as a mother, but that does not count for much, I’m afraid, and so I had to answer that I didn’t know who was responsible. Thorin was rather displeased with the whole matter as we very much wanted to remain friends with the dwarves of the Iron Hills. I doubt he would have minded as much if you had pranked an elf instead._

_And speaking of elves brings me back to my story, because it were the elves that we needed to convince most of all. Whatever Thranduil decided, Erland would do as the elves did. On his own he was nothing, just a puffed up little man with too much ambition and greed, and bad breath to top it off. How Thranduil could even stand the sight of him has always been somewhat of a mystery to me, to be quite honest._

_But we had at least somewhat of a plan, a plan that still didn’t feel entirely right to both Thorin and me, but it was the best we had. Still, I very much feared it wouldn’t work…_

 

Dawn had come two hours previous and it had come too soon for Thorin’s liking. Even after Kate had gone to sleep had he stayed awake, gazing into the fire, all but willing another plan into existence. Such a plan had not presented itself to him. There was nothing that would serve as an acceptable alternative to the idea that Kate had shared. It was either that or be laid siege to once again, and that would be the death of them.

It really was as simple as that. To remain firm in his decision not to share Erebor’s wealth with those so unworthy of it would mean a siege and then death from starvation, or death in battle, should he be so desperate as to chance it. There was no wisdom in such a course of action and yet his nature urged him towards it. He was a dwarf, the embodiment of stubbornness and pride. The wealth of Erebor was his people’s pride, the result of their labour. To squander it on elves went against everything he believed.

But it was his only option and so he would have to rein in his pride and console himself with the prospect of being as unpleasant as he could be to both his foes when Erebor was restored and powerful once again. And if they were successful today, that time would come. It may not come in a year, but it may in five, or ten. Once his people had come home, they would make the kingdom strong again. They would rebuild.

A part of him resented Kate for ever thinking up the plan in the first place, but he also knew he would be wrong to blame her for coming up with what might be the only way to survive. But quite apart from having to give away Erebor’s wealth, he strongly disliked the cunning words that would talk the elves into accepting the terms that would be offered. It was too much like something Thranduil would do.

Kate had sensed that, had sensed that he would rather not get involved in such a scheme and so she had offered him a way out. It was a noble thing to do, but not the right thing. They were working together now, not alone. They had done that for long enough, and he had seen the devastation it left in its wake. That had to end.

But quite apart from that, he had not forgotten Thranduil’s careful observation that she seemed to be doing most of the talking for Durin’s Folk and if she was not to be torn limb from limb by an angry mob of dwarves, then this proposition would have to come from him. Not even Dáin would be able to keep quiet if she were to be seen and heard offering dwarven wealth to elves and men, wealth that she had no right to, or that was how they would see it. Kate may not have considered this, but he had.

‘You know, I can practically hear you frown,’ she observed. They were on their way to the negotiations, having successfully squeezed themselves past an ever more unpleasant smelling dragon corpse, and Kate was walking next to him, but she did not look up when she made her remark.

‘It is nothing,’ he dismissed her concern. Nothing that could be helped anyway. It had to be done, but he didn’t have to like it. He wished that this day was already over and done with and, if that could not be done, then he wished for something of Kate’s disposition. She did not like what they had to do either, but at least she could summon up an expression that may be more in line with their claims of gratitude to the elves, even if it was more of concealed glee at being able to outwit them than it was real gratitude.

‘That scowl doesn’t look like it’s nothing,’ she said. Correctly guessing his thoughts, she added: ‘You can still let me do it, you know. I can do the talking and all you’ll have to do is back up my words with a confirmation of some kind.’

He had been right in thinking that she didn’t realise what her offering dwarven treasure to outsiders would mean for her own position as his queen. And in the present company, he could not tell her that either. Dáin had been informed – and had done a lot of grinding teeth as a result, but had not dared to protest – and Fíli had been made aware as well. He did not like it either, but he had seen the sense in the scheme, which was more than could be said for the Lord of the Iron Hills.

‘No, I’ll do it,’ he merely said.

If she had said she could hear his frown, he could practically hear her eye roll. ‘Could you quit it with the whole martyr thing? It’s trying my nerves.’

‘I’ll do it,’ he repeated, making sure that she knew that this was not up for debate. They had gone over it, decided that they would do it together and he was not one to go back on his word once it had been given. That after all was the dwarvish thing to do. Theirs was a race that stood by their word. Thorin was no exception, no matter what elves and men thought of him. They knew nothing.

She gave up. ‘Far be it from me to force the King under the Mountain to do something he doesn’t want to do.’ The tone was slightly chagrined, as he had been expecting; she never took kindly to commands, had ignored most of his when given the slightest chance. However, that was one luxury she didn’t have now.

There was no more time for idle talk. If they did not want the elves to know of their plan, then they would have to be careful that their sensitive hearing did not pick things up that were not meant for their pointy ears. Even though the tent was still some distance away, everywhere around them, conversation fell silent.

Elvaethor was the one to greet them when they arrived, cheerful as ever. To look at him you would never know that there had been a battle just a couple of days ago. Thorin could hardly recall ever seeing any negative kind of emotion on the elf’s face. Maybe there had been some form of worry on his face during the battle and before, when he revealed Nói’s treason to them, but other than that, he was his usual and cheery self. And he grated on Thorin’s every nerve. It was the world’s greatest mystery what Kate could see in him, but when last he checked, she spoke of him with affection – maybe even fond exasperation – but not with the thorough dislike Thorin felt. She was frequently annoyed by him, that much was true, but he could not shake the feeling that she saw him more as a friend than an enemy.

He offered his most polite greetings to Thorin, who accepted them with as little politeness as he could get away with, before he turned to Kate. ‘Queen Kate, you look most radiant this morning.’

Radiant was not the word Thorin would have chosen. She looked chilled and nervous to him. But then, Elvaethor was nothing if not a flatterer and his words could be ignored if he so chose.

Kate only laughed. ‘If you are to be believed, I look radiant even after a battle, so forgive me for not giving much credit to your compliment, my friend.’ The fond tone belied her words.

Some time when he wasn’t looking she must have come to like the elf a great deal. The worst thing was that he had a strong suspicion when it had happened: before the battle, when they were under siege and Kate made regular walks to the side door to receive the gift of food that the insect brought them. But it was not just food she got from him, it was the companionship as well. In a time when he had fallen out with her, she had sought friendship from the elf. He could not quite escape the idea that he could have prevented this had he not been so stubborn.

It was too late now to do anything about it; Kate seemed to have made up her mind about Elvaethor. Thorin hoped to the Maker that the former captain of the guard would not make for a regular guest in Erebor.

‘A friend is allowed to say these things, isn’t that right?’ Elvaethor asked innocently.

‘I suppose.’ Kate shook her head. ‘On that note, you look well yourself.’

Thorin could not help but think that comment was meant in jest, because the elf did not look well. To be honest, he looked tired. It took one a while to see this through the ever-present cheerfulness, but the signs were there, hard though they were to see on elves.

Elvaethor laughed. ‘I thank you for that compliment, Queen Kate.’

Her resulting laughter was music to his ears. Part of him envied her the ability to be so easily coaxed out of dark moods – it was an art he had never mastered himself – while another part wondered how she could forget the harms done to her so quickly. The loss of Kíli, the loss of her family, the hard task still ahead of them, how could she laugh in the face of that?

He knew the answer, he realised, because Kíli had possessed a similar gift. His quick laughs had driven away many a shadow. He had the gift to be happy, to be satisfied with what he had. He would have been content to spend all his days in the Ered Luin as long as there were friends and family around. He never had what his uncle had: the wish for more, the need for better.

Kate only had part of that gift, but she had some of it. When there were friends and family to cheer her, she would easily let herself be cheered up. Would that he had some of that, but the losses he’d suffered were never far from his mind.

The laughter died soon enough once they were admitted into the tent. The atmosphere was icy, even though the temperature was pleasant. There were more people than there had been yesterday. There were decidedly more elves and Erland seemed to have brought all the advisors he had been able to find, which meant that some of them were in various conditions of injury. One of them had a bandage that covered all of his right arm, while another leaned heavily on a walking stick. A third looked like he had seen death in the eyes, but had risen from his sickbed all the same to attend the meeting. Thorin shouldn’t wonder they’d have to call for a healer before long.

In comparison his own retinue seemed small. He’d only brought Dáin, Ragnar and Fíli. Dwalin had insisted to come along to guard their backs and Thorin, knowing that arguing would serve no point, had given in. If truth be told, he felt safer knowing his friend at his back.

The greetings were as polite as he could have expected. He could taste the resentment underneath. No doubt some had come to the conclusion that they would not have suffered the losses they had if they had only stayed at home and let have the orcs have at the dwarves at their pleasure. Kate’s words about offering reward seemed wiser in the light of this observation.

This simmering resentment did not stop several of the men from ogling Kate in a manner that suggested they’d very much like to see what was under her dress. The one she was wearing was modest and had a high neckline of which Thorin heartily approved, but it clung to her figure and that was the thing that attracted attention.

By dwarven standards, Kate was as far from beautiful as one could get. She was too skinny, didn’t have a beard and she hardly had any physical strength to speak of. Her only redeeming quality was that mane of red curls. Thorin had learned to see beyond that. He liked her smile, the twinkling in her eyes, the motions she made with her hands when she got excited about something. It enabled him to see beyond her “flaws.”

But to the men around this table, who defined beauty in quite a different manner, Kate was pretty, maybe even beautiful. He had been among their lot enough to know what they valued in their women. And even if he hadn’t learned from those days, he would have known what they thought of Kate’s looks by the way they looked at her. The man with the walking stick didn’t let his injury stop him from openly leering at Kate and there were looks from others as well that indicated that they liked what they saw. Lord Erland had done the same thing when he had first seen her bathed and in a dress and it had set Thorin’s teeth on edge even then, when he had no right to call her his. Of course, his ogling had ceased soon enough when he had learned that Kate’s tongue was like a razor he could easily get wounded by.

And it vexed him that other men found it so easy to appreciate the look of her when it had taken him several months to reach a similar conclusion. It was one thing he would not have to worry about with his own people – which was better for his peace of mind – but to have others look at Kate as though they would want her in their bed, that made his blood reach boiling point. And to haul these lords over the table to make them give answer for their conduct, like he had done those ignorant younglings only a few days ago, that would do him no favours here. But Mahal help him, the temptation to do so was growing by the second.

Kate only noticed Walking Stick’s eyes and sent him a freezing glare, which at first went entirely unnoticed because his gaze was directed at Kate’s breasts rather than her face. Only when she cleared her throat did he look up and see the icy stare that was directed at his person. He coloured a deep crimson and stole a glance at Thorin, only to be met with more disapproval.

 _Peace, Thorin Oakenshield_. That was Galadriel’s voice in his head again. The she-elf had clearly not yet understood that her intrusion was as offensive as it was unwanted. If she would speak to him, let her speak so that all could hear. _They do not truly desire her._

It rather looked that way to him. Maybe it was only her body they desired and not the person she was inside, but it made no difference to him.

 _They would have you lose your temper before negotiations have begun_ , the elf explained. _To grant them their wish will do you no good._

This was all a ploy then, a ploy to make him look bad. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He had been met with nothing but hostility and subterfuge since he had stepped foot in this tent. Kate had endured it longer still.

But this begged a question in desperate need of asking. _What is this to you? You bear my people no love_. That was a statement rather than a question. After all, it was well-known that elves and dwarves had been at odds since the First Age.

_Your kingdom needs to be strong, King under the Mountain. There are darker times still to come._

After that, it went silent and Thorin would not ask her what she meant. He had a feeling that she would not answer him. That were elves for you. They gave you one piece of cryptic information and then promptly refused to tell what it was that they meant. It was their way, but something that was very trying for his nerves.

Still, he could not help but wonder about her words as the refreshments were offered and accepted. Darker times were still to come? She could not speak of the near future, for the threat against this region had been utterly destroyed. Whatever little there was left of the vast army that had marched against the Mountain had been scattered and severely injured. They would need decades before they could ever threaten anything again, and even then not in the numbers they had boasted just a week ago. This battle would safeguard them from orcs for many, many years.

No, these dark things would be a thing of the far future, but elves measured time in a different manner. A hundred years would pass for them in the blink of an eye, because what is one century when one has an eternity to live? The threat may not come in his lifetime, but he would take what help was offered for the sake of his people.

When all pleasantries – such as they were – had been observed, tension joined them around the table.

‘It is good of you to come back to the negotiations,’ Thranduil said. He had been very quick to speak up and Thorin did not like that. The elf’s words had been nothing but poison thus far.

Kate frowned; clearly she was looking for the snake in the grass as well. ‘We said we’d be here,’ she said, suspicion in her voice as well. ‘We have given you no reason to distrust us, have we?’

And they hadn’t. They’d been as good as their word in all their dealings. There had been enmity, but no dishonesty, except for the story about their marriage and the true cause of the fire in the woods, both of which were things that Thranduil didn’t need to know about.

‘You had said so,’ Thranduil nodded. It escaped no one’s notice that he had easily side-stepped Kate’s question about their honouring agreements. It was all he could do to stop his teeth gritting in anger. The elf was toying with them, trying to throw them off before they had properly started.

He yearned to speak up and demand answer for the insults paid, but he remembered Galadriel’s words and they urged him towards silence rather than speech. This was a game that Kate was better suited to than he was. Until the moment he could announce his proposition he could better hold his tongue and hope that Dáin would be wise enough to do the same.

‘And so you can see for yourself that we do as we say,’ Kate said, a little triumphant. ‘And I thank you not to imply otherwise. We came here to discuss business as adults, not to trade insults in the guise of semi-polite observations.’

‘My king offered you no insult,’ Lainor said, indignant on Thranduil’s behalf. Like as not, that was a show. Thorin already knew him for a bootlicker, one who strove for glory by smarming his way around the king. _He’s Thranduil’s puppet_ , Kate had remarked when they were in Esgaroth. _Thranduil is pulling the strings; by himself he is nothing. I wonder if he even realises it._ He rather doubted that. When he came to think of it, the same was true for Lord Erland, who depended on the elven king as well for his power. If Thranduil were to ever cut him loose – and Thorin would not blame the elf for that; the man was appalling – he would be nowhere.

Kate ignored that. Instead she began to brief their former allies on the latest developments. She detailed what the search parties had found, mentioned the work of the healers – how had she even had the time to come by all this information, he wondered – but neatly avoided any mention of their supplies and how long they would last. That was not the kind of information one gave to a foe. He noticed that Thranduil had narrowed his eyes at this, but he did not comment.

‘Are there any new developments on this end?’ Kate finished, as if this was still just a meeting to establish who did what.

Thorin had to breathe deeply and remind himself that cutting these tedious proceedings short would do him no good at all. But it only gave Thranduil more opportunity to cut in and demand payment before he could announce his offer. It made him feel ever more ill at ease.

There was more meaningless talk about casualties and injuries that passed Thorin by altogether. He was not one for nerves, but there was too much at stake for him not to feel a certain measure of anticipation. Much depended on this, on him saying the right words in the right moment.

At long last one of Erland’s advisors ended his account. It was an elderly man who had been doing the talking and he appeared to be hard of hearing, hence his tendency to speak loudly and slowly. Kate muttered something that might have been ‘finally’ but it was too soft and too quick for him to be entirely sure.

‘Well, now that we have concluded this, maybe we should…’ Thranduil was quick to speak again.

But he would not be allowed to finish that sentence, because if he did, then all Kate’s scheming would have been for nothing and they had come too far now. And so Thorin Oakenshield swallowed his dislike of deceit and interrupted. ‘There was a matter that I would like to discuss.’

The elf stopped talking mid-sentence, which had to be a first. Thranduil of Mirkwood never stopped for anything or anyone, never mind that he would let himself be stopped by a dwarf, someone who belonged to a race he clearly detested very much. Truth be told, the dislike was entirely mutual, and not just for reasons that went back to the First Age. Thorin only had to search his memories to find slights aplenty.

He recovered quickly. ‘Of course, if there is something that we have overlooked, speak,’ he invited. ‘Never let it be said that I have hindered you.’

‘Too late for that. You’ve already done that,’ Kate muttered under her breath, and Thorin concurred. He too had not forgotten their imprisonment, nor the betrayal that dated back to the day Erebor had fallen. And all that because the elven king feared the wrath of a dragon. Truly, had he thought the beast would slumber forever on his stolen treasure? Had he thought that Smaug would not eventually turn to Mirkwood and the wealth the elves had hoarded? Elves were not generally that short-sighted. Their memories were long and they had seen dragons before. They more than anyone should have known that dragons would never have enough gold to hoard. But instead they had hidden among their trees and shut the world out, while his people were starving and dying in exile, with no friends to turn to for aid, because the friends they thought they had had turned away when they begged – and that had been a humiliation in its own right; Durin’s descendants being brought so low that they had to stoop to begging to survive – for help of any kind. Food, a shelter, healers for the wounded. The elves had all those things, more than they could ever need for themselves, but they had turned away

It was wrong. That was something that he felt with his entire being, his entire soul, to give the elves what they desired with no fight at all. They were unworthy of a reward of any kind. And the men of the Long Lake were only a very little better. To have dealings with Girion’s heir was an honour, to have dealings with the slothful Master of Esgaroth was a torment. Aye, he’d helped them in the hour of their need, but only for his own gain. He had shown his true colours and they were not to Thorin’s liking.

It was wrong. Every fibre of his being rebelled against the proposition he was about to put to them, but he had no choice. His people could not eat gold, and matters would have to be very desperate before Thorin even considered eating the dragon’s flesh to keep from starving.

‘We have not thanked you properly for the part you played in the battle,’ he said. It was a trial forcing the words out of his mouth. He did not feel gratitude, for they had earned none. But those were the words he had to say. Kate had been right about one thing, though; she would have been able to pull this off much better than he was. Not that she was any good at the whole grovelling and gratefulness part, but she would have spoken with an air of nonchalance, as if it was completely natural for them to express their gratitude in gold.

Thranduil was clearly surprised. For a second he lost control over his face. One eyebrow went up before he remembered himself and he schooled his expression back into something more resembling a polite but haughty wonder. ‘Is that so?’

Thorin ignored yet another slight against him and forced himself to nod his confirmation. ‘Indeed we are.’ He was not, would die before he would truly owe his gratefulness to the likes of Thranduil. Too much had happened for those fences to ever be mended. ‘And as an expression of our gratefulness, we would like to offer a small measure of the wealth of Erebor to the elves and men to be distributed among them as they see fit.’ The last part was his own creation – and he shuddered at the idea that he too was now starting to use elvish tactics in his attempts to be rid of them – that would hopefully leave them squabbling amongst themselves. At the very least it might take the focus of him and his. ‘It is our wish that you would accept this gift.’

In a little under two centuries of life on and under this earth, Thorin had never seen the sight his eyes took in then: Thranduil’s jaw had well and truly dropped.

***

For a moment there Kate thought they were done for when Thranduil began to speak. There was a gleam in his eyes that betrayed that he was about to turn this conversation back to the matter that had led him and his bloody army to the Mountain in the first place: his so-called right to the treasure. In Kate’s opinion he only had a right to a scolding after which he needed to be sent to his room without supper, but then, such a thing was not exactly within her powers, much though she might wish for it.

Fortunately Thorin realised the danger and cut in. ‘There was a matter that I would like to discuss.’

Thranduil looked mildly surprised, something not often seen on that face, but Kate promptly forgot all about that when he responded with: ‘Of course, if there is something that we have overlooked, speak. Never let it be said that I have hindered you.’

The reply was so absolutely ludicrous that Kate had muttered her own response – ‘Too late for that. You’ve already done that’ – before she could check her tongue. But then, did he really think they would forget Mirkwood so quickly? He would have been a fool to assume it.

From across the table she could see the elves’ faces and they had definitely heard her words. Legolas looked vaguely ashamed – it was so bloody hard to tell with the elves that she could never be entirely certain – while Lainor and several others sent her glares from which she should have dropped dead on the spot.

_Bloody well done, Andrews. Causing diplomatic disaster, are we?_

Fortunately Thorin had more sense than she had. He pretended that he hadn’t heard her even though she was right next to him. ‘We have not thanked you properly for the part you played in the battle,’ he said. If that was meant to be sounding grateful, though, Kate had some bad news for him. He spoke like he had clenched his jaws and was forcing the words out without moving them, and his facial expression suggested he was chewing on lemons.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake!_ She remembered her own words only too well – _you dwarves don’t have a cunning bone in your bodies, do you?_ – and realised the truth of them. Thorin didn’t do grateful, not even when it was only pretend, and he certainly didn’t do it towards elves that he hated. He’d hardly made a secret of that in the past few months.

And she certainly could not fault him for that. Her own attitude towards elves was a little more ambivalent, though. After all, she counted Elvaethor a friend and his sister wasn’t all that bad either. As far as she had seen, Legolas was possessed of some common decency as well. But she could never see them in an entirely positive light because of where and with who she belonged and neither would they ever appreciate her for the same reason.

 _Not that I would ever have gotten along with them very well_ , she thought. Elves were too aloof, too above it all. Dwarves and men were far more down to earth, more grounded in the world they lived in, which made her feel far more at ease. _Although Blackbeard would make for a good elf, what with the way he keeps his nose up in the air as if he’s too good for the rest of us._ The thought nearly made her smile.

 _Not the time to be distracted, girl_ , she had to remind herself, so she turned her attention back to the meeting itself and, more specifically, Thranduil’s reaction.

As it was, the elf’s face was a study in surprise. ‘Is that so?’ he asked. Apparently Thorin’s words had been sufficient to throw him off balance. Maybe he was tricked into thinking that Thorin only had the one facial expression – chagrined disapproval – and that he therefore only had to listen to the words he spoke and not look at the face as well for additional information. Not that he’d be that wrong about Thorin’s face. Kate had not seen him look any different in their dealings with the pointy-ears so far.

‘Indeed we are,’ Thorin agreed. It was a little more convincing this time, but only just a little.

To Thorin it felt infinitely wrong what they were doing. It didn’t sit well with Kate either, but it was something they had to do regardless of their own opinions. _Just as long as it gets them gone from here, I’ll count myself lucky._ Giving away treasure beat starving in her humble opinion.

‘And as an expression of our gratefulness, we would like to offer a small measure of the wealth of Erebor to the elves and men to be distributed among them as they see fit,’ Thorin went on, having decided that now that he had started, he might as well see it through. Kate mentally applauded the addition of having the elves and men figure out who was getting how much. That might keep them arguing among themselves. Such a thing could only be in their favour. ‘It is our wish that you would accept this gift.’

 _It is our wish that you will clear the hell out of here,_ Kate mentally translated. _And the sooner you’ll all be gone, the better I’ll like it._

These words were met by the most amusing thing she had seen in a very long time: Thranduil’s jaw actually dropped. He positively stared at Thorin as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly. Of course, Thorin expressing gratefulness was strange enough in and out of itself, but also more or less justified, but Thorin offering gold of his own free will, now that was truly unheard of, especially after all the mess that had preceded the battle.

 _We’re one step ahead of him. He didn’t see it coming_. She had a hard time suppressing the feeling of triumph that was building in her chest. At least so far it was working, it was bloody well working! They’d managed to make their proposal right before Thranduil was going to start nagging about the treasure again.

 _Hold your horses_ , she told herself. They had not won quite yet and she would do well to remember that before she got all happy. Yes, the first part had gone off better than she could have hoped – and denying that Thranduil’s face if photographed and framed would never ever cease to be a source of amusement would be absolutely pointless – but there was still some talking to be done. _Save the cheering for after you’ve won._ If _you’ve won_. Because despite her current optimism, that was not yet a certainty.

 _Brace yourself for something of a fight_. Not that she had not already noticed some of the more subtle tactics their former allies had been applying to make them lose their temper before they even got to the main point. It had taken her a little while to notice what they were doing, but eventually the collective staring at her breasts had become too obvious not to see. Thorin had almost lost his temper then, but fortunately had remembered just in time that would do more harm than good. But there had been subtle slights as well and it had set her teeth on edge.

 _If you want to fight dirty, be prepared to be repaid in equal coin_ , she thought. Elves did not have the monopoly on subtle insults, whatever they liked to think, and Kate had enough ammunition to make them look very bad if the situation called for it. _Who needs swords when they can use words to fight?_

‘That is unexpected,’ Legolas remarked; his father was still lost for words, as were most of the other attendants. Only the Lady Galadriel looked singularly unsurprised; like as not she had read their intentions in their minds. _Honestly, could she keep out of our minds? Does the word privacy even mean anything to her?_

‘Is it?’ she countered lightly. Thorin had insisted on making the offer, but he had said nothing about her not being allowed to talk after that. ‘We are expressing our gratefulness for your aid, your immeasurable aid. Without it, the Mountain would surely have fallen again, be it to a different foe, one that is surely as foul as any dragon.’ At least Smaug had not truly desecrated the halls of the dwarves. The orcs had been known to do that with every place they set foot in.

Kate found it only a little easier than Thorin to speak words like that. Everything inside balked at the offer they were making. How much worse then would it be for Thorin, whose ancestors had created the wealth they were now giving away? Small wonder he found it so hard to put on a grateful face. Nothing about this was easy for him.

‘That is true,’ the elven prince confirmed. _Not suffering from a false sense of modesty, are you?_ Still, he sounded more puzzled than anything else. _He’s trying to work out what our motives are, what the hell we think we’re doing._

 _Let them wonder. It’ll give us an advantage. And advantages had been few and far in between._ They were owed some luck after all their trials, were they not?

‘Well then, does that mean you’ll accept our generous gift?’ she asked. She added a mental snort to the question. As if they would ever turn down such an offer. Especially Erland was greedy; he’d not spurn that kind of gift.

True to expectations there appeared a feverish gleam in the Master’s eyes. ‘Exactly how generous an offer are you speaking of, Queen Catherine?’

That question was met by a multitude of low growls coming from dwarven throats. They would be too low for the men to hear, although the elves would surely pick them up; sensitive ears and all that. But even they had been shocked into silence.

‘That, my lord, is rather a rude thing to ask, wouldn’t you agree?’ Her companions were too occupied being offended that it fell to her to tell the Master of Lake-town to mind his manners, should he unexpectedly happen to be in the possession of some. If he had them, they were in desperate need of a polish. ‘I believe you were told that it would be a generous reward. I was brought up never to question a gift. Weren’t you?’ Just on the off-chance that his parents had tried to teach him a thing or two about human communication and etiquette. He’d had to have some qualities to have him end up as Master of Lake-town. Or that was what she hoped.

Erland looked mildly chastised, but did not yet back off. ‘Does this gift include the offer you already made?’ he wondered.

 _The bloody nerve of him!_ It was nothing short of a miracle that Thorin had not already done something rash, but his tight grip on the table spoke volumes. He was only seconds away from speaking up, and the words falling from his lips would be far from kind. _As the dolt no doubt deserves._

She had to remind herself that bashing the insufferable man’s head against the table would serve no purpose. ‘My lord, I would hate to repeat myself, but I have learned that it is unkind to question that which has been so selflessly offered to me. I did not think custom would be that different in the East.’

‘Indeed such a thing is found to be most unusual and even offensive,’ Elvaethor spoke up. Kate could have hugged him. Here he was, leaping to their defence again. _Will we ever stop owing him for all the favours he’s done us? Elvaethor and Bilbo Baggins, the greatest heroes of this whole quest and they aren’t even dwarves._ ‘I would advise you to check your tongue, Lord Erland, for you are offering grave insult to the Folk of Durin and will be made to answer for it should you continue in this vein.’

The prospect of being faced with a host of offended dwarves got through to him whereas Kate’s lessons in etiquette had utterly missed their goal. _No good trying to achieve something even his mother failed at, Andrews._ The Master of Lake-town paled considerably at being called to question by one of those he considered his allies. And without those allies he was no one and nowhere, so he knew better than to offend them. If the elves agreed with the dwarves, who was he then to do something else? _He’s a pathetic little man who likes to believe he’s more powerful than he is._

‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

_I do. They call it greed, my lord._

Thorin nodded. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said gruffly. He still looked like he’d rather bite Erland’s head off, though. _He’s not alone in that_. But they could not make him pay for that insult. Their hands were tied as long as they were practically under siege.

‘Of course, we would be honoured to accept such a generous gift from our valued allies,’ Erland was quick to add. _Afraid we’ll revert the offer after your rudeness, my lord?_ As if they even could do that now that they could only get in and out with the explicit permission of the elves and men, something Erland – fortunately – temporarily seemed to have forgotten. But if he wanted to call them valued allies again, Kate would be glad of it. After he’d said those words with so many witnesses, he would have a very hard time going back on them.

‘We are pleased you will accept,’ Thorin said. That at least he seemed to mean. Well, he’d mean it as long as it would get those infernal elves and men gone, preferably by this time tomorrow.

‘Nothing would give us greater pleasure,’ Erland ensured him. _That I can believe, you greedy bastard_. ‘It has been an honour to fight by the side of our allies as our ancestors did in days long gone.’

His ancestors may have fought with the parents of the members of the company as she knew them. They would have been too young to fight in the days before the Mountain fell to Smaug, but some of them would have lived then already. It was a strange thought. _They’ll live longer than I will._ In a strange way that was reassuring, because as long as battles and skirmishes did not come to their doorstep, she would not have to lose any of them in her lifetime.

 _Head on the game, girl._ This tendency to get distracted by her own thoughts was decidedly not a good habit. _One down, but one still to go, and Erland may still go back on his words if Thranduil decides to be difficult._ Which was more or less a given, because Thranduil had been nothing but difficult ever since she had first clapped eyes on him.

Speaking of the devil, he seemed quite recovered from the shock Thorin had dealt him. ‘This is indeed a generous offer you are making,’ he said. Kate wondered if she was the only one who thought his smile was too forced to be real. ‘But it is also quite… unexpected.’ His son had said the same thing, but it had not sounded quite so malevolent from his lips as it did from the father.

‘It is not,’ Thorin said.

‘You stood by us in a battle that was not yours to fight,’ Kate said. It was something Thorin should have said, but there was a limit to the things he would admit to. This was the limit. Actually admitting to needing help, no, that was a bridge too far. So she said what needed saying in his stead. That was not ideal, but it was a solution of some kind. ‘It would be a grave injustice to deny that.’

‘Indeed,’ the elven king said thoughtfully. ‘One might almost say that it is too good to be true.’

 _Oh no, you bastard, you don’t_. ‘Would you perhaps like us to give our word that this is a deal we won’t go back on?’ she asked sweetly, before he could imply anything else. _Will that insinuating of his ever stop?_ ‘The way I see it, your lack of faith in us is more than just a little insulting. Be careful you don’t overstep, my lord.’

The warning Elvaethor had given to Erland could just as easily be used on Thranduil and he’d better remember it. A fight against the elven king was not something they could win, but he’d pay dearly for it. Kate had seen them fight and although they lacked the elegance with which the elves fought, they more than made up for it in deadliness. _Better hope that they won’t call your bluff, Andrews._

But it would appear she had read him right. ‘I did not imply anything,’ the elf said. Of course someone who turned away from a whole people’s plight without lifting a finger to aid them was not going to risk lives when he didn’t have to. _You’ve shown your hand. I have found your weakness._ Had she known that, she would have threatened immediate violence much sooner.

Thorin must have realised the same thing. ‘Then make sure your words cannot be interpreted thus.’

‘Are you threatening my king?’ Galas spoke up.

Kate had almost forgotten he was there; he had not exactly been vocal lately, but now he was given her full attention and, as it turned out, Thorin’s. And it appeared his opinion of Thranduil’s nephew had not approved since they had last met.

‘We have offered a share of the treasure to your king and his… friend,’ he said. The last word was said with a certain measure of doubt that Kate shared. Whatever the relation between those two, it was not exactly friendly. Neither did Kate deem it to be entirely healthy, but then, that was their business, not hers. If Erland wanted to be a doormat, that was his choice to make. ‘And yet we have been met by enmity at every turn. Is this what is to be expected for the future, I ask?’

Kate almost groaned. Ugh, as if she needed reminding that these people were to be their neighbours. As Thorin said, this hardly boded well for the future. Were they going to be at each other’s throats till the end of time or were some people going to act their bloody age and do the responsible thing? Well, at least Bard seemed reasonable enough and Dale would be nearer by than Lake-town. _And if I never see Erland’s face again after today, it will be too bloody soon._

For a moment there it appeared that Thranduil was going to say something, but then he abruptly changed his mind, as though he had realised something important. He remained silent and one look at his nephew ensured that he did the same.

 _He’s lost the moral high ground_ , Kate realised. _We have done the right thing and he cannot question it without stooping to Erland’s level. And he knows it._

It was hard then to stop herself from smiling. But the knowledge that her plan was working, that it was really working, that was liberating. _So go, you pointy-eared arsehole. Just admit defeat and_ go _. We know where this is going to end._ Thorin had dealt the final blow, had questioned them and they could not answer. As soon as they were back in Erebor, she was going to do a happy dance around the hall and punch the air in triumph and she wouldn’t care who saw it.

‘Of course we would hate to give you that impression, King Thorin,’ Erland said quickly. It seemed that he had understood which way the wind blew and he didn’t know how fast he should change his strategy of licking Thranduil’s boots to licking Thorin’s. Kate had no patience or tolerance for his ilk at all, but as long as it got them what they wanted, Erland could do that routine to his heart’s content. ‘I ask forgiveness if I’ve given offence.’

If? He had done nothing but give offence, but never mind that.

_We’ve won._

It was getting ever harder to contain that triumphant feeling that was still building up. For whatever reason, Thranduil was not talking and Erland had changed his allegiance so fast she still had trouble wrapping her head around it. _Greed. It’s the greed that’s changing his mind, not anything we’ve said_. And it was obvious that Erland was rather rich than risk it all by asking more and receiving nothing. And that victory tasted sweet indeed.

‘As you said, it is indeed a generous offer,’ the elven king said, nodding as if still deep in thought. ‘And I thank you kindly for it.’ At least he didn’t blather on about the honour of fighting with them. Kate was glad of it, too. It was honest.

‘We will make sure the treasure is brought to you as you depart,’ Thorin added, eyes never leaving Thranduil’s. One of these days she really had to learn that trick that he had of looking up without craning his neck. He managed to look up without coming across as vulnerable. Kate had not quite mastered that feat yet. ‘As you understand, after a battle there is always a loss of discipline and order. You would not want your share to be robbed, I imagine.’ Oh, he had taken lessons from Thranduil in his way of talking, Kate was sure of it. Had circumstances been different, it might have been Thranduil saying those words. She could almost hear him do it, too.

 _You clever, clever guy._ He had only now dealt them the killing blow. He’d gotten them to accept and only then had the snake in the grass become apparent. Kate may take the credit for the plan, but Thorin should get all of the applause for the execution. She could see the realisation on Thranduil’s face, the realisation that the trap had closed itself and yet he had walked into it with his eyes wide open.

 _We’ve won this round._ She knew better than to think that this was the last spot of bother they’d ever get from him or from Erland, but they had gained themselves a truce if not a peace and that was enough to be getting on with for the moment. Everything else would come later.

After that, the meeting ended quickly. They had run out of matters to discuss. Erland promised he would let them know when he would take his leave – he also expressed the wish to leave as soon as he could – and Thranduil only gave a curt verbal affirmation that he would not linger longer than he had to either before the meeting ended and they left. The elves were the first to exit, and the men were following in their wake. Bard and his retinue followed, but not before Bard had managed something of an approving nod and smile in Thorin’s direction.

In the end only the dwarvish envoy remained with Gandalf, Elvaethor and Lady Galadriel. Thorin inclined his head to the lady. ‘I thank you for your aid,’ he said. ‘I am in your debt.’

That could not have been an easy thing to say for him, as he hated being in anyone’s debt, so that had Kate wondering, wondering about Thranduil’s sudden change of heart. Truth be told, she probably shouldn’t have been surprised by her influence.

‘You have my thanks as well,’ she said before turning to one of this quest’s unsung heroes. ‘And you as well,’ she told Elvaethor. ‘For all that you have done. I count myself in your debt.’ Anything less would be too little. No matter that Gandalf had asked him to look out for them, Elvaethor had gone above and beyond the call of duty.  
‘I am sure you will be able to repay me in the many stories you bring with you,’ the elf said. Of course, that unending curiosity of his.

‘I’ll be happy to oblige,’ she therefore said. After all, he’d already read the book, so even if he did not know everything yet, he knew enough already. And she did not think he was likely to tell his king. ‘When all is right again,’ she added. She then turned to Gandalf. ‘The task I gave you, is it done?’ _Are my letters sent? Does my family know?_

‘It is, Miss Andrews,’ he said.

‘I don’t go by Miss Andrews anymore,’ she reminded him sharply. ‘As you should know. But thank you.’ She meant that. It wasn’t easy, but it was a measure of closure all the same. _It still hurts. Will that ever stop?_ ‘For that and for some other things as well.’ Not for everything. She had always liked Gandalf as a character, but as a person he not quite as likeable as he had been in the book. _If I never saw him again, I would not mind one bit._

‘You have done well,’ he said again.

It was more solace now than it was when he said it the day before, but not much. She felt too hurt for that, too torn apart. She could be happy here, that was something she was quite certain of, but she could not forget what she had lost either. _You can’t have the happiness without the regret, Andrews, that’s the life you’ve picked out for yourself. Now learn to live with it._

‘Thank you,’ she said, but it was too much to ask to express more gratitude, especially when it was not deserved. But she did not trust her own self-control, didn’t trust herself not to say something she might regret later and so she turned on her heel and walked out. The sound of heavy boots told her that the others followed.

‘It is done,’ Thorin said when he fell into step with her. Kate deliberately slowed down and let the others pass so that they could follow at a pace that was better for that leg of his. To his credit, he did not comment on it.

‘It is done,’ she agreed.

It still had a feel of not-quite-real about it. They’d been fighting for this and now that need to fight was gone, leaving something of a void that she was not quite certain how to fill yet. There was time, time that she hadn’t had before and it had enabled her to push some things to the background, which had not been all that inconvenient at all. Now there was time to think, time to mourn for the dead, time to grieve for what had been lost, time to think about so many things. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet. _What follows now?_

‘Now we live,’ he said after a short period of quiet and it was only then that she realised she had posed her question out loud. It was a strange thing to hear from his lips, as they had always been surviving instead of living. ‘Now we wed.’

She had almost forgotten. There had been so much else to think on that it had been pushed back like all the other things. But now she remembered. And she found she hadn’t quite forgotten how to smile after all. ‘Now we wed,’ she agreed.

Yes, she thought she could do that.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _‘Now drink the drink that bubbles,_  
 _Now fire the festive guns_  
 _And God grant that your troubles_  
 _Be only “little ones”’_

_As if._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little (slightly moderated) rhyme in Kate’s notes is Lines to Janet on her wedding day by John O’ Mill in Rollicky Rhymes in Dutch and double Dutch. As Kate’s first language is English rather than Dutch, it is unlikely she would ever have heard of it, but I suppose falls under artistic license.  
> And so we have almost come to the end of the story. There’s just one more chapter and then an epilogue. The next chapter will be up on Wednesday (just for the ones who missed the Wednesday updates) and then the epilogue on Sunday. But I know there are things some of you would still like to see, so don’t despair, I’ve got Duly Noted, which I will keep going for quite some time to come.  
> As always, thank you for reading. A review would be much appreciated.


	95. Signed and Sealed

_Well, one thing I can tell you, my dears, whatever well-wishes that little piece of rhyme would bestow on me, my troubles have only very seldom been little ones, although it is certainly not for lack of trying on your part. It seems that some people just can’t help themselves; they have to stir up trouble, whether they be full-grown elves with millennia to their name or little princes and princesses – although, to be fair, mostly just the princes – who love to cause mischief and, unintentionally I should hope, diplomatic scandal at the ripe age of four, right Thoren?_

_But yes, we had won a round. The elves and men of the Long Lake were leaving at long last, but not without a share of the treasure. Part of me still thinks they had no right, but another, wiser, part of me can acknowledge that they had indeed fought beside us and that we owed them for that, if for absolutely nothing else. But without them there, the orcs would still have come and we would have died for sure. And of course they would never have been there if they had not been so bloody greedy in the first place._

_Did I tell you already that life can get very complicated? Not to mention messy._

_We had won. That in itself was difficult enough to comprehend, because all of a sudden it went all so very fast. One plan, one very skilled executioner and one meeting. In the end that was all it took. It seemed rather much like a miracle in the moment itself._

_But now I have the luxury of hindsight and I don’t think anymore that it was as miraculous as all that. Because at the time when this conflict came to an end, winter was well and truly upon us and it was a cold one. One does not feel the bite of the cold as well in Erebor as one does out on the fields before the gates, but I know that it was a harsh winter, one that lasted long, so that all of nature sighed in relief when spring finally graced us with its presence. That would have made for a very hard time for those laying siege to Erebor. With them not knowing how long we could last – which in all honesty would not have been long at all – that was a chance they did not dare take._

_And everyone was tired of the fighting and the conflict. We had fought a battle and many lives were lost in the process. We needed to heal more than we needed to fight over something as trivial as gold. Our dead needed to be buried and mourned, our wounded needed to heal and the survivors needed to rebuild. A war would have been bad for everyone. It would have harmed only ourselves. None would have profited in the end._

_But that is the kind of thing you can only see when you are no longer in the thick of it, when you have some distance so that you can see the whole picture. And by the time Thorin and I came to that meeting with our clever scheme, I think everyone was looking for an excuse to end it and go home. Of course nobody wanted to be the first to say so, because that would be the same as admitting that it had not been worth it after all and so why go to all that trouble in the first place? It was sheer stupidity and stubbornness that had kept us all trapped in that cursed impasse and fortunately for us, we were the ones to figure out how to break it. And in the end peace was worth more to me, to us, than a bit of gold that we could mine so much more of anyway._

_Still, even though the accord had been reached, it took them more than three weeks – nearer four than three – to leave. There were injured men that could not be transported until the worst had been healed and there were dead bodies that needed burying. To bring all of them back to the land they had come from was too much of an undertaking, if you’ll pardon the horrible pun, and that too took time, because we all took more care with our dead than the orcs do._

_But yes, eventually the last of the armies departed, which for your father and me meant that there was finally time for something that was quite possibly long overdue…_

 

Thorin woke naturally. That in itself was a strange enough thing these days. There was no one knocking on the door, demanding he come and see this person or that person about some matter of great importance. It was even stranger to wake to the sensation of a soft mattress under his back and a real pillow under his head. He had been sleeping on the road for so long and then in a bedroll on the cold floor of the Mountain he was king of that he had all but forgotten what it was like.

The bedroom had been a find of Bombur’s, who had graciously refused it so that Thorin could take up residence there. The apartment it was part of was all but undamaged, one of the few places that had been unmarked by the dragon’s presence. Situated in the southeast corner of Erebor it was about as far as it could be from the former royal chambers situated deeper down and far more to the west. These chambers had windows and two balconies, so there was natural light. He knew Kate appreciated that. If truth be told, he did not dislike it as much as a dwarf probably should. He had lived on the surface for too long.

 _We could stay here and make it our residence_ , he pondered as he stared up at the ceiling. Deep down he did not want to return to his family’s former home. He’d gone back there again on his own, about a week previous, and without another living body there with him to distract him, the ghosts were too tangible, too plentiful to bear. There were simply too many memories of people that had died. He could not live out his days in a place where he would never be free of them. And if he wanted to live in peace, he needed to find another place.

These chambers had belonged to a guardsman and his family. Thorin had known him, but not well. He thought the guardsman had been called Nuri and he had fallen in defence of Erebor when Smaug came. To his shame, he could not say what had become of his family. But if they had been here in these rooms, they might just have escaped. That thought consoled him a little, made him feel a little less like he was stealing from the dead.

The red-headed shape curled up next to him stirred and looked up at him. ‘You’re awake early,’ she remarked, the last remnants of sleep causing her to slur the words rather than speak them eloquently. ‘Aren’t you enjoying the peace and quiet?’ She grimaced. ‘While it lasts.’

He was. And she was right too. Only too soon there would be people banging on the doors, but not today. Today was his. Well, it was his and Kate’s. It took him a moment to remember that it was their wedding day. But maybe that was not so strange at all, because it would be a quiet affair, as to not alert every dwarf in Erebor that the wedding had not taken place already, like they all thought. Instead they had told everyone that they would like a day to commemorate their own dead in peace, without being disturbed, and that wish had been granted. Nevertheless, the need for deceit on his wedding day felt wrong. That should not be the way he dealt with his people.

 _I did not have a choice_. He knew that. To tell the truth now would have unforeseen and grave consequences, and he would not gamble with the future, would not gamble with the future of his own child. Honesty was worth much, but not that.

‘There’s the frown again,’ Kate observed. Her fingers traced the lines on his brow and he let her smooth them out. It was still new, this spontaneity in their relationship. Kate was starting to take more liberties now that she felt more certain and Thorin found he too didn’t always need an excuse to kiss her or draw her close. But it was one step at a time, because it was hard to change the habit of a lifetime. At least he could find some consolation in knowing that Kate had to unlearn much of the same.

‘Not anymore,’ he said.

But she was not letting him off the hook that easily. ‘What were you thinking of?’

He answered with truth. ‘We should stay here.’ It was in Erebor, near enough the centre and the throne room to be acceptable, far enough away that they could retreat here and not be disturbed. In time, these rooms might become a home for real.

Kate nodded. ‘I’d love to,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid Dori won’t agree with you there. He seems determined to cause a whole lot of bloody fuss about the thing.’ Her thoughts had been running along different lines then. ‘I’m severely tempted to have Dwalin tie him up and gag him until the whole thing is over and done with.’

Thorin chuckled at her moaning, although he doubted he would be doing much of that once Dori barged in here. Some weeks past Kate had casually mentioned her intention to not cause fuss and attract attention with the wedding, after which she had suggested marrying in her trousers and T-shirt. Thorin had more or less agreed, but they had the bad luck that Kate’s brother had overheard the conversation. And there was no telling him to stop once he got it into his head it was his responsibility to make sure his sister got married properly. He’d even gone as far as to remind Thorin he had once promised to do right by Kate and her getting married in her old things with no kind of celebration to mark such a momentous occasion did not count as proper in his book, or in anyone else’s for that matter. It was bad enough that he had gotten her pregnant before he married her, he’d said, finger wagging threateningly in Thorin’s face. He’d had little choice but to give in, because Dori did have a point. Kate had called him a traitor for agreeing with Dori – ‘I swear that the two of you are ganging up on me’ – but had conceded the point in the end. By the look of things, she sincerely regretted that.

‘He’ll shout down the Mountain and then everyone will want to know what he is on about,’ he reminded her. ‘And wouldn’t that be a sight to see?’ It was getting easier to be light-hearted, to joke with her like they had done in Mirkwood. _We’re finding our rhythm_ , Kate had said a few days past, and that was exactly the right word to describe it. ‘And that was not what I meant,’ he added.

She propped herself up on an elbow in order to properly look at him. ‘Then what do you mean?’

‘We should live here,’ he clarified. ‘Make it our home.’

Kate pondered this for a moment. ‘Yes, I can see us do that,’ she said. ‘I like this place.’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘I like that we have light here. Don’t mistake me, I like the rest of the Mountain well enough, but sometimes I miss the sun.’ It was as he had thought then. ‘Yes, I could live here.’ She settled back on the mattress. ‘I wonder how long we’ll have until my brother comes banging on the door, demanding we get ready.’

Given the fact that Dori was an early riser, up at the crack of dawn if not earlier, Thorin estimated they had about five minutes, if not less, unless Dwalin had pre-empted Kate’s intention to have him tied up, which he well might; by now most of the company had gotten truly fed up with Dori’s wedding preparations. It might be called a miracle that his people had not yet found out what was going on, what with all the fuss Dori was causing.

‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘If that.’

He had barely finished his sentence when there was a loud banging on the door.

‘Bugger,’ Kate said.

Thorin wholly agreed with her there, but as it would be rude to leave the door closed to someone he might soon have to count close kin, he got up and marched over. Walking went a bit more smoothly since Óin had discharged himself from the healers’ care to do some healing himself. Most other healers were too much in awe of Thorin to tell him what he should do – and Thorin had heeded their advice only until they were out of his sight before he found he had more important things to do than sitting still – but Óin had no such reservations. He had summoned a chair for his king and ordered him to sit in it. If folk wanted to talk to him, they could come to him and tell him what was amiss instead of having Thorin traipsing all over the Mountain to come to them. And if his king was still of a mind to go walkabout, he wouldn’t feel opposed to tying him up, a notion that had been silently approved of by both Dwalin and Kate. One of the first times that they agreed on something and it had to be that he should not be allowed to walk.

To his surprise it was not Dori, but Glóin, who held up a large document for his inspection. ‘Good morning. It is done,’ he announced as soon as he had given his greeting. He all but thrust it into Thorin’s hands. ‘It needed a bit of work, to make sure we got all the details right, what with making dates to fit so that it can go into the archives without raising any suspicion from our kinfolk from the Iron Hills.’

Kate had gotten herself out of bed and was peering curiously over his shoulder, frown etched in her forehead. ‘What in the blazes is _that_?’

Glóin must have missed the incredulous tone of voice, because he puffed his chest in pride and smiled broadly. ‘That is the marriage contract. In Khuzdul and the Common Tongue. Finished it just this morning. Or late last night. Either way, it is done. It only needs your signatures.’

Kate audibly gulped. ‘ _That_ is a marriage contract?’ She pushed her hair out of her face. ‘Bloody hell, I thought you had been writing the Middle Earth version of the Bible. How many pages does this thing have?’

That seemed to get through to Glóin; the glee subsided somewhat. ‘As many as it needs,’ he said. ‘Is there something wrong?’

Kate’s eyes caught his and there was something there that Thorin did not quite understand: naked panic. And he failed to see the reason for it. Glóin had done as he should have done. That contract would make their union binding. Was this one of those things that were different where she came from?

‘Leave it with us,’ he said curtly. ‘We will have a look at it. You have done good work. Tell Balin the same.’ They had been responsible for getting everything done in time and Thorin was grateful for that, especially to Balin, who had been doing most of the work from his sickbed before Thora had seen fit to release him.

Kate managed a weak smile and echoed the sentiment, but the panic in her eyes had not been abated. What could she possibly fear so much about this?

‘What is the matter?’ he asked as soon as the door had fallen shut behind his kinsman.

Kate had marched over to the table in the corner to pour herself a glass of water. ‘Nothing,’ she said. Even without looking at her, he knew that to be a falsehood. ‘Or it should be nothing, which is not exactly the same thing. It’s just…’ She swallowed down a bit of water and took a deep breath. Thorin waited until she continued talking. ‘The whole contract has sort of made me realise that I don’t know the first thing about customs or what is even expected of me today. And it kind of freaks me out.’

Kate admitting to things so easily was not new in itself, but it was new that she didn’t avoid his eyes anymore as she said it. They were making progress indeed, and he could only rejoice at that.

‘You can always ask Dori to explain,’ he said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘He would certainly be happy to oblige.’

Kate aimed a playful hit at his head, which missed. ‘Don’t you dare give him ideas. I’ve been trying to convince him to keep it low-key, but I don’t think he has been listening to me at all.’ She threw her hands in the air in what might be frustration. ‘I just wanted something simple, something to make it official, not… this!’ This referred to the celebration Dori had been organising. Only the members of the company would be present, including the hobbit, who had earned that right many times over, but it would be quite the party in spite of that. ‘And I’m now there is a contract I didn’t know about and vows in incomprehensible Khuzdul that I’m supposed to say and I’m dead scared I’ll screw it all up.’ That last confession came out quick, very quick, which suggested she had not meant to admit to that.

Not all that long ago he would have been led to believe by such words that she was having second thoughts about marrying him. He would have thought that she was about to abandon him, but that was when she could still have returned to her own world, when she had not been the one to propose they get married as soon as they possibly could. But that had happened and here they were.

But he hardly knew what to make of her concerns. There had not been many females in his life and the one he was closest to happened to be his sister, who he couldn’t ask, because she was not here. She would be in a few months’ time – and Mahal only knew what she would make of his decision to marry Kate Andrews – but for now he could not rely on her to provide an answer.

But his memory of her might. ‘Wedding nerves?’ he asked, recalling that Dís had been nervous then as well, although what for had always remained something of a mystery.  
Kate made a sound that was not exactly a snort and wasn’t a laugh either. ‘Of some kind,’ she said, before she caught herself and added: ‘I’m not nervous about tossing my lot in with you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m nervous about not knowing things that I think I should know. Ori’s written down the vows for me, but I’m not that good at reading Khuzdul yet and the parts that I can sort of make out don’t make a ton of sense.’

And they wouldn’t, not to her. The words were ancient, written and used in the First Age, vows almost as old as their own race. Kate would not know them, because how could she?

She had misinterpreted his silence. ‘I sort of know what they mean. They’re about loyalty, love and honesty, promising to stay together in this world and the next, but I don’t understand the phrasing and the pronunciation and I don’t think I can say them without making a complete fool out of myself.’

He disliked it, the way she defended her words and actions, as though she was afraid he would take it the wrong way if she didn’t explain. He felt even more uncomfortable because he knew that in the past he might have given her some ground for thinking like that. Neither of them had been in any way perfect, and they were plucking the fruits of their mistakes now when all was supposed to be well.

And it was well, but not entirely. The victory was laced with loss and lies. He had never imagined it all happening like this. All the lying was weighing heavily on his conscience. His own kin should have been told the truth, even if outsiders were left in the dark. Dwarves were secretive in nature, true enough, but not toward their own kin.

‘We can practise,’ he told her. Somehow, even though he wanted to, he could not quite find the words yet to tell her that she needn’t fear she had made him think that she would abandon him after all. It was not his way, and old habits took a long time dying. But it were actions that spoke for him more often than not. She would understand.

And so she did. She nodded and the panic disappeared. ‘That would help.’

They settled down on the edge of the bed – the chairs in this room had been used for firewood weeks ago – and began. Thorin had always counted himself a fair teacher, but that had been in the art of weaponry, not in linguistics. He explained the words to her, read them aloud so that she heard what they were supposed to sound like, but could not escape the notion that Ori would have done better. If Kate was of the same opinion, she at least had the good grace not to comment.

‘We might as well dispense with the whole wedding now that we’ve spoken those vows over and over again,’ was the only remark he got from her.

‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘But we haven’t said them in front of witnesses.’ And those would need to be present.

‘More’s the shame,’ she said.

They were given about half an hour before Dori made his presence known, and by that time Thorin could only agree with that sentiment. ‘Out,’ he commanded his king and soon-to-be brother-in-law – ‘Mark my words, he’ll be fussing over you next,’ Nori had remarked with a wicked grin where his older brother couldn’t hear – before he decided that Thorin took too long in obeying the command and all but shoved him out.

‘Sorry,’ Kate mouthed when he could only just find his balance before he fell flat on his face, even when it was decidedly not her fault. It probably wouldn’t do to show up at his own wedding with a broken nose.

‘You have one hour,’ he told Dori. Technically there was no set time for the ceremony, but he was King under the Mountain; he could establish one if he so pleased. It was more of a favour to his bride than a true necessity – Kate could not abide Dori’s ministrations for any longer than that – but this little at least he could do.

‘Thank you,’ she mouthed at him just before the door was slammed in his face.

‘You’ll be having fun with that for a brother, I’ll wager,’ Dwalin commented. His friend had been waiting for him outside. ‘I’ve been contemplating the benefits of locking him up in the dungeons for the day since sunrise.’

It almost made him smile. ‘Kate has been wondering about the possibility as well,’ he said. ‘She would have gagged him too.’

‘Can’t say I blame her; he’s been nagging everyone’s ears off the past few weeks.’ And it was well-known that Dwalin had little patience for mindless and needless talk except when it suited the purpose of spending time with valued friends.

It made him wonder. ‘Do you have peace with it?’ he asked.

From the tone, Dwalin could possibly deduce that he didn’t mean Dori and so he took a minute in answering. ‘Aye,’ he said eventually. ‘Can’t say she’s the kind of lass I’d thought you’d pick…’

It was easier to jest with Dwalin than it was with many other and so the comment took hardly any effort at all. ‘You thought I’d never marry at all,’ he retorted.

Dwalin didn’t miss a beat. ‘Quite,’ he said. ‘Didn’t think any lass in her senses could appreciate your scowls. Haven’t quite made my mind up about Kate’s sense, mind.’

‘She’ll love to hear that,’ Thorin interjected with a hint of sarcasm that until a few months ago had been utterly alien to him; yet another thing he could put down to too much time in Kate’s company.

His friend was not finished yet. ‘But she did a bloody good job in getting rid of the elves. The plan was hers, wasn’t it?’

For the sake of appearances, they had led his people to believe that it had been him who had thought it up, because Kate giving away dwarven gold would have made for riots in the streets of the newly reclaimed kingdom. He should have known his companions would know better than to ever believe the scheme had originated in his own mind. _You dwarves don’t have a cunning bone in your bodies, do you?_ Most of them indeed did not and he had always counted himself among their number. Dwalin knew that better than most.

‘How’d you know?’ he asked. ‘It could have been of your brother’s making.’

Dwalin laughed. ‘My brother was getting his ears chatted off by that healer at the time,’ he reminded Thorin. ‘He couldn’t do much thinking done if he wanted to. Nah, that had Kate’s mark all over it.’

‘You’re calling her by her first name now,’ Thorin observed. There had been a time when that had decidedly not been the case.

‘I can’t rightly call her Miss Andrews now, can I?’ he said. ‘I might not like her as a friend, but I don’t dislike her as much as I did.’ He seemed to ponder this for a moment and then added: ‘She’s made you smile. There aren’t many folks you’ll smile for, but you do for her. I can hardly fault her for that achievement, can I?’

‘She’ll be glad of your seal of approval,’ Thorin said. He knew he was. It would be hard to have a wife and a best friend who could hardly stand the sight of the other. And he’d keep them both close; he’d lost too much to bear any more losses. It had been enough.

‘You’re welcome.’ Even without Thorin spelling it out, Dwalin understood the message he had been trying to convey. He should be thanking the Maker on his knees for having been gifted with a friend like this. ‘Ah, here we are. Be prepared, your brother-to-be has been at it for the past week.’

The hall they were to use for the wedding was not as large as the halls that hosted celebrations in the days that Erebor had been a strong and thriving kingdom, but then, this would not be as large a celebration as weddings used to be in those days. There would only be eleven people in attendance in addition to the bride and groom. It had not stopped Dori from trying to get his hands on what ornaments and decorations – and quite possibly the food as well – he could and store them all in his hall. Some room had been left where the ceremony would be held, but most of the room was dominated by the table at which the feast would take place.  
For a moment he did not see the most important thing, though. And when he did see, he did not understand. The table had been set for fifteen people. ‘Are there guests that I am not aware of?’ he asked. He didn’t think Dori would have invited the wizard – they had never gotten along well – but he had been part of the original company, so maybe it was fitting. Which might mean that the last seat had been saved for Kate’s elvish friend, whom he’d much rather not have at his wedding.

‘None,’ Dwalin said. He had that look he had every now and then, when he was privy to some piece of information his king wasn’t.

‘Out with it,’ he commanded. It could well be that Dwalin thought that Thorin knew who was coming, although it wasn’t likely. Would it offend Kate too much if he refused to let the insect attend?

‘Table’s been set for all the company,’ his friend said.

For a moment, he still didn’t understand. And then he did. ‘Even for those who cannot join us.’ The idea was too thoughtful to originate with Dori. ‘Balin?’ he asked.

‘Aye, the notion was his,’ Dwalin confirmed. ‘They’d want to be here, wouldn’t they?’

They would, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Kíli had liked Kate, had liked her at Thorin’s side. If he had been alive to see this day, he would have cheered the loudest of all. Bifur would have approved more quietly, but yes, he would have given his approval to this match. He had been one of the few who had liked Kate almost from the beginning, even though they could not communicate with one another. Maybe he had seen in her a lost soul in a world that did not understand her, a kindred spirit of some kind. Thorin had never asked, and now he never could. Only memories remained.

‘Aye, they’d want that,’ he said softly, swallowing hard to get a grip on himself. Thorin Oakenshield was not moved to tears easily, but this had done the job. They would celebrate life here today, but they would also remember their dead. Given the story they’d told the other dwarves, it seemed strangely fitting. And if Dwalin had noticed anything, he had the good grace to pretend he hadn’t.

‘I knew you’d approve,’ he said. ‘Come on, my brother’s not as bad as Dori, but I doubt he’d approve of you getting married in nothing more than your tunic and trousers. After all the work Dori’s doing on your bride, it would be a sore shame to see the bridegroom in his night’s clothes. Mind you, you’d be writing history if you did.’

‘The first King under the Mountain to be killed by his brother-in-law for appearing poorly clothed at his own wedding,’ he muttered. He would not even put it beyond Dori. ‘You’d stop him before he got to me,’ he added, knowing that to be true.

‘Let’s not put that to the test,’ Dwalin said. ‘And I’m under orders from my brother to drag you in if need be.’

He might be the bridegroom and King under the Mountain besides, but Thorin had the uncomfortable feeling that nobody was about to obey his commands anytime soon.

***

By the time Dori was declaring himself pleased with her hair, Kate had made up her mind about what her first order of business as official Queen under the Mountain would be: to fix a restraining order against her brother and to officially forbid him from ever having anything to do with the organising of weddings, ever again. And here she was thinking that messing up those vows in that thrice-damned archaic Khuzdul was the worst that could possibly happen to her today. This of course had been before Dori swept in and had gotten started on her hair. And he still had the jewellery and the dress to do. _Heaven have mercy on me._ She wondered if Thorin would mind terribly if she showed up in casual clothes after all.

‘That’s as good an argument against marriage as I’ve ever seen,’ Nori commented when Dori had temporarily left the room to fetch the dress. He was leaning against a wall, wicked grin all over his face now that he wasn’t the one enjoying all the pleasures of Dori’s special attention. ‘Can’t let my brother worry over too much weddings; he’d do himself a harm.’

‘He’ll do me a harm, more like,’ Kate muttered. Dori had been pulling her hair so hard – he insisted on calling it brushing and plaiting, but she knew better – that her skull felt like it was roasted in Smaug’s fire. ‘Tell me true, do I have any hair left at all or am I going to be the first bald bride in the history of Erebor?’

‘There’s still hair on your head,’ Nori said. ‘Although it isn’t for Dori’s lack of effort.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘If either of you is ever of a mind to wed, I’ll have him thrown in the dungeons until the whole thing is over and done with.’ Or she would invent a sudden diplomatic trip to the Iron Hills or the Ered Luin, something that would ensure that he was nowhere near Erebor.

‘I’ll never wed,’ Nori declared. ‘I’m wedded to my craft.’

 _And which craft would that be precisely?_ As far as Kate was aware, Nori was one of the few dwarves alive who had none. He was the black sheep of the family, constantly smudging the family name, as Dori was wont to call it. Not that Kate could disagree with him entirely. Nori did well enough on the road, but she could not see him settling down anywhere. He got too restless when he stayed in one place for too long.

‘What of you then, Ori?’ she asked. ‘Anyone caught your fancy?’

Ori had been reading a book in the corner of the room, but he looked up and coloured bright red at her question. Of course, whether that was just Ori being Ori or that there was someone he liked, that remained to be seen.

‘Don’t worry, your secrets can be yours,’ she said. Teasing him was fun at times, but she was feeling generous today. If Dori happened to be near enough to overhear this conversation and there was someone Ori actually liked, the Spanish Inquisition would utterly pale in the light of the interrogation Dori would subject his youngest brother to. After having suffered at his hands herself, she wouldn’t do that to Ori now.

Having said that, Ori had made a remarkable recovery. And, as it turned out, she had Thora and Elvaethor and their experiments to thank for it. They had somehow combined Thora’s knowledge of the dwarven body and Elvaethor’s knowledge of elvish medicines to temper the fever he had developed and help to fight the pain in his stump. They could not regrow the hand – such a feat was apparently even beyond Gandalf’s powers – but they had done so much more than Kate had expected. Even Dori had thanked them kindly for the service done and he had no love for Elvaethor at all.

At this, Ori only blushed more violently.

Nori, who was not feeling as generous as his sister, was quick to jump to conclusions. ‘Bless my beard, my brother’s in love.’

‘With his books, he is,’ Kate said, sending Nori as stern a stare as she could manage to tell him to _back off_. ‘He’d wed the library if he could, I’d wager.’

Nori was on the verge of coming up with another one of his clever remarks, but Dori entered and he thought better of it. There was a sort of unspoken agreement between them that Dori should never be told something that could put him in the lecturing mood. Kate appreciated all that he did for them – there was no one more devoted – but his care had the tendency to become smothering, leaving one yearning for room to breathe. So, unless absolutely necessary, it was thought better to leave him in the dark. _Some dysfunctional family we are._

‘That should fit you,’ Dori announced, holding the dress up for her inspection. ‘I had to take it in quite a bit. It can’t be wholesome to be so skinny, Kate. You should eat better.’  
‘Don’t get your dander up,’ Nori advised him helpfully. ‘She’ll grow big soon enough with that baby in her belly.’

Dori shook the Finger – it was such a phenomenon that it deserved capitalisation – at him. ‘That is your niece or nephew you are talking about. You should have more respect for your kin.’

‘Have respect for your king, have respect for your kin…’ Nori sighed as if to say it was all very wearying. ‘There’s an awful amount of people that seem to deserve respect these days.’

Despite that agreement of theirs that they should never put Dori in the lecturing mood, he’d caused one all the same. And with Kate being forced into the dress – and to be honest, Dori had delivered quite the quality product – she had nowhere to go as the brothers bickered. Ori fared rather the better of them, she observed. He had disappeared behind the book and shut the world out. _Would that I could do the same thing._

But no, she did not mean that. Because annoying and tiring their constant sniping at one another might be, it was also quite the distraction from thoughts that were trying to work their way into her head and ruin any kind of festive mood, the sort that had her thinking how nice it would have been to have her mother here instead of Dori to get her ready. And how good it would be to know that Jacko could attend her wedding. And how much more cheerful would it all be if her friends were here as well to exchange jokes and make her laugh and blush in equal measure.

 _But they’re not here, so get a grip_. She was never going to see any of them again and the sooner she made peace with that, the better it would be. Regret would only weigh her down; it did not get her anywhere and it would certainly not do to show up in tears at her own wedding. Not that she would be able to pull off the role of blushing bride, but she could do the smiling bride at least. Once this ordeal of being caught between her still arguing siblings whilst being mistaken for a doll to be dressed up was over and done with. _Thank God Thorin only gave him an hour._

The hour must be just about up, because the snapping voices ceased and Kate heard something that sounded like ‘you’re ready.’ Much time to rejoice in the fact was not granted her, because Dori took her by the arm and turned her around so that she could take a good long look at herself in the mirror. That had come with the room and because Smaug had never come here, it had survived his reign of terror and fire.

It had been very long since she had looked at her own reflection and she did not quite know what to expect. In Lake-town she certainly hadn’t looked her best, that was a fact that could not be disputed, but a lot had happened since then.

At first she hardly recognised herself. The old Kate had never been so finely dressed and had never owned jewellery that expensive. Neither would she have worn her hair in the elaborate style as Dori had forced it into, with only a few stubborn curls escaping. Her face seemed to have lost some of its roundness. Her features had become sharper somehow. Maybe the rough journey and the trials that followed it had been to blame for that. It was less a girl’s face, and more that of a woman, a woman who had seen more than most of her age. _I’ve changed so much and I hardly even noticed it happening._

‘You’ve done a great job,’ she admitted to Dori, because that was certainly the case. She looked like some kind of noblewoman from centuries past. _But not exactly like a fairy-tale princess either; they smile more. But then, I never claimed to be one._

And her life was not exactly a fairy-tale. True, she got to marry the king, but it wasn’t as joyful an occasion as the stories would make one believe. She loved Thorin, that was true, and she would not back out now – why would she? – but with all the recent losses, both to death and to a world she could not return to, it was hard to feel the joy without some measure of sadness mixed in. _Is that how my life is going to be from now on, never feeling the happiness without the regrets gnawing away at me?_

‘Thank you,’ she added, meaning it.

She was rewarded for it with a bright smile that told her she had made the right call by telling him that. _We might not appreciate the mannerisms, but there is no questioning his motivations._ _Is there anything he wouldn’t do for us?_ Kate doubted that.

When Doris’s back was turned, though, she quickly grabbed her watch from her bag and put it around her wrist. It was something from home, something she knew, and it was always nice to be able to tell the time. Whatever it was that Gandalf had done to her stuff, he seemed to have ensured that the batteries would not run out. _Guess he was good for something after all._

Nori cast a glance at it, puzzled. ‘How you can tell the time from that, I’ll never know.’

‘It’s past noon,’ she told him and how had it gotten so late already anyway? She must have slept longer than she thought she had.

Or maybe Dori had taken longer than he was supposed to, because he seemed quite in a hurry all of a sudden. They took a couple of abandoned corridors to get to where they needed to be, as to avoid run-ins with other people. It wouldn’t do to have it questioned why they were all so dressed up for a ceremony that could not be very cheerful by any stretch of the imagination. Balin had invented a good cover story, and that was necessary too, but she knew it didn’t sit right with Thorin, who had been forced to participate in altogether more lies and deceit than he had in all the years he’d lived before. He valued honesty almost above all things, so it was hardly surprising he disliked the schemes so much.

Dwalin waited for them outside. ‘Need me to throw him in the dungeons for you, Kate?’ he asked, twinkle in his eyes, when Dori had gone inside to make sure everything was as he had planned it.

‘I’m tempted, but no,’ she said. ‘Although I do reserve the right to change my mind if he becomes too bothersome to bear.’ She wondered about Dwalin, though. They had a truce of some kind, she thought, maybe even a peace, but neither of those things included exchanging jokes as if they had done nothing else all their lives. It was commonly known that Dwalin preferred to keep his distance from her, even though he claimed he did not dislike her anymore. That in itself had been progress enough, and she didn’t have a right to ask for more. _Miracles never cease_.

Their conversation, such as it was, was cut short by the re-emergence of Dori, who informed them that all was as it should be – which Nori correctly translated as everything was as Dori had intended it – and that they should go in right now, leaving only Dori and Kate outside.

The moment Dori had learned there was to be a wedding, he had started interrogating her about wedding customs in her world. Kate, knowing that giving in could only have consequences she didn’t care to face, had kept her mouth firmly shut. Dori had then turned to Ori, with whom she had discussed a couple of things, who was not in the possession of enough willpower to withstand his brother’s queries and had told Dori what he knew.

Which was why they were now here, waiting. Dori had managed to learn that the father of the bride should give her away, and failing a father, this task fell to him. Kate didn’t even know if this was a custom that was traditional at dwarven weddings, but Dori had clearly insisted that it was incorporated and so here they were.

‘Thank you,’ she said again. Appreciated or not, this was something he did because he thought it was better for her. He thought it would be a comfort to have some traditions from home now that she didn’t have her home anymore and that Kate’s protests had only been because she didn’t want people to make a lot of effort on her account. The last at least was certainly true, but now that she was standing here, she found that she didn’t mind Dori’s efforts as much as she had thought she would. And it felt fundamentally wrong to be cross with someone on her wedding day.

Her walk down the aisle was rather a short one, though, mostly because there was a distinct lack of an aisle. With so few people in attendance, there was hardly a need for it. They only numbered thirteen today. _There should have been fifteen_. The thought shot through her head and was gone soon after, but it had been there. Bifur and Kíli should have been here and they were not. And she didn’t think she would be the only one to feel their loss.

_What are those gloomy thoughts, Miss Andrews? It’s your wedding day, not your funeral. Give them a smile._

And that she could do. Later. All those other concerns were for later, as they should be. A wedding was no time to contemplate all her losses. This was supposed to be a day to count her blessings, even if the blessing was to get through those vows without making a fool out of herself and to manage to walk without tripping over the hem of her dress.  
Thorin had donned a smile of some kind as well, but there was a hint of annoyance underneath, which might have had something to do with his own attire. Balin must have been insisting that he’d look the part of king as well as bridegroom, because there was a crown on his head and his hair had more braids in it than Kate was used to from him. And someone must have found him some very royal looking clothes somewhere.

‘You look nice,’ she whispered at him when she joined him.

‘Balin insisted,’ he answered, confirming all her suspicions. He didn’t add any comments about her looks, but that would not have been like him anyway. His eyes however spoke volumes. It was always actions with them, never words. And what did she care? Actions spoke louder anyway. She’d known men who knew their way with words, who had always known the right things to say, but who hadn’t known the right things to do. And she didn’t think that was a risk she’d run with Thorin. In that way, he was so much more reliable.

_This is a commitment I can make._

So yes, she missed her family, still wished they were here with her today, but at least for the moment, she could put that aside. ‘Ready?’ she asked. That it was even happening was still somewhat surreal. Had someone told her a year ago that she would marry Thorin Oakenshield, she would have cheerfully directed them to the nearest madhouse, but here she was and she was marrying him. So much for fictional characters being fictional. Surreal indeed.

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Are you?’ There was a hint of uncertainty to his voice, not as bad as it had been on the road and he had apparently never been certain that she would stay, but still there. It was a legacy of having people abandoning him for so long. So many habits they had to unlearn, so many new ones they had to make their own. _What a messed up pair we make sometimes._

Balin had been invited to officiate and he did well. Kate’s speaking of Khuzdul was quite good, but that was the Khuzdul one used in conversation, not the formal variety that had so many words that Kate had not yet learned. She knew they were needed to make it all binding, just as needed as their signatures under that marriage contract, but for heaven’s sake, would it have killed them to make it more comprehensible? She sort of knew what was being said, but that was only because Ori had been as kind as to translate it before he set to teaching her how to pronounce the words, which would have gone better if she had been a little more advanced in reading. Still, she managed to work her way through her vows without stammering and if her pronunciation was a little off at times, people at least had the good grace to ignore it. Still, Thorin spoke his with an ease that made Kate feel entirely too self-conscious about her own attempts to make them sound good enough.

But in the end it was all done and Balin switched back to a language they could all understand when he announced it. ‘It is done,’ he said, eyes twinkling for reasons unknown. And he was right. The vows had been spoken and their signatures were under that contract – Kate made a mental note to actually read it sometime, just to be sure that she knew what she had actually signed – and now there was no going back.

_Oh, who are you fooling? There hasn’t been a way back for you for months._

In the end it was Bofur who shattered all solemnity by yelling at them: ‘Well, come on then, what are you waiting for? Are you going to have a kiss or not?’ It was the Bofur-variety on the _you may kiss the bride_ theme, but one that made her laugh and that was what people were supposed to do at weddings after all.

Thorin’s lips only touched hers very briefly in a chaste kiss. He was not the kind to appreciate an audience to any open signs of affection and Kate was not one to put on a show either. Some things were meant to be enjoyed in private and certainly not in front of her brothers.

‘Calling that a kiss, little sister?’ Nori inquired.

‘If you are so interested in kisses, find yourself a girl,’ she advised him even as Thorin unleashed his best glower on him, which completely missed his mark. Disapproval bounced off Nori like arrows bounced off a solid rock wall. ‘I’m sure it’s healthier than getting involved in my love life.’

‘I won’t ever marry,’ Nori declared. ‘I am…’

‘Wedded to my craft,’ Ori and Kate chorused the well-known ending with him. ‘We are in fact aware of this.’

Dori muttered something under his breath that suggested he would have a word about said craft with Nori later, but currently he was too busy getting all the food on the table in time. He’d employed Bombur for this responsible task, but something had gone not quite according to plan, which left the wedding guests a little time to themselves before they could sit down and eat. Kate could hear her own stomach growling and realised that she in fact hadn’t eaten a bite all day. _How did I even forget breakfast?_

‘You’re stuck with me now,’ she told Thorin when the well-wishers had finally bestowed all their wishes on them and turned their attention to a trick with a fork that Bofur claimed he had mastered, but that didn’t exactly work out by the looks of it.

‘And you’re stuck with me,’ he countered, but there was a smile on his lips and in his eyes. There was that lighter side to him, the side she’d only seen glimpses of when they were still travelling but that seemed to resurface just a little more often now. And it was that side that she had come to love. The loss of Kíli did not seem to weigh on him so heavily today.

‘That I am,’ she confirmed. ‘But I knew what I was getting myself into, so that won’t be used as an excuse.’ She pondered this for a moment. ‘Although I am not quite sure what is even written in that contract, so maybe I should wait with making statements until I’ve read it.’

He became a little more solemn. ‘Nothing that you will regret,’ he said.

‘I know that.’ He could not have taken her that serious, could he? ‘It was a quip.’

‘I know that,’ he parroted. But he must also have remembered her panic attack of this morning.

 _When we’re taking steps forward, we’re taking small ones_. That was something she had known for months. There was no such thing as great leaps forward in their relationship. Kate rather thought she would be very unnerved by it if such a leap were to suddenly occur.

‘Have you seen the table?’ he asked, completely out of the blue.

Her eyebrows must have been up at her hairline. ‘Are you asking me about my opinion of Dori’s table decorations?’ That was a subject so mundane and of so little consequence that she didn’t think Thorin would deem it worth his time. He’d never been the King of Small Talk as far as she was aware.

He shook his head. ‘Look closer,’ he urged.

Kate obliged and then she saw. ‘The Round Table? _Really?_ ’ She had discussed some of the Arthurian legend with Ori within Dori’s hearing weeks ago, but she hadn’t expected that to have a result of any kind. It could just be a coincidence, though, just the first table available and easier to use when there was an uneven number of people attending… ‘Fifteen places.’ It was only when she thought about their number that she realised there were two plates too many. ‘Fifteen,’ she repeated, confused. ‘Are there guests coming I don’t know about?’

Thorin shook his head. ‘No guests,’ he said.

Kate frowned. Fifteen plates, but only thirteen people in the room and no guests coming to fill those seats. It was like some kind of riddle, but she never had any patience for those. Still, it looked like Thorin wanted her to piece it together by herself or he would have offered more of a hint. Seeing as though he hadn’t…

And just like that, the answer hit her. ‘It’s for all of the company, isn’t it?’ she guessed. ‘Even those not with us in the flesh.’ That idea was far too brilliant to come from Dori and Kate could only think of one other who’d had a say in this wedding. ‘Good old Balin.’

‘Aye, the idea was his,’ Thorin confirmed.

‘It’s fitting, I think,’ she said. She had not known Bifur all that well, but she’d known Kíli and he would have loved a party. And Balin was the kind of person who would make such thoughtful gestures. And now they would indeed be remembering their dead while they celebrated. Not a thing most people wanted when they got married, but then, most people did not get married mere weeks after a battle. Allowances had to be made. It was only right.

So she did not mind when there were toasts made not only to the happy couple – the most memorable one being when Bombur’s chair fell over backwards and the wine ended up in his hair rather than his mouth – but also to the memories of Bifur and Kíli.

The meal was good, the company in good humour and Kate found that she was starting to enjoy herself. She found herself laughing, telling jokes and exchanging funny stories with those around the table. Bilbo was far more talkative than she had ever seen him, more at ease in the company of dwarves than he had been when this quest begun. And Fíli eventually was coaxed into relaying a story from his childhood, one that featured Kíli and he managed to laugh at it. _We’re healing. We’re all still healing, but we’re getting better._

There was a short interlude when some Iron Hills figure came at the door with a matter that he insisted needed Thorin’s urgent attention. Balin however told him he should take it up with Dáin if it was that urgent and to come back and bother the king in the morning and no sooner, after which the door was shut in his face.

‘Trouble is never far away,’ Dwalin observed.

Kate raised her glass. ‘Well then, here’s to all troubles still to come.’ After all, she had gotten a taste of what life would be like in Erebor and it seemed like trouble would forever be dogging her footsteps. _God give me strength._

Dwalin laughed. ‘Aye, I’ll drink to that.’

Thorin was the only one who didn’t raise his glass with the rest of them. He had that thoughtful look in his eyes that he got sometimes. ‘I’ll drink to life,’ he said when the rest of them had put down their glasses again and he could make himself heard without shouting, because trying to say something while there was a toast ongoing was utterly impossible; cheerful dwarves were noisy dwarves.

Kate was silenced by this for a few seconds. Thorin wasn’t usually one for optimism, always counting his losses and worrying about ordeals still to come. But he was right. They had been focusing on the negative too much and losing sight of what they had. They were alive, the dragon was dead and so were most of their enemies. And here they were, feasting under the Mountain they had fought to reclaim. It was time to truly start counting their blessings.

‘That I can do,’ she declared, raising her glass. ‘To life!’

This time, when they toasted, no glass remained standing on the table.

* * *

 

From Kate’s notes: _And here is to the rest of our lives._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left now and that will be up Sunday. So yes, really almost done now.  
> In case you like the family dynamics of the Ri brothers, I wrote a one-shot about them, called As Good a Reason As Any.  
> I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you so much for reading. If you have the time, a review would be much appreciated.


	96. Epilogue: The Journal

_And so we are coming to the end of the story, because you know most of what happened after. Well, I say most, because there are a few loose ends that need tying up before I can truly end this account of my adventures._

_I imagine that by now you’ll be wondering about what really happened to Smaug’s rotting corpse. I know for a fact that there are many, many stories about what has been done with it, and one of the most prominent is that it was positively drowned in oil and then set alight, as a sort of poetic justice for all the people that had perished in his fire the day Erebor and Dale fell._

_I wouldn’t give much credit to that story, my dears. Admittedly the part of pouring huge amounts of oil and other flammable substances over the dragon is true and it was quite the bonfire, I can tell you. But the fire only burned on those substances and when they ran out, the flames died. Smaug himself remained untouched, but I can tell you that the inferno had certainly not improved the smell of him. Of course it was been folly to think fire could ever consume a dragon, who are after all fire-breathers. All things considered it was just a huge waste of resources._

_No, the real story is far more gruesome. In the end wiser heads prevailed. There really was only one sensible course of action. The cadaver was hacked to pieces – which, as you can imagine, was very dirty work indeed – and then moved to a relatively nearby cave – and far enough away not to smell him anymore – to be dumped there. The cave then was sealed, so that no one ever could get in there, so Smaug’s chopped up remains could rot in peace and no one ever needed to see his terrifying form ever again, which is as good an end to the tale as any. And no, I am not going to tell you where that cave is, before you ask. Some things are best forgotten._

_As for Beorn, who saved your father’s life on the battlefield, by the time we got round to looking for him, he had vanished. Apparently he had gone off to hunt fleeing orcs in the aftermath of the battle on his own and he had not come back since. It’s a shame, since we never got to thank him in person for the great service he did us – and the world in general – by ending Bolg’s existence. We sent our thanks with Bilbo when he went back, but it is not the same._

_Thranduil packed himself off to Mirkwood and thankfully took his army with him. He spent a good three years sulking there – that is what I’d like to think anyway – before he came for a visit/trade talks. Relations with the elves have always been tense since then; there is simply too much history there and grudges that have been held for millennia don’t disappear overnight._

_Elvaethor on the other hand is a regular fixture at court. His relationship with his king is not as tense as ours, but it is far from a secret that his help to us during the quest was not appreciated by his superiors, so when matters get too heated, he’ll invite himself for a holiday in Erebor, so him you know well. I daresay he’s got something of a soft spot for the lot of you, having no children of his own. He collected on the debt I owed him a year after I made him that promise, and so I told him most of what I told you in this journal. So yes, he knows where I come from and as far as I know, he has never shamed my confidence. He is a true friend indeed._

_Speaking of friends brings me to Bilbo Baggins, who left a week after the wedding and who we have only seen once since then. Time being as it is, I don’t think I will ever see him again in my life. But we have always corresponded and he lives a good life, even though his own people regard him as more than a little strange these days. But I think he is happy with his lot, and that is no less than he deserves._

_The men of Lake-town had departed along with Thranduil and sat out the winter in Esgaroth. But when spring came, a group of them, with Bard as their leader, came to the gate to ask us to make good on the promises made and so, a few months later, the rebuilding of Dale began. It took years, just as restoring Erebor took years, but after two years, people started living there again, and there were markets and trade to be had, even as construction was still underway._

_Lord Erland is another matter. And maybe it is a slight touch of irony that the book got its way one last time. It was less than a year before the temptation of the treasure became too big to resist for him and he disappeared into the wilderness along with a sizeable chunk of it. After that, he was never heard from again. For all I know, he found a cave somewhere he shared with Nói where they complained of how much harm Durin’s Folk had done them until they died._

_Other than that, there is not much left to tell. You already know that Uncle Dori never married – leaving him all the more time to waste considerable effort on trying to teach you the manners your father and I failed to instil in you – and neither did Uncle Nori. Uncle Ori on the other hand had indeed found someone he liked, and you know Thora all very well. Or, better said, you know her eldest son Flói very well, because I cannot even begin to count how much mischief you got in with him, Jack._

_It took me a while to realise who it was that had caught his fancy, though, because they were both so secretive about it in the beginning, but eventually Thora slipped up and that is how I found out. And at first glance they hardly seem the most likely of couples, but they work well together. Ori apparently liked her because she had been treating him like she would any other, not like he was an invalid with only one hand. Thora’s motivations took me a little longer to sound out, so eventually I just asked. I still remember her answer well. ‘Well, as a healer you get all sorts of folk,’ she said. ‘And I get to see them at their worst, so they will grumble and moan and complain, as folks are wont to do when they aren’t feeling well. So when you get a patient who is badly injured, but who can smile at you and kindly thank you for your work, well, then you know you’ve got the good sort, don’t you?’ And that is really all there is to say on the matter._

_And now that I am speaking of family, you also know that Fíli did not mourn forever, although it did take him a long time to move on. I think that you will remember him being quiet and sad at times during your early childhood, until Thoren and Thráin’s history tutor Síf made him smile again. And I am glad of that. None of us were made to spend our lives longing for what could have been. Admittedly it has taken me a long time to learn this lesson for myself, and I am only saying this with hard-gained wisdom that took years in coming to me._

_Oh, but I could write volumes and volumes about life in Erebor after the Battle of the Five Armies. I won’t do that, though. You know most of what happened and this account was meant to record the part of the story you never knew about. And it is good that now, after all these years of secrecy, this is finally out in the open._

_So, now that all has been said and done, I think it might be time to make up the balance. After all, it has been six decades ago since all of this took place and, by the reckoning of my people, I’m an old woman now, who’s all grey and wrinkled, needs her spectacles to see – and no matter what you say, they are not ridiculous, they look dignified – and tires more easily than she did before. It is unlikely that I will have many years left on this earth, no matter how much the lot of you will object that I will surely live to be a hundred and fifty. That is hardly a realistic prospect._

_And I have been happy. I’ve had a good life, all things considered. Yes, I’ll not deny that there have been bad days as well, bad weeks and bad months even. One doesn’t simply choose a life and forget all about the one they leave behind. There have been days when I longed for another world, in some ways a simpler world, yet in other matters so much more complicated._

_But not all happiness has been overshadowed with regrets and, if I could go back and choose again, even knowing what I know now, I am quite convinced I would not change a thing. I would miss you too much and let us not forget that I would miss your father too much. My life has had its ups and downs, but altogether the ups outnumber the downs. And that has to count for something, I’d like to think._

_And now this story is truly at its end. In a few months, when I’ve gone over all the material again and edited it, I will give it to you to read. I imagine you’ll have a lot of questions, might even be angry with me for keeping it from you. If you are, and you would be well within your rights if that should be the case, I can understand. And I can only apologise for taking so long. I hope you will believe me when I say we thought it was for the best._

_But whatever you think, you are my darling children and I love you more than all the gold under the Mountain and the stars in the sky. My life has been all the brighter for having you._

_Catherine Sarah Andrews, Queen under the Mountain_

_Erebor, Durin’s Day 3002 TA_

 

The room was almost dark by the time he had read the final words and Thoren’s back was aching from having been seated in the same position for so long. He must have been here for hours and hours to finish his reading. Well, it was not as if he was much needed at court at the moment. Winter still had its grip on the land and until the roads thawed, there was not much call for his interference as king. Erebor went about its business even without him keeping a watchful eye on it.

In the past couple of weeks he had stolen away when he could under the guise of having to clean out their room if he was ever to live here himself. The truth, that he hadn’t touched anything other than the leather-bound journal and the book his parents had written so much about – he’d fallen for its temptation about halfway through the journal, reasoning that if his father couldn’t stay away from it, well, then he couldn’t be blamed for picking it up either – was something no one else needed to know.

And now he was done, left with so many questions, just as his mother had predicted. _Why did you never tell us? Didn’t you trust us to keep the secret?_ So yes, there was a certain measure of anger mixed in there as well. But they were both gone now and he could never ask them again.

But at least they had meant for them to know at last, but it had been too late. It was signed Erebor, Durin’s Day 3002. She had completed it only weeks before she died. And Thoren thought he could at least forgive his father for not feeling the strength to look at it again. Duria had carefully observed that a part of him had died when she did, so maybe they should not be so surprised that he followed her into the grave so soon after. Of course it was just like Duria to be so insufferably reasonable when all Thoren wanted was his parents back. How was he ever going to do this on his own?

 _You are my darling children and I love you more than all the gold under the Mountain and the stars in the sky. My life has been all the brighter for having you._ His eyes fell back on those lines and even though they did not make things right, they were strangely consoling. His mother had died so suddenly that there had been no time for farewells. The last thing he’d said to her had been sleep well and she had returned the wish. She was making her farewells in this book, he realised. _Could she have known there was so little time left?_

There was no way of knowing.

And then the story itself had left him utterly bewildered. Another world where Erebor was fiction, where this world was nothing more but the décor for a story. And she came from there, had lived there until she was twenty-three. It just did not make an ounce of sense. Not that he doubted her; she’d always had turns of phrases that sounded like they belonged to another people. No one else spoke like that. And then there were her belongings, that looked so different from anything Thoren had ever seen before. He didn’t doubt it, but it was a hard thing to wrap his head around.

A knock on the door snapped him right out of his musings. Before he however could grant access to whatever visitor he had, the door opened and Duria let herself in, only to stop dead in her tracks when she took in the sight before her.

‘Thoren.’ Surprise coloured her voice.

That was something he could somewhat understand, because in all his years Thoren, son of Thorin, had never been known to pick up a book if he could help it. He didn’t like reading and, as he always said, Duria did enough of that for all of them. She’d had her nose stuck in books, oftentimes bigger than she was, from the moment she had been taught her letters. Whereas the rest of them would count it a treat to have a look around the forges, nip off to the markets for a bag of sweets, go outside to play or be taken on an outing to Dale, Duria would be best pleased if she were given a few hours in the library. Rare were the times when her face was not obscured by some book or other. In fact, he only knew two things that caused her to emerge from behind them: lecturing her siblings and making eyes at Narvi.

‘Duria,’ he returned the courtesy. ‘What are you doing here?’

His sister shut the door behind her. ‘Looking for you, of course.’

Thoren managed a frown that hopefully had the same qualities as the impressive one his father always managed to conjure up. He feared he was failing miserably. ‘Why?’ There was nothing “of course” about her barging in like she had a right to. These were his rooms now. Well, they would be once he finally plucked up the courage to actually come and live here.

‘You’ve missed supper,’ Duria said. ‘And lunch before. Jack says he hasn’t seen you around the forges, you’re not in your study or beating the stuffing out of a straw foe and there’s no court today.’ She presented her reasoning in the same way she would make an academic point. ‘And it’s not healthy to lock yourself up here.’ Her arguments led to a conclusion she put to him in a manner that implied she thought there was nothing he could bring up to debate her statement. ‘We’re dwarves; we’re not made to be sitting idly by.’

Never mind that her work was mostly done sitting, her being a scholar of some renown, but at least no one would ever accuse Duria of being idle. Her mind was sharp and never in a state of rest.

‘I have not been idle,’ he snapped back, rising to his feet, the journal still held firmly in his hands.

‘You’ve been reading?’ Even a deaf dwarf would have been able to hear her incredulity. ‘What is that? Some library book?’

‘No.’ It was more than that. It was history. It was legacy. It was _their_ legacy. ‘It’s their story.’

Because of where they were, Duria did clearly not feel the need to inquire who the they were he made mention of. ‘They wrote about their adventures.’ It was not a question.  
And so much more. There was so much they had never known. During some parts he had even wondered if he had known them at all, only to realise that yes, he had known them. But this, the story he still held in his hands, that was the story of how they came to be. They had been different then.

Thoren for one found it hard to imagine their parents fighting like they had described doing when they only just knew each other. The good-natured bickering he had been used to only came later. He found it difficult to believe that his father had once been a dwarf who only rarely laughed when the memory of his laughter was one of the earliest memories he had.

On the other hand he found familiar elements as well. His mother’s quick tongue and her cunning had been old news to him. Her way of dealing with envoys that tried her patience had not much changed since then, even if she maybe could boast more control over her own reaction than she had before. His father’s icy disapproval was well-known as well, although it had but seldom been directed at him or his siblings. Elves though were another matter entirely. And not in all his days had he ever come to like Elvaethor, who was as much as a bonus uncle to Thoren and his siblings.

‘About so much more,’ he said. ‘Not just their adventures.’ At least, not the way they had been told as bedtime stories. There was many a detail they had omitted from their tales. ‘About them.’ About how they came together. There were still many who disapproved, but slowly their story was becoming legend. They had done what no one had done since Dari and Inga and they had defeated a dragon and reclaimed a kingdom besides. Singers and poets could hardly wish for better material to work with.

‘It must have been an impressive read if it has you hiding from the rest of the kingdom like that.’ Duria still failed to be impressed. She thought as he had done before he started reading, that she knew all there was to know about the history of King Thorin and Queen Kate, having grown up as their daughter.

‘I don’t think we knew them as well as we thought we did,’ he said, strangely regretful about it.

Something in his tone must have alerted her to that not all was quite as it seemed. Defeated, she sank down on the nearest obliging chair. ‘How do you mean that?’

‘There is much they never told us,’ he said, and when Duria showed the first beginnings of interest – as a scholar she could hardly resist her own curiosity – he jumped at the opportunity: ‘Let me tell you about them…’

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have really come to the end of this journey. We’ve come full circle and now we’ve reached the end. And I want to thank each and every one of you for reading your way through it, because let’s be honest, this has become quite the long tale. Especially thanks to those who reviewed. Without that support this story would never have gotten so far. Thank you so very, very much.  
> I do have a few ideas for Duly Noted in progress, although it may be a while before I get round to it, because there are a couple of other neglected projects in need of attention, but keep an eye out for it.   
> I’d love to hear what you thought about this epilogue/the story in general/what you liked/what you didn’t like/what you’d like to see in Duly Noted etc. Please review?


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